Strings Attached

~Chapter 6~

The moment they notice my presence, they go ballistic. Seth is filling my ear with swear words from one side and Chuck's punching my arm not-so-lightly from the other, while the rest stand there scowling at me. "You ruined the whole fun, Dan!" Harte says. "Couldn't you wake up early for once?" Seth asks me, glaring with all his might, as if burning holes right through my skull with his eyes.

"Nope. I couldn't," I answer him sassily. "Don't try to mess with me, alright! I'm in a very bad mood today," he informs me. And I can't help making a mock-frightened face. "Yeah, man. You better have a really good reason to support your dastardly actions," Tyler, unusually silent by this time, pipes up. He's the most decent guy in the whole group. And surprisingly, all the teachers like him!

"I'm sorry guys. I know I'm being a dog right now, but my bike gave off halfway. It was really low on fuel." There's a collective 'Oh', 'Sh*t' and a sigh from the gang and they throw me resentful looks. What the hell? It's not my fault! But I let it go nonetheless.

"So, are we going to the class or what?" I ask my friends, raising one of my brows. They are not the type who show up at the first class of the day. But, since today is the last day, that has changed. I'm still skeptical though. "Like hell we will!" Chuck lets out sarcastically. He's the most reckless of us all. Of course, after me. Girls are quite crazy about his ocean-blue eyes and tall, sturdy frame.

But, I see an excited gleam in my best friend's eyes. What is he up to? "No, we'll go in today," he tells us. "After half the period is over," he clarifies when all of us break into un-approving whines. "Do you guys realize whose class this is?" he asks us all. We shake our heads in answer. "Sh*t, guys! It's the 'Turtleneck' in there!!" There's a chorus of woohoo's from them all.

We've hit the jackpot! Turtleneck is our old English teacher. His real name is Mr. John Whitmore. His neck is almost two inches long, hence, the name. He's a bald patch on his head too... perfect to play golf on. The man's quite batty for his age, and we love getting his knickers in a twist. His wife is nothing short of Hitler though. She came banging to the school once, and took him away with him like a submissive poodle. Poor guy.

Once the plan of action has been decided, we disperse into different directions, agreeing to meet near the parking area. When me and Seth are alone, he digs out an array of ping-pong balls of different colors from his bag. There must be at least thirty in there. "Woah! Where did you get so many of these?" I ask him, astonished. "One of my uncles has a sports utility store. Nicked these beauties from there."

"So Turtleneck's skull is gonna be a table-tennis area today? Good thinking, man!" I applaud him, thumping his back real hard. "Ow! Go easy on me, you oaf!" he spits out. "I don't spend my time checking out ladies in the gym!" I make a clicking noise from my throat. "Well, your bad. Don't come complaining to me though that you missed out on so much fun, when we get to sixty," I retort. And the idiot only grunts at that.

We stay silent for a while, and then probably after pondering a lot, Seth speaks up, "So, um... you cool with your dad, bro?" I chuckle sardonically at his question. "We'll be cool when hell freezes over." "Why is he such a bas*ard, man?!" he vocalizes energetically, suddenly getting up and flapping his arms in the air for emphasis. "I don't know. Ask him," I reply, ending the discussion right there.