Big Mac

Chapter 6- Standing up to Jeremy

OK this chapter is kind of boring but it actually has some really important stuff in it for the future :) So it's actually not just a "filler" but yeah it is kind of boring and I'm sorry and it's short :/ And I might change the Asian kid's name, I'm too lazy to do it right now, it's just I don't really like his name it doesn't fit him I feel. Idk maybe I'll change it maybe I won't. Vote/comment/ read :)

Thanks to Dovaslayer for all the nice comments :) And to everyone else too, I may not reply to all but I do read them all! :) Thanks again

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 Amanda felt a hand on her shoulder while she was at her locker. She turned around.

Jeremy.

“Where's my homework?” He demanded, Tracy Wendell hanging on his arm, her undivided attention on him. It was kind of sick to be honest.

Be brave. Amanda told herself. “In the trash.” She answered bluntly, she almost smirked to herself. She didn't expect to say that aloud! Her happiness was short lived however.

He pushed her in the locker. “You did what?”

“You...heard me.” Amanda managed to say. No, she wasn't going to look like an idiot, not again. Jeremy wasn't going to treat her this way. “What makes you think I would do it anyway? After you being such a prick and all.” Wow...she could scarcely believe she called Jeremy Rivers a prick.

“I'm the prick?” Jeremy asked, shoving her more in the locker. “Wow Big Mac you got nerve for saying that you know.” He paused, realizing how bad his situation actually was and kicked a nearby locker. “Damn it! That was a twenty point homework assignment. Coach is going to kill me!”

Tracy bit her lower lip, a stupid attempt to look worried. “Oh no Jeremy you have to play. Your the best on the team!”

“That homework assignment probably dropped me a whole letter grade.” Jeremy said calming down a bit. He looked at Amanda. “I hope your sorry.” He said coldly. “And if your not now, trust me you will be.”

He walked off, with Tracy following him at his heels. Tracy turned around and looked at Amanda. “I can't believe you would do that.” She shrilled in her annoying voice, flouncing her perfect hair back.

She couldn't believe that she actually liked him. Were all guys this way? Or just to the ugly pathetic girls?

Amanda grabbed her textbook and binder and headed to speech class.

“So tell me,” Mrs. Christansen said as the class settled down. “What are your fears?”

“I'm scared of the dark.” A girl said in the front. Mrs. Christansen wrote that down on the board.

“I'm afraid of tests.” A boy said, the class laughed.

Mrs. Christansen smiled. “Unfortunately that's something you will never get away from here at school.”

“I don't like spiders.”

“I'm scared of strangers.”

“I'm scared of losing.”

“I'm afraid of being alone.”

“I'm afraid of being poor.”

“I'm scared of death.”

Mrs. Christansen put them all on the board. “Now tell me how are we going to make a speech about fear? Lets pick one from the board.” She scanned the board. “How about being poor? In your speech I want you to say how being poor scares you. Give me reasons why it frightens you the most. Like..maybe your parents were poor and you don't want to end up like them. Then tell me how are you going to avoid that fear. Maybe you will try to do good in school so you can get into a good college, so you can get a decent job.”

“Like being a teacher?”

Mrs. Christansen laughed. “If your lifelong dream is teaching little brats their ABC's then sure.” She smiled. “I'm just kidding actually, I love teaching you guys and getting you ready for your future. Anyways, this is actually an easy assignment and trust me five minutes is more than enough time to write your speech. Be detailed. I will allow you to have notes, but I expect you have to eye contact with your classmates. But also tell me is there anyone that helped you be fearful of that certain thing? Is there someone maybe actually helping you with that fear? These are all questions I want you to answer in your speech.”

The bell rang. “One last thing!” She called as the kids hurried out the door. “Detention is held in my room Friday.”

Amanda sat down at the lunch table and started to eat her food. “Oh wait, Zenas. I have your book.” She took it out of her backpack. “I really liked it.” She said. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Zenas reached his arm out to take the book, and as he did, Amanda noticed faint red lines criss crossing his wrists. Amanda gasped. Zenas quickly drew his arm away, shame written all over his face. “My cat scratched me.” He said. “It's nothing.” Hastily he opened up another one of his books and read the rest of lunch.

Amanda had a sick feeling that it wasn't his cat. Wasn't he allergic to cats anyways?

She pushed her tray away. She wasn't hungry anymore.