Sta.sh
1. Big Mouth
Sighing heavily I slumped back in my chair, wallowing further in my state of boredom. My hazel eyes quickly observed the bland white circular clock hanging above the large whiteboard at the front of the empty classroom. I had to suppress a small moan of disbelief as I noticed the time was a quarter past three. It meant I have been in the same freaking room for a little over twenty minutes or so.
Where the hell was Mr Wyoming anyway? That was want I wanted to know.
The last time I saw him was before he left the room to make a phone call or something like that. He gave me a half-assed lecture about how I shouldn't show utter disrespect to various teachers, especially on my first day of joining Primrose Stone High. It wasn't my fault, really, due to the fact so far I couldn't stand the teachers. Why? It was because they took one glance at me, being the only single American boy in this school, and they talked down to me, assuming I'm not smart or educated enough for their snobbish standards.
Well, screw the lot of them. If they want to boss me around then of course I won't take it. Do they expect I should let them walk all over me like they do with the rest of the students? Yeah, when hell freezes over.
A part of me was actually tempted to just get up from my desk, sling my bag on my shoulder and walk out of the school's grounds without a care in the world. It wasn't like Mr Wyoming was coming back any time soon. I mean, he would have returned here a long time ago if that was the case. As I began putting my personal school journal along with my pencil case in my bag, there came a loud rap on the door.
Upon hearing the noise, I quickly dropped my journal into the bag without so much as a glance. I focused my attention on the door, leaning to the side so I could catch a better view of the person. Unfortunately I couldn't see properly because of the damn door's fuzzy glass pane obscuring everything with the exception of the figure's outline. I knew it wouldn't be another teacher as normally they would stroll straight inside without even knocking. It was most likely a student – that would make sense.
Just then the door was gingerly opened and it was soon followed by a head poking in, appearing to be looking for something. No, make that someone from the looks of it. The door was now pushed fully opened, revealing a very cute looking girl standing there. She had really short copper red hair yet there was no way you could mistake it for a boyish cut. It had more of a feminine style if truth be told. There was undoubtedly something very elegant about her as she was wearing a purple blouse, dark blue denim jeans and expensive looking black boots.
I couldn't help but to stare at her. It seemed as if I was in a trance and nothing could break it. She honestly looked like some kind of an angel. It didn't take me long to figure out she must be a little older than me, two years at the most. A frown laced her features as she tightly clutched her red designer bag further to her chest like a protective shield. I was about to open my mouth to ask her what she was doing here until she gazed in my direction, her slightly surprised eyes locked with mine.
Hello, gorgeous. How you doing?
The redhead regained her composure, offering me a small friendly smile. I gave her an acknowledging nod in return, forcing myself to not check out her fine body. I wouldn't like her to think of me a pervert if she caught me in the act.
"Oh hi, I didn't realise you were there," she said, her voice sporting a sophisticated well-mannered British accent. She thoughtfully chewed on her lip briefly before continuing. "Um...do you know where Mr Wyoming went? You see, he told me to drop by his room after school so I could hand in my History essay."
I shrugged. "Sorry, I don't know where he is at the moment or when he's coming back. You're welcome to wait here until he comes back. That is, if you want to."
"I guess I'll do that then," she agreed. "Hopefully he won't be long in returning from wherever he is."
She closed the door behind her, shutting out all the noises that were coming from the corridor. It was a short walking distance until she settled herself down at the desk across from mine, resting her bag on her lap. We sat there in silence for a while and here I was trying to think of a way of breaking the atmosphere by saying something. Should I ask her for her name or what? I cursed inwardly as I combed my fingers through my raven hair, getting even more awkward as the seconds passed by.
Thankfully she must have picked up on my uncertainty as she turned around in her seat, facing me. Wow, she has dazzling blue eyes up close. "You know something, I don't think I've seen you around here. You're new, right?"
"Guilty as charged," I replied, chuckling. "It's my first day here as a matter of fact."
"Oh, I see."
"Yeah. I got transferred from my old high school in America. My mom and I just moved over here after she bought a house not too far from here. It wasn't so bad when we first arrived here a few weeks before Christmas. I was kinda disappointed to discover there was hardly no snow, just some slush here and there."
She laughed then, the sound so carefree and full of girlish vibrancy. It was at that moment I started to feel comfortable around her, letting all the nervousness drain away without a trace.
"Well, England doesn't get a lot of snow during Winter. Sometimes it's non-existent, sometimes it snows during the most strangest times like February," she explained, gently playing with the shoe keyring that was attached to the strap of her bag. "Anyway whereabouts in America are you originally from?"
"West Virginia," I answered. It was funny how all of a sudden I felt a little homesick at the mention of my home town. I firmly pushed those thoughts back to the back of my head. I had no intention of dwelling in the past. "Oh, what's your name?"
She flashed me a wide grin which made my heart stop for a second. "I'm Rosa. Rosa Dalton. And you?"
"Mario Maxwell," I answered "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise!"
I made no move whatsoever to reach out and shake her hand. For some odd reason I felt scared in initiating the smallest of physical contact with Rosa. If I were to merely touch her I'd be too afraid she would vanish into thin air, thus promptly awaking me from such a pleasant sleep. I blinked twice to make sure I was in the realms of reality. Yep, she was still there so of course I'm not dreaming. I cleared my throat softly.
"So, what Grade are you in?" I inquired as a way of getting to know Rosa better.
For a moment she seemed confused. "Grade?"
"Yeah, what school grade are you in? Something tells me you're a couple of years older than me."
"I think you mean Year," she corrected me. "Years is the English equivalent to Grades."
"Ah, I'm more used to the American terms."
"I'm in Year 11, which means I'm entitled to leave school come June as I'm already sixteen," Rosa remarked casually. I raised my eyebrows, realising that I was indeed correct about her being two years older than me. She didn't notice my reaction as she talked a little more. "Most of my friends are stopping on to study an extra two years before eventually going into university, but not me. I'm hoping to start a job once I left, preferably something along the lines of working in the media."
Smart and beautiful at the same time. Rosa truly seemed as if she has her head screwed on her head properly and I admired that about her. The more I was starting to learn about her the more my interest increased. It would be awesome to have her as a friend needless to say. If I can spend more time with her then it would make me feel happy.
"Media, huh?"
"Sure thing," she chirped cheerfully. "How comes you're cooped up in here all by yourself, Mario? Did Mr Wyoming want to see you about your work?"
"No, not exactly, Rosa," I admitted. I glanced down at the floor, suddenly hating the fact I remembered the reason why I was here in the first place. "I'm currently in detention for giving most of the teachers grief all day. Well, mostly I gave them some cheek."
"Oh..."
Instantly I could tell she was kinda disappointed judging from the way her words trailed off unexpectedly. Once again we lapsed into silence, the clock's ticking filling the area. I slowly raised my head to glance at Rosa, only to find that she had her attention elsewhere. She was preoccupied with getting what I assumed to be her History essay out of her bag. I quietly watched as she flicked through a few papers, studying what she had wrote, before she finally placed her work flat-out on the individual table. What confused me was she shook her head, fixing me with a somewhat sad expression.
"Listen, you're going to get a bad reputation around here if you don't straighten up your act," she murmured seriously. A small pang of guilt went through me as soon as the words left her mouth. "I'm only telling you for your own good, Mario. You can't be rude to teachers or pick fights with others otherwise everyone will get the wrong impression of you. You're the new kid here, meaning you have to try your best in fitting in. Understand?"
"How can I fit in when near enough every teacher I meet treats me as if I'm some kind of idiot?" I protested in mild irritation, huffing childishly when I crossed my arms against my chest in an offended manner. "Honest to God! I had last lesson with Mr Wyoming and when he was droning on and on about the Great War I raised my hand and told him I had to go to the toilet as I needed to have a piss badly. He had the freaking nerve to refuse me, so you know what I done? I just headed straight to the door while saying I have to go to the bathroom otherwise he'd have to clean up a puddle on the floor."
"Has anyone told you that you have such a big mouth?" she said curiously, tilting her head to the side.
Rosa and I both jumped in our seats when the door was wedged open, announcing the presence of Mr Wyoming. As usual he sent me a disapproving glance as if to wordlessly express the fact he was none too pleased to be in the same room as I. However his distasteful expression turned into stunned delight when he set his sights on Rosa.
"Rosa! How good to see you, dear! I forgotten I asked you to come see me as soon as school finished."
"It's alright, Sir."
The chair pulled back when Rosa stood up and made her way over to him, holding her bag in her right hand while the other held her assignment. He beamed a little when she handed her essay over to him.
"I'll go through your essay over the weekend and you'll get your results on Monday," Mr Wyoming reassured her, nodding. "You're free to go now."
Rosa said goodbye to him and thereafter giving me a wave before she left, fading from sight. As soon as she was gone, Mr Wyoming loomed over me. Things were not looking up for me, I know that for sure. He perched himself on my desk, looking absolutely far from impressed as he stared coolly at me.
Without saying a word I didn't look bothered, not wanting to let this pompous asshole get the better of me despite the fact he was a figure of authority. To me he was nothing but a middled aged idiot with white hair, steel blue eyes, and also a handle-bar moustache that was pathetic. Didn't anyone point out to him they were out of date?
"Now as for you, Mr Maxwell. I have called your mother and she is extremely furious with your rude attitude..." Mr Wyoming started to reprimand me, filling me in with the tedious details.
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In the end I just laughed about it because it was kinda like almost approaching the finish line of the race and when you're a few yards away you trip over your own shoe laces. And yes, there were times when I accidentally done a spot of friendly fire in which I shot at my team mates. In the game Bill said "Francis (my character), what the hell are you doing?!" when I shot him. I responded with "I'm trying to fucking save our arses, that's what I'm doing!"
Poems.
"Follow The Truth, Follow The Lies, 
