Math Class #4
#4 of Math Class
It's pretty short and I'm sorry about that. I just wanted to get this chapter out before I'm loaded down with Christmas homework!
Still a little bit of fluff, but the drama is finally kicking in!
It's Monday. Enough said.
I met Jack at the bus stop again today.
"Hey, how are you?" I asked him.
"I'm alright!" He said, sincerely. "But I wish it would snow already." He looked up at the sky and made an (adorable) whimper. I nodded. I didn't care much about the snow, I just wanted something to make it less depressing outside.
I noticed a paper bag in his hand. "What's that?"
"Oh yeah! I made you a breakfast sandwich! Forgot to give it to you earlier, sorry." He grinned, pushing the bag towards me.
I was surprised by his act of kindness, but I felt bad for not getting him something. "Thanks a ton! I'll eat it when the bus gets here." I could already smell the freshly cooked bacon and eggs. He's not just cute, he can cook too!
A few seconds later, the yellow school bus pulled up. We clambered towards the back of the bus and sat down. Jack pulled out his phone and earbuds, putting one in my ear and the other in his. He turned on some soft rock music while I set to work on my sandwich. I thought I was good at cooking, but this sandwich was amazing. The cheese and bacon tasted really expensive, it was seasoned perfectly, and it tasted ten times better than a breakfast sandwich should. Maybe it's only because Jack made it?
"Mphhh. Jack, this sandwich is amazing, are you sure you didn't buy it?" I asked him.
"Yeah I made it! It took about six tries to get it right..." He looked at the ground.
"Six?! Jack, how early did you wake up?"
"Uh, around four...?"
"So you're telling me you woke up at four a clock, and tried six times, to make a sandwich for me?"
"Well, yeah, I'm a morning person. And I made one for myself too..." He looked disappointed. "Why? Is it not good?"
"It's amazing! But you really didn't need to go out of your way to make this for me."
Jack didn't say anything, he just looked away. He's either really crazy or really passionate about sandwich making...
The bus pulled up to the school and we headed to math class. My favorite... *Groan*
Jack and I took our usual seats next to each other. Jack was focusing hard today, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he worked on a problem. His biceps flexed a little bit through his t-shirt as the moved the pencil. His brow was furrowed in concentration. He looked really cute. I just sat there and watched him work; until he looked up at me.
"Hey Adrien, your notebook is right there." He pointed in front of me.
I could barely hide my embarrassment. "I uh... yeah sorry." I covered my face with my paws and started focusing on my work. But I couldn't help taking glimpses at Jack.
Jack and I have different lunch periods, so I sat at a table where nobody seemed to do much talking. I got to work on my food when I couldn't help but pick up on a conversation.
"Oh, Jen, guess what?"
"Huh?"
"You know that new kid?"
"Yeah he's in my chem class."
"Well I heard from Carla that he's a total fag for Jack Walton."
"Oh shit, really?"
"Yeah."
It took a few moments to process this information. I began to feel sick to my stomach. I got up from the table, dumped my food in the trashcan, and ran to the bathroom. I locked myself in a stall and began to cry, hard. I can't believe Jack would tell people something like that. The fact that would purposely tell people something like that made me clench my fist as my eyes rained tears. I heard heavy footsteps, and then the door opening. I muffled my crying in my elbow, but whoever was out there would obviously hear it.
"Hey, what the hell's going on in there?" He asked, in a deep voice.
I didn't answer.
He kept interrogating me "Who are you?"
When I still didn't answer, he said "Alright, I'm opening the door."
I panicked and tried to wipe my tears as quickly as possible. But when he opened the door, he could easily tell I was crying.
"P-please leave me alone." I begged, not even looking at him.
"Oh shit, you're the kid that's super gay for Jack." He grimaced. "No wonder you're crying. Such a pussy."
I didn't say anything, but I stood up. The second I did, the big tiger in front of me pushed me back down.
"You're disgusting." He spat at me. "He's the captain of the soccer team you know. We can't have him assaulted my fags like you."
"I-I'm not _assaulting _him, and I'm not a fag!" I shouted as I began to gain some confidence.
"Oh, really? Then let's see how you take a punch." Before I could brace myself, the tiger had already thrown a punch at my gut. I was knocked to the floor, but stood up as quickly as I could. I opened my mouth to say something, but he threw another quick punch at my jaw. I fell backwards, knocking my head on the edge of the toilet, and sliding down to the tile floor.
"Thought so." Said the tiger, before walking away.
I was numb with pain. Which I suppose is better than actually feeling it. I curled up on the floor. my vision was nearly black, but not too dark to see bright drops of blood staining the tile floor.
I'm pretty sure I had a concussion, as I didn't remember what happened, or how I got home. All I can remember is lying in bed, and burning with fury at the fact that Jack would say such a thing.
Why would he do this to me?