Aram's Bataillon

This cannot be happening

Felicity's POV:

I was reading back through the stupid book we had to read for our English assignment comming up, I'd already read the book like twenty times. It was getting annoyed that I had to reread it again to find more places to put notes on sticky notes for this stupid presentation, eventhough I quite liked the book I wasn’t keen on reading it over and over again.

Also, I don't do good with being infront of a class and having to present things- or just in general having theattention of the class- just another perk of having anxiety.

I noticed my best friend staring at my book. She was most likely stunned that I'd skimmed through to the middle from where I was at the start of the lesson.

I glanced up and whispered, "what?".

"How the the fuck are you so far ahead? You were like a quarter of a way threw the book when you came in and you didn't do any reading over the weekend!" Makayla hissed back as I grinned at her.

She just rolled her eyes at my response, “Well, I actually quite like this book. That doesn’t stop me from hating rereading the book over and over again.”

She went back to trying to type up her draft, her eyes sometimes narrowing in confusion or she would would just sigh while exasperatedly waving her hands around a little- or even ask me if sentances sounded good sometimes.

"You idiot!"I mumbled beside Makayla, who I was still eyeing.

She rolled her eyes and swatted my arm playfully. To wich I grabbed and mouthed 'Ow!'.

After that litle confrontation after she slammed her book closer a little too loud we went back to focusing on our work.

Makayla was a bit mad that I was beating her at reading. And to be honest I was a bit surprised she wasn't ahead by how many books she had and read.

That girl offically had a problem. A book problem. Her mum even tried to ban her from buying more books from the book store in the shopping centre over northside of town but she prevailed to no extent. I swear, besides the shelves and cuby box used for storage- that was filled so much with books you had to reef one out- and the ones she claimed were around almost a hundred in her cuboards all added up to a miniture libary on their own. In toatal Makayla had to have the whole book store in her room. She could even make a bit of money by selling some of them.

There was a Reason why I did not read over the weekend like our teacher told us to.

The reason why?

Well, the reason why I didn't read over the weekend was because for the first time in my life my mum let me have a couple friends over for a sleepover weekend the day after my sixteenth birthday. I was estatic and it had been a blast, though I didn't know how no-one dared come and tell us to go to sleep as we stayed up most of the night and we were quite loud- well if screams from people being jump scaredn were anything to go by.

My mum never let me go anywhere without her, allways over over protective and making up the dumbest but qickest wxscuss she could on the spot. Even Makayla's mum wouldn't let her walk home from the bus stop that she lived two minutes away from; she’d had only just started to walk and her mother freaked out, worring about her.

She was seventeen for fucks sake!

We've been friends since Prep but after Prep we got separated for a couple years. Only to find eachother again, once we found out that we were besties in Prep our friendship blossomed and became more of a bond and stronger than ever.

We practicaly just acepted the term: 'platonic soulmates' that I come up with. She was my Ying and I was her Yang.

Also she really helps with my anxiety and other problems. The girl is a totall dumbo and wacko at times but I love it. She's fucking hilarious and awsome eventhough her personality is out there and I myself am someone you'd call an introvert. I don't do people.

She had these amazing pale blue eyes that were wtaring at ther laptop screen in complete concentration; they made her extremely blonde curly hair that sticks out more. She had special spray that actually somewhat straightend her unruly curls so she could brush her hair but even then there was no taming it- even hairspray didn't work.

I was taller than her by atleast a few centermeters which she hated because once she was taller, but she does have some muscles in those arms and legs from being a field hockey goalkeeper. She's been playing hockey most of her life while I couldn’t even bring myself to touch oa stick after the incedent with my cousin but only in the last few years has she been playing goalie and by what she says I'd say she's pretty good.

Those calf's of hers you could punch and she would mock ow at you; I can't imagine having to squat in all that gear multiple times and sometimes hold that position in an hour long game. She said the gear weighed around a Kilo with it on and when it was in thr bag she had to lag around it apparently wieghed more-siriously how is she not ripped yet.

Funny thing, she hates running. Like absolutly detests it but I bet with that gear off she'd beat alot of people. She would make her fair and tan skin worse, she's learnt to put sunscreen on after she came back reder than a tomato and burnt to the shit house from last year's leadership camp. Her normal white skin has some pretty bad tan along her arms and back of her hands. I was about to flick to the next page when Jetski clossed her book with a thud and started typing, she'd probably deck me if she knew I was using the nickname her friends had decided to giver from her last name. Before I could ask her why she slammed her book shut a huge boom made everyone jump and look up at Sir at his desk.