Graffiti Girl // Michael Clifford

|| 5 ||

Can you tell from the look in her eyes?

«Shadow Moses» Bring Me the Horizon

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"Why can't we ditch?" R groans for the tenth time since this break began.

"Because school is important," I sigh. I feel like I have this same conversation with her more often than I should. She's just never been a huge fan of school, or at least high school. And probably college... but we have almost two years before we have to deal with that.

"Ugh!" she groans and knocks her forehead against her closed locker door. I twist the lock of my own right beside hers before it pops open and I trade out my maths book for the stuff I need in my Advanced English class next. English is one of my favorite subjects because I love reading and writing, for the most part at least, and love the in class discussions about the literature and debating meanings of different themes and characters. R likes English as well, but is in the regular class. Not because she isn't smart enough for the advanced course, just that the whole not liking school thing gets in her way and she doesn't care for making it more aggravating.

"You have Chemistry next, don't you? Why do you wanna skip? I thought you loved that class?"

"I just love it because Dr. Mafia loves me!" she laughs as she gets more and more excited the longer she stays on the subject. "Plus he's so great! And his name is Blaze! Blaze Mafia! How great is that?! And he has a kid named Blaze Mafia! There are two Blaze Mafias in this world, Andi!"

"You are an odd person." I narrow my eyes at her playfully and shut my locker to turn to her. "Do you need anything from your locker?"

"No, I'm just gonna carry everything today. I'm too lazy to worry about switching it all out."

I blink at her and look between her face and her locker literally less than six inches apart. Still, I just roll my eyes and start walking towards my English class. I hear R turn and jog to catch up beside me.

"That was rude," she pouts.

I roll my eyes once again and turn to her. I grab her cheeks between my fingers and mutter in my baby voice, "I'm sorry wittle Arabella."

She slaps my hands away and glares at me while I laugh. She sticks her tongue out and I stick mine back at her. By now we are in front of my class so I say goodbye to R and she continues down the halls to Bio. I step inside my English class and sit down at my seat in the front corner desk up against the right wall of the classroom.

I pull out my copy of the book we started last week from my backpack. It's The Outsiders by S.E. Hilton. It's by far one of my favorite books, and we aren't even halfway through with it. Whenever we read books in class, which is constantly, I usually read the first chapter or two and then decide if it interests me enough to keep reading. If not, I just look up summaries on the internet. I mean, I love English and reading, but only about stuff that interests me.

I set the paperback on my desk and reach to pull out a highlighter and pen to make notes in the book about what we discuss in class. Those notes, especially when I don't actually read the book, are what save me for the in class writings when we have to pull examples from the text.

Just as I open to my marked page to refresh where I left off, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I look around to find none other than smile-ass Ashton.

"What the fuck, what are you doing here?" I question somewhat harshly.

"I'm in this class," he states excitedly. His stupid smirk never leaving his face. Seriously is this guy ever not happy?

"What? No you're not." I look him up and down like a disease that came fresh off a boat from Africa and sauntered its way into my English class.