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"THIS SHIT IS BORING."
LYNN dryly exhaled while grumbling a few choice words under her breath, rubbing her eyes softly in an attempt at waking herself up. It was a problem mixed with the fact she hardly gets sleep anymore due to her indifferent nightmares along with never usually being up this early. Why is school a thing, genuinely? She thought that she had learnt more living by herself and friends than an entire school year.
The blonde glanced over her shoulder at Kie, who was currently occupying the seat and small, metal table behind her. She rolled her eyes dramatically, pointing a single finger at her temple, imitating a gun firing. Kie had to cover her mouth with her right palm before she let out any laughter, zipping her lips together like glue.
She then shifted her attention towards her other best friend — the amazing Pope Heyward, who was scribing in his worn notebook practically every word that fell from Mr. Sunn's lips. It wasn't particularly neat, and Lynn tilted her head off to the side wondering if he would even be able to understand it when overlooked later.
And then lastly, JJ. The boy was authoring down in his own worn, and almost completely ruined notebook — the pages looked like a damp wet, not to mention the usual colorful cover page to protect it was missing. It appeared like the boy was drawing one of those S's, the one with the pointed edges that every basic teenager repeatedly scrabbled when entirely bored.
Lynn sighed, her face falling into her palms as the words of Mr. Sunn were going in one ear and then almost immediately exiting out the other. School is so draining, she didn't understand why they didn't have more breaks off, and she couldn't even imagine how she would deal with this basically every single day for the next seven months.
Almost like someone knew that Lynn was in desperate need of a distraction, her very aged phone had rang with a notice of a text message. Instinctively, the blonde ducked for the phone resting on her school desk before Mr. Sunn even had a split second to swing on his heels.
"Whose phone was that?" Mr. Sunn questioned, and Lynn tried to look as inconspicuous as possible by sheepishly scratching the back of her head, glancing around the room for anybody else as if it wasn't her phone that went off. "Nobody? You will be tested. Now, to recap, who was Diocletian?"
Lynn had no idea who Diocletian was.
Peeling back for her phone she had evenly hid away on her lap, she confusingly furrowed her eyebrows — not recognizing the number whatsoever. She then tried to make eye contact with her fellow friends, who were apparently in the groupchat with her. Not a single one of them seemed to know who it was.
