I Know I'm Bad (A Teacher-Student Love Story) **UNDER RENOVATION

I Know I'm Bad | I Miss Detention

      “Louise!”

      A stabbing pain went through my arms.

      “Ow!" I cried, rubbing my arm where Sam had just punched. "What was that for?”

      "I called your name.” Sam cocked her head to the side, an amused expression washing through out here features. “Twice. What were you thinking about?”

      Him. ”Um…”

      The day passed in an unsignificant blur. All I ever thought of was him. Half of me wanted to see him again and never want to be away from him anymore but half of me don’t because it’d just make me want him more. The whole English period was pretty normal—well, normal if you count out my unceasing ogling at him.

      We discussed things about R and J which I couldn’t quite make up because I was focused on him the whole time which was frustrating because he wasn’t even sparing me any glance.

    Sam and I walked home together like we usually do from band practice and she was jubilant about the upcoming Black and White Masquerade Ball, an event by the seniors and for the seniors only, held during the first Saturday of the first week after school starts. It sort of serves as a homecoming party for us seniors. Unfortunately for me, Sam was part of the committee. And she has to go. And though how crazy it sounds—I have no idea how it happened—she had convinced me to go.

      Dances were never for me. Maybe because my feet were two left. But despite that, I’ve never really imagined myself wearing a ridiculous dress and waltzing with some mysterious guy behind a mask. 

      I realized I still haven't given Sam an acceptable response and after a few minutes of staring at me in awe, Sam finally shook her head and gave up.

      “Never mind.” She said as we resumed on walking.

     "As I was saying, I found the most suitable dresses for us and I will bring yours Saturday morning so you—“ She paused after sparing me a glance. “Louise! You’re not listening! What’s going on inside this thing huh?”

      She held my head with both of her hands and started shaking it violently.

      “Ow! Ow! Sam! You’re hurting me! Ow!” I cried.

      She stopped, shrugging. “Oh well, seems like it still doesn’t have anything.”

      I huffed in disbelief, “What? I hate you!”

      “Hm. I love you too!” She responded in an annoying manner.

      This little traitor. Hehehe…

      Then I suddenly remembered something—which Sam had a huge responsibility for.

      “Hey Sam.” I called.

      “Yep?” She replied instantly, popping the “p”.

      “How did Mr. Clyde know something that he shouldn’t, huh? Perhaps you know anything about this?” I said, trying to sound one of those antagonist-who-wants-to-get-something-from-the-protagonist things.

      Seems like she immediately knew what I was talking about. This would be good.

      “Ah." She cooed, having that sly grin on her face. "What kind of things?”

     “Things that rhyme with me being Dingle or Mingle? Hm? Something along those letters but I just couldn't remember.” I said, narrowing my eyes on her in splits.