Mind Waves (Boyxboy)

I. Mind Over Matter

Mind Waves

Chapter 1: Mind Over Matter

By TheBirdWhoCannotFly

???'s POV

My head flopped down onto my desk for about the fifth time in the past hour. Mr. Florence was droning on and on about a project that was due in the time of two weeks. I already knew this. The whole class knew this. Why did he insist on mentioning it every ten minutes, every day? Deeply, I sighed, for I haven't spent any more then five measly minuets on that damn project. I didn't really intend to finish it anyways. The school year was coming to a close in about three months, which means my ability to care about my grades was dissipating every second.

By some miracle I assure you, Mr. Florence caught my attention by coming back to sit at his desk, which was a mere five feet away from mine. His overly cheerful voice rang throughout the room.

"I'll be accepting homework." He shouted, his voice so sickeningly sweet I could puke. Sighing, I stood and stretched out my back muscles. I grabbed my notebook which held the lazily scribbled homework I finished in ten minutes on the bus that morning. After Mr. Florence checked my sloppy handy-work, he tsked at my craftsmanship, before just giving me the points anyway. I dropped down into my chair again and spread my legs out. I folded my hands atop of my head, lacing my fingers together. My eyes slipped closed, tired from not sleeping the night before.

"Again, Dakota?" I heard Mr. Florence groan. Without even looking, I knew he was talking to Dakota Williams. He's almost as disorganized as me. Almost.

"Can I just check my locker for it?" Dakota asked him. He must have left his notebook in his locker. Opening my eyes to look at Mr. Florence and Dakota, the teacher waved him out to look in his locker. After Dakota left, Mr. Florence stood in front of the class with his "I'm better than you" smile. Words could not express how much I loathed that smile.

"It's no wonder Dakota won't find his homework. How can he with such a cluttered locker? " He then proceeded to pull something out from behind his back. A notebook with a red cover. Mr. Florence's old brown eyes rolled as if saying "how naive of him". That was Dakota's notebook. Realizing his aim, my face twisted into a deep scowl. He took Dakota's notebook to make him look dumb. Rage twisted my insides. What the hell kind of teacher does that? The class started to snicker, while a few had some faces of disgust, like me. Mr. Florence then snuck over to Dakots's desk and slipped the notebook into the binder that sat upon it. A low growl rumbled in my throat out of anger. The kids erupted in giggles and I just wanted to scream. Dakota, with a sad look on his face upon entering, and I actually fely bad for him. The kid's locker was not too far from the room. He had to have heard Mr. Florence.

"Didn't find it did you?" Mr. Florence asked the poor kid, cockiness and sarcasm noticeable in the assholes voice. Dakota's face beamed bright red, from anger or embarrassment, I couldn't decipher. Once Dakota took his seat and opened his binder, the notebook surprised him. Each emotion passed over his face. Confusion, realization, and then rage. He looked up to the teacher and glared. Mr. Florence paid him no mind. He walked back to his desk and sat down. Well, almost. I stared at the rolling chair and thought about how wonderful it would be if he missed it on his way down. If the chair disagreed with him and it rolled away from Mr. Florence and he went crashing to the ground.

Yeah, that's would be pretty great.

All of the sudden, my mind clicked. Something made me get an immense headache. My fingertips tingled. To my dismay, the whole class burst out laughing. Unaware of what happened, I looked around in a daze. Dakota was laughing too. Mr. Florence sat on the floor, papers covered the area around him and the chair; the chair was across the room. My head was pounding. Groaning, I stuck my fingers on my temples to rub them. I don't know why I tried. That trick never worked.