Casey Addlemon stared blankly ahead, his eyes taking in nothing but the blurry image of the teacher making small gestures at the front of the classroom as his mind went out of focus. He heard the voice of his AP World History professor Mr. Arnold, who was grey-haired and short, but spoke with a fabricated English accent that he must've developed to make himself sound more creditable and proper.
It was Wednesday of the first week of school, and he already felt worn out.
The teacher droned on about the course requirements and how important it was that the students try extremely hard in this class and so on. The air conditioner on the wall was making noises and the sound of Expo marker as the teacher tapped the tip on the whiteboard was growing incessant.
Casey gripped the edges of his desk, and made an effort to slowly turn his head towards the clock without the teacher noticing. His attempt failed and Mr. Arnold crossed his arms and stared at him, as did the rest of the class embarrassingly, and Casey's face turned red. The teacher began tapping his foot on the ground as though to purposely bother him even more.
"Are you late for something more important, Mr. Addlemon-is it?"
"No, sir," Casey answered meekly, trying not to notice the piercing stares of his suddenly perked up classmates. They seemed to have been just as bored out of their minds as he was.
"So your name isn't Casey Addlemon then."
"No, I mean, yes, it is my name. But no, I'm not late for anything more important than your class. This, after all, is my favorite subject." Casey smiled graciously, through gritted teeth. He couldn't stand when teachers deliberately try to make their student's lives harder than they need to be.
The bell rang, thankfully.
Casey tossed his textbooks into his backpack and walked to the door, followed by several other students rushing to get out of that wretched class as fast as possible. He couldn't blame them. After reaching his locker and depositing his stuff, he slammed his locker door and turned to see his friend, Brittanie Mendez stalk briskly passed him, her curly black hair bouncing as she took each fast step.
"Britt! Hey! It's me," Casey called after her, wondering if she just flat out ignored his presence or was just in a usual pissy mood. He hadn't seen her the past two days. She turned, and caught his stare with her large and judging green eyes.
Britt changed directions and made her way over to Casey, who was finishing loading a new set of books into his bag. She brushed back her long hair and made an attempt to smile, though her face was gaunt and her mouth set. He wondered what was wrong with her, considering the fact that she was easily angered or annoyed about anything.
Britt Mendez was the snarkiest girl that Casey was acquainted with. She had a similar but worse attitude to her good friend and Casey's girlfriend, Sam, in which she was sarcastically critical, mocking, and malicious. Britt had the ability to make anyone around her feel like complete shit, even her so-called friends. She would often flash a cruel smile upon the victims of her mean gossip and petty actions. One time in freshman year, she had poured a plate of hot cheese nachos on the head of a horrified enemy whom had just gotten up the courage to consult Britt about being called "fatass" every day in the hallways. Brittanie was like that, and at times Casey couldn't stand her bitchiness.
Britt was also a big partier and flirt, as though she were Felix's soulmate, and often found herself in trouble with adults and other teens. She had nearly been expelled from the Palm Beach Day School in eighth grade for hooking up in the classroom with a poor seventh grader, in which she justified her reasons because "he was just yummy enough to eat," and being caught lighting up in the girl's locker room after volleyball practice. Casey had been introduced by Samantha to Britt at the same football game where he had met Felix, a Friday night that he had remembered as life-changing.
