poison ivy ☹ michael clifford

ii

Posted: 10 Mar 2015 8:05 pm

☹ ☹ ☹

some kind of ball hits my back and falls to the floor beside me. i reach down and pick it up, opening the crumbled paper. it reads:

are you poisonous?

the writing on the paper is sloppy and quick. i turn around and look for the boy with the colourful hair. i spot him at the back. he's looking at me -- creepy. i huff and turn back around, crumpling the paper back up in my hand and dropping it into my backpack.

not even ten minutes later, another ball of paper hits me. it bounces off of my shoulder and lands on my desk. i unscrunch it and read the messy handwriting, containing the words:

meanie, you didnt reply.

i roll my eyes at his stupidity. i didnt reply for a reason. it was a stupid question. besides, i already stated that he had to find out for himself, so i dont understand why hes asking. what does he even mean by that? 'are you poisonous?' well of course im not. what do i look like? some kind of snake? hes an idiot.

i scribble on the back of the note and quickly chuck it back to him while mrs bevan isnt looking. i wrote:

fυ¢к you, clifford. you're not getting an answer, you dont control me.

i dont get a reply back for the rest of the lesson. the bell rings and i shove all of my belongings into my backpack, before that clifford boy comes up to me. he smirks at me as he drops a folded piece of paper into my open backpack. i give him an odd look, but all he does is turn around and join his friends in walking out of the class laughing.

what the fυ¢к. this kid must think he can manipulate or control me. who does he think he is? i shrug it off and walk out of the class, turning left and walking down the corridor, only to realise that i have absoluetly no idea where im headed to. i pull out my timetable and look at what class i have. english, room 19. um, where is room 19?

i turn around and look down the opposite way of the corridor. i sigh deeply. i have no idea where i am.

"hey there, are you alright?" someone asks. i look up to see one of the friends of that smart αѕѕ from math class. he has curly light brown hair with black framed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. i shake my head, looking down at my schedule. "are you lost?" i nod at him and he smiles, revealing dimples in his cheeks and oh my gosh, i think i just died.

"i uh- i dont know where room 19 is. can you please show me?" i ask, showing him my schedule. he nods at me, grabbing my arm ligthtly and leading me down the corridor. i follow him past each room. room 09, room 11, room 13, room 15, room,17, ah, room 19. i see, its like numbers of houses in a street, but in class form. does that make sense? oh well.

"heres room 19." he says, opening the classroom door and walking in. i follow him, wondering why he's walking in here too.

"um-"

"this is my class, too." he interrupts me, smiling as he sits down in the back row by himself. "come sit with me?" i hesititantly nod and occupy the desk beside him.

"im uh- im ivy." i say, sticking my hand out to shake his. he smiles at me.

"im ashton," he shakes my hand with a bright smile, "its nice to meet you." i smile at him, a slight blush rising to my cheeks.

the second bell goes off and the class starts flooding with unfamiliar faces. im not surprised though, its my first day and i only know one person -- ashton.

☹ ☹ ☹

its almost the end of the day and so far i've had four classes with ashton. math, english, geography and history. last period is history and ashton is sitting beside me in the back of the class. seated on the opposite side of ashton is one of his other friends which i have come to know as calum. he's overall nice, but he has a horrible ego problem.

"and that, everyone, is how the british took over. . ." my mind travels out of the zone and into my own thoughts. i was never really listening to mr cox anyway. who even likes history class? not me, thats for sure. someone taps on my arm.

"ivy. . ." ashton whispers, his face right next to my ear. i take a deep breath.

"what?" i whisper back. he ruffles around in his backpack and takes out a small piece of ripped paper. he puts in on the desk and scribbles something onto it. he then leans back up to my ear.

"here," he says before placing the piece of paper into my hand. he leans back against his seat, away from me ear, and continues pretending to pay attention to mr cox and his super interesting speech on some british take-over.

i open the palm of my hand and look at the writing on the paper. it reads:

heres my number for safe keeping 0489-738-749 ash x

i smile and place the piece of paper to my chest, as if trying to treasure it for a life time. i quickly put it into my bag before mr cox could notice the paper and snatch it off of me. ashton said he does that.

i am so not risking it.