03-31-2010, 06:25 AM
((:lol: I like it!! Sorry for the delay. Mass class attack. :XD
Hmm. I think we should name the teachers. :) Pick which ones you want to name, and I'll name the rest. :yes:))
The Math instructor narrowed his gaze, sighing. "Sit," he demanded, pointing toward Rhianwen's empty desk. "I will speak with you after class."
Jayce slowly picked up his pencil again, glancing at the blushing teen out of the corner of his eye as she moved toward her seat. "Cute," he muttered, smiling. One of the guys near him chuckled, bumping his shoe with a foot. I really meant it that time, but hey. Let them think what they want. I don't flirt with every woman in the class. A guy can strike up conversation without it being something more than that, right?
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Bella "listened" intently to the rest of the class period. Her notepad was open in front of her, and her pencil scribbled madly as the English teacher spoke. Really, everyone knew, she wasn't taking notes. She was either sketching, or writing out insults in her own code language. As usual. Reaching up to tug on the guitar pick that hung from her right ear, Isabella ignored the pencil that bounced off of her knee when class ended. Instead, she ripped her paper out of the notebook, crumpling it up tightly before launching it at the guy's head.
"You pencil doesn't jump off of desks of its own accord, dude." Glaring at the male, "Tweak" let her brown eyes bore into him, and she tapped her dark nails against the surface in front of her until she got up suddenly, snagging her bag and sneering. She was out in the hallway before anyone could say anything, her notebook in hand. Ramming some tall guy out of her way, Bella grumbled to herself about stupid classes and school. I do NOT want to be here. EVER.
She dropped her checkered backpack loudly beside her desk in her next class, not caring who she disturbed. Plopping down with a huffed breath, Tweak let her head rest against the table. Her head hurt . . . again. And she was dead tired. There had been very little sleep the previous evening . . . not after . . . that. There were so many bad events in her life that she didn't seem to be effected by them anymore. Right. Let them all think that.
Isabella Jane used to be just as her name sounded - a Jane. Boring, dull, shy, quiet, and predictable. She suddenly changed just in the past year or two, growing brash and rude, outspoken and sometimes brash. And now she could care less about how it effected everyone else.
Waiting for Art class to start, Bella let her brown eyes close, her hair keeping her face from the rest of the class.
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