Broken Bullets

~Shit.~

Some of the girls were winking, others were twirling their hair, I even caught a few trying to bite their lip seductively...and failing. Miserably. They all looked awful, half of them looked like they would lose twenty pounds just by washing their face. Call me picky, but each one looked...fake. I don't know if its just this class or the entire school, but ninety-five percent of these girls had caked-on makeup and dyed hair. I had a strange feeling that this school is full of sluts, just by looking at this single class alone.

I scanned the room disgusted, and tilted my head slightly, a certain person catching my eye. A girl to be exact. This one wasn't undressing me with her eyes, though. She wasn't even looking at me now that I focused on her a bit. I could only see the top of her head, but I knew it was a girl because I could tell by her smooth and long hair. I suddenly felt a little insulted. Why was she literally the only person not interested in me at all? There could've been a monkey juggling axes up here and she wouldn't even have noticed. Or maybe she just didn't care.

She picked up her head slightly and brushed her hair out of her face, and I could finally see her face, the side of it at least. She was busily staring at her spiral, her eyes scanning the words quickly behind her black glasses. She was chewing and biting her bottom lip, but not seductively like the other trash in the room, I could tell she was thinking. Her dark brown hair fell over her shoulders and onto her back neatly. I couldn't tell from her position, but I bet it reached her lower back.

She seems...intriguing.

A lazy sigh escaped my lips and I walked towards the back of the room. She seemed nice and quiet, and it sure beat sitting next to the blonde who just stuck her boobs out when I walked by. I'll just sit at the desk next to her. There's no harm in just finding a seat. It is just a seat.

I flopped down in the desk lazily, my leather jacket rustling slightly. I began getting out one of my notebooks and can't help but peek at the mystery girl's notebook; It was filled with notes. Upon further observation, it was the exact same notebook I had.

Eh. It's not like it matters. Mine wouldn't be filled with notes the ways hers was. It probably would have no notes at all.

I rested my head in one of my hands, the other one dragging my pen across the sheet of paper, starting to make a sketch of a small dragon. It was half finished and different shades of reds, oranges, and gold poured from the multicolored pen that I was using. Drawing helped me calm and forget about my real problems.

I furrowed my eyebrows together as I heard a series of hushed hisses. Raising an eyebrow, I glanced up to see the mystery girl and the blonde who had stuck out her chest whispering violently at each other.

I couldn't help but listen eagerly to here the mystery girl's voice. I couldn't help it, something about her caught my attention fro the moment I had laid eyes on her.

Huh. That's a weird thing to say about someone I don't know or care about.

Fucking stalker.

Dick.

Yes, yes I am. I am you after all.

The blonde frowned and crossed her arms as she whispered angrily to the mystery girl. "Cmon Zyla! It's gonna be a great party! You never go out!"

Zyla. What a cool name.

I couldn't see Zyla's face because it was turned to talk to the blonde. I was now looking at the back of her head, which means I couldn't hear her either. I hate admitting to myself that I was disappointed I couldn't hear her.

My thoughts were interrupted as I heard the blonde sigh dramatically and loudly in annoyance. "Zyla, you are going to that party. I will drag you there if my name isn't Taylor Elizabeth!"