Why Boys Are Idiots

Chapter Twelve - Addie's POV (Revised and edited)

EYYYYLO :D (Sorry imma kinda hyper :P)

So this chappie was written by SomeoneAwesome, but Chocolate_Luv is updating cuz she's kinda busy.

Anyways, this story is going to be entered in the Watty Awards now! So please VOTE and COMMENT if you likey =)

Enjoy now =)

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Why Boys Are Idiots

Chapter 12 (Addie’s POV)

          I entered math class in a hurry even though I was still six minutes early. Only about three other kids were there, probably because of the same reason as me. Luckily, Mrs. Scott was nowhere to be seen.

          “Sup,” I said to the first guy I saw, whose name I still didn’t really know. He didn’t even look up from his work.

          I plopped down into an empty seat near the back of the classroom and unzipped my backpack, taking out my math book and a pencil. Yep, that’s right. I, Addie, had forgotten to do my homework…again.

          Maybe it was because of the countless hours we had spent trying to finish up our stupid hydraulic toy project so that our science teacher wouldn’t fail us. Or maybe it was because of life in general. I mean, seriously. This was basically how my typical day went – wake up, argue with Alex, rush to school, get there late, spend eight useless hours learning, go home, do homework, argue with Alex some more, go to sleep.

          I was lucky, though. The homework that had been assigned on Friday (wow, did I honestly have an entire weekend to do this and still forget?) was so easy that I literally finished it in two minutes.

          I’ve never really found math as a hard subject. It wasn’t like there was really anything to ‘apply’ our knowledge to. One plus one always equaled two. Eight hundred and six times a thousand, two hundred and seventy one always equaled one million, twenty four thousand, four hundred and twenty six.

          As soon as I was done answering the annoying algebra equations that were on my workbook, I tossed my pencil down on the desk and leaned back into my seat with a sigh.

          The door flew open, and Zaira stormed into the classroom, her bright, red hair making her look like her head had caught on fire. That was how angry she seemed as she marched over almost as if she couldn’t see me here, but plopped down in the seat beside me anyways.

          “Hey Zaira,” I greeted, turning to watch her with a curious look. “What happened?”

          Her expression softened immediately as she jerked her head upwards to face me. “Huh?” she said, acting completely innocent. “No, nothing.”

          I smirked. “Sure,” I replied sarcastically. “You know you can never fool me. You’re as bad a liar as Cyra.”

          Zaira scoffed. “Um, not really… I’m definitely not as horrible as Cyra.” She slouched down lower in her seat, arms crossed, but still continuing looking pissed.

          “Yes you are,” I argued playfully. “Is it about Paul?”

          A weird sound erupted from her throat, which soundly like a cross between a bark of laughter and a snort. “Um, no,” she said flatly. For some completely strange reason, I could tell from her expression that she was telling the truth.