Dying Girl & Bad Boy

What Does BFF Stands For?

What Does BFF Stands For?

***

"What you have done is unacceptable and coming from the school's top rank student makes it even worse. You do realize that you represent the school and by trying to skip class, let me add on the second day of school is very unlike you," the short principal said once again. This has been going on since, let's say forever. The man won't let go and he won't listen when I tried to explain that I simply came late and  was not skipping class.

"Principal Thomas, I was no trying to skip class. I take my classes very seriously unlike some people. Whatever this is," I said gesturing to the three of us, later on joined by the brat Jackson was messing with. 

"This is a silly misunderstanding. I was not the one skipping class. You could check my records. I have not even once been caught skipping," I pleaded. I can't get detention; I just don't think I could handle it.

"So you are saying you do skip but you are too smart for the securities to catch you, so you think technically you have never skipped" Jackson for the first time tried to help me or so I thought. I was so focused on the horrific idea of having a detention ruin my perfect student report that I totally lost what he said.

"Exactly" I chipped happily, and then said "Wait, what? No!"

"I think we both know what has been happening and I hope you get your head out of the cloud and do what you do best, which is be a role model." Principal Thomas said, and stood up to escort us to our class.

I knew I made him disappointed but God I was so happy I didn't get detention. There was no feeling like a time when you escape from being blamed for something you haven't done. Let me tell you something, justice tastes so good.

For some reason unknown Jackson was whistling a happy tune alongside me. He was happy for me? I thought but then laughed at my stupidity, Jackson has never been happy for me. If he can I know he wishes his birthday was the same day as mine so he could have the best party ever right across the street and make mine look stupid. But God was not that harsh on me, which I am thankful for.

When we arrived on the third floor in room 319, the principal turned and gave us both a sweet smile.

"Well go and make the world a better place. It is scary enough you bunch of idiots will be taking care of me when I am in nursing house" he muttered and pushed us in.

I went to sit at the back since the only seats left where at the back. A typical Emma would come early to class and take the seat right across from the teacher. I liked the front seats because it was very effective way to communicate with the teacher or not be included in stupid drama. You might have guessed where Jackson sits. He walks in to class and takes the seat that is symmetrical to the teacher's desk, which unfortunately makes him on the same row as me, but that is not all. His seat gives him the best view through the widow; it makes him part of the class yet part of the rebellion stupid bunch. 

His seat is the best in class. He was in the middle of all the activity that happens in class. And very frustratingly his seat hasn't been touched. Everyone expects him to make it to class one time or another. Suddenly I had the very urge to go take his seat, what way to embarrass the lion rather than taking his territory right in front of everyone. I stood up from the back and sat on his - let me rephrase my wording the school's chair. Everyone was giving me the eye.

Jackson only smiled. And I smiled back sweetly while everyone was looking and gave him the middle finger right when the teacher turned his back to the class. 

As Jackson passed me by he bumped by me on purpose. He was provoking, asking for another fight, argument that I see now as a thing I disliked. If anything has changed it was defiantly the way I see our fights. They no longer excite me, or give me a satisfaction. His mean words hurt and I realized I was not hurt before because I was never able to relate to him. He was rich with a father who is doctor. I was poor with a father who works at construction sites.