That One November Night

Chapter 1: The title's too long

"Connor?" the mention of my name was faint but I knew that it was a warning and meant that I had to move some point soon if I didn't want to get caught. "Yo Connor," a tap on my shoulder. "Hey dude!" the voice came again followed by a dog's howl with a sense of urgency.

With my head on the desk and the fact that I ignored him twice already, you would think that my mate clearly didn't get the message. I was attempting to make up for the lack of sleep I had lost the night before; that and the lesson was dragging so I wanted to get out of it.

Closer towards my ear this time, the voice was sharp and almost sounded like a plea rather than just a warning, "Connor the walking Skelton is charging over here, if I were you-"

"Hello miss!" I chirped, lifting my head straight from the desk in a velocious action. Opening my eyes to see the teacher standing there before me. Her ghastly grin was horrid to see any day but especially now as I was trying to pry my eyes open to act like I was totally listening to whatever the hell she had to say or had been saying before she noticed me face first on the table. Rather than letting me sleep on my desk she just had to come over here and rudely awaken me.

"Oh Connor," I heard Greg sigh in a mutter as we exchanged a face before I looked up to the shadow. The demon summoned creature was currently stood in front of me - probably had been for almost a minute now - peering down at the desolate page on my desk. At first I had to peek at it before looking back up as I had forgotten how much (how little) I had wrote. In all honestly I had written the date but I hadn't even bothered with the title. Normally the title was only a few words but on today of all days it was like a whole sentence of random text, genially like an entire sentence for the title. For no reason. Given this, I hadn't bothered even starting to write it. The date on my page wasn't even underlined...

"Well, it looks like you have done a lot of work Connor." Her sarcasm was on point, gifted with a perky false smile: this of which was the full present, wrapping paper and all.

"I like underlining the date and title at the end of the lesson" I smirked, avoiding the concept of where my work actually was. Truthfully I had done nothing for half an hour; the first half was just her talking and pointing at things on the board at the front of the classroom. Don't get me started on how boring that gets.

"Well Mr Mylne, you haven't even written the title." Her tone was still slightly high in pitch but snarled enough to seem exasperated. She lowered her head and sprawled her bony claws against the sheet, "As for your written work?" I assumed this was an open question, so I thought (well let's face it, I didn't think about it) before sighing and shrugging my shoulders. Hell, there was no point lying to the poor woman, "You know I don't do any work miss. Don't take it personally I don't do work in anyone's lesson".

She let out a slight laugh and pulled herself upright, through her practically see-through top I could see her rib cage and it made it hard not to focus on her face, the woman looked like she her funeral was long overdue.

"That means that you are going to have to stay behind after school for-"

Just my luck! As she was one word away from giving me a detention I was saved by the bell! I soared from my chair, swinging my bag over my left shoulder so quickly it almost hit skelly (the teacher skeleton) round the face. "Well miss, sorry but that's the bell- it means I get to leave," I smiled down at Greg who - as usual was there past the bell scribbling his last sentence. Well, paragraph. Novel. Tucking in my chair I eyeballed the woman as she smirked, "It's a good thing I like you Connor. That's twice this month that this has happened. Do it a third time and I will speak to the principle," she then gawked towards the swarm of 15/16 years old now scramming like termites to get out of the door. Under her breath I swear I heard her mutter, "Not that he'd do jack-shit" {referring to the crap head teacher: who didn't give a flying rat's ass about anything that happened in the school}. I snickered as Greg finally abandoned his chair. She feasted her eyes on me. "Have a good weakened miss," I called cordially before she could prevent me from leaving the room.

***

I had decided that the time for Greg and I too play video games together was long overdue so I insisted that he should come to mine. We were best mates and after mentioning that there would be free food available while we were on the Xbox became too much for him and like an innocent little puppy he gave in. This was the only reason why I bothered waiting for him at the end of lesson; I just wanted to get out of that bomb site and stop talking to a woman who - all her charm aside, looked like a dead person you've just dug out of a grave after they've slept there for a year.

Once out of the back gate, Greg and I began plantigrading down the long path to the back gate. Due to the 'I want to finish my sentence' stunt there was an ocean of people. I wasn't bothered about pushing through though as long as they didn't look at me or start talking to me. I turn behind me just to check that Greg was keeping up with the zig-zag trend I'd set behind me.

Greg and I had been mates since the day God, (well I personally believe it was Satan) put us into that shit hole together and thankfully shoved us into most of the same classes. He was always into walking and finding new path ways, he had a dog from when he was very little and it meant that if there was a bridal path, nature trial or short cut in Dalkstield then this kid would surely find it: the kid was obsessed.

"Oh Connor? I know a way to your house which is quicker than the route in which you currently take. If you are interested I-"

"Dude," I scoffed bluntly wanting to find a way to irritate him, "we have been mates since year 7 and in our last year you have only just found me a short cut?" I shuck my head and shot him a disappointed glance.

"Well I don't live this way Connor! I go out of the front entrance and you go out of the back entrance," he insisted as he strode out of the gates with a sulk. I stood slightly behind him to see if he thought that I was actually angry at him or if he would understand. Peering back at me he started, "Like here, we are just out of the gate and there are two turns. Even with my Bella," {his dog} "I don't come up here all too often so don't-"

"Hey! I was joking with you mate! You know, like sarcasm." I protested wanting his insistent moaning to stop. His burrowed brows raised slightly as a relieved smile came to his lips, "Well I do hope that one day Connor you will teach me the art of sarcasm," he chuckled – I felt sorry for the impoverished lad. Coming up to five years with me and he still hadn't caught onto the manner of sarcasm or jokes.

I came up to his side, "Now then. Show me how I can get home like Mo Farah" I chuckled.

"Uh, sorry Connor but you will not get faster, the track just gets shorter therefore it is quite possibility impossible." Greg told me in a low tone almost believing that I genially had meant it.

Rolling my eyes, "A boy can dream can't he?"