Outside it was wet and damp and muggy, sky dark gray and rain slamming down like it had a vendetta against the earth.
Inside, it isn’t really better.
Muggy humidity and heat from the bodies of shifting tired dark eyed kids who wished they were anywhere but where they were. An even darker eyed body standing at the board, droning away half hearted words about an assignment not even worth the grade.
You chew, sticky and hot being sifted in your mouth like it’s the malleable, elastic body of one of your classmates. You push your tongue through the film that thins out from your efforts, and blow.
A pink balloon blooms from your mouth, half lived when the stranger-but-not leans over from his desk to pop it with a pencil. It snaps open with a resounding ‘pop!’, sagging grandly and sticking to your damp chin. You don’t blink.
The rain pounds down harder.
“No gum in class.” He mutters faintly, and when you look at him there is a spark of green green green even amidst the dull apathy that is so common in the eyes around you, that is present even in his eyes.
You blink.
He doesn’t seem to expect you to slowly pull the gum off your face, getting up for a moment to throw it in the trashcan because you are not cruel enough to jam it in the crevices of the poor desks. They have enough problems as it is, being made of metal and being sat in and such.
He stares intently, green green green. “Hand sanitizer.” He orders.
You slowly reach over for the bottle situated by the glum box of tissues. The top tissue is sagging over, as if the dampness has even its very fiber core.
You walk back over, slowly, shoes squeaking with water and muck. He eyes the path of dead grass that you trail with a disapproving look, eyes slowly dragging across the makeshift tracks until they finally land upon you, green green green and you are standing in front of his desk.
You pop open the hand sanitizer bottle, slowly. You pour some into your hands. Green green green and he’s staring back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he meets your blank expression. Your tongue stretches up to stick to the roof of your mouth.
‘Pop!’ goes your mouth as pink muscle jerks away from the top of your mouth, and your skinny knuckles shake as you squeeze, bottle aimed right above his head.
Yellow tinted teeth reveal themselves as the corners of your mouth curl upwards, stretching your face as your cheeks push up and your eyes squeeze.
He scowls.
You grin.
 Siyaahi · Thu Oct 10, 2013 @ 12:27am · 0 Comments |
