The Red School

(6) Those Shorts Totally Give You Camel Toe

CHAPTER 6

Second hour goes by excruciatingly slow. It’s History class, basically a repeat of Bio with Ms. Denver going over the class rules. The thing is that the only people I actually remotely know in this class is Delilah and Dori, which is, by the way, not a good combo.

Delilah takes it upon herself to sit next to me, talking loudly and being shushed the entire class by Ms. Denver—who isn’t a pleasant lady. “I’m sorry!” Delilah goes at one point. “It’s hard to contain my excitement. I’m a hyper person.”

Ms. Denver smiles and it only makes her look more evil. “Maybe a trip to the principles off will help you contain your excitement.”

That surely shuts Delilah up. Way to go Ms. Denver.

Dori, luckily, is sitting in the back of the classroom, far away from Delilah and I… far away from us like most of the people in the classroom. I swear we weren’t this isolated when class started—Delilah opened her mouth and made everyone cautious of us. It sucks that I have to be associated with crazy Delilah—I mean I can’t just, like, tell her to move away from me. How rude would that be? But she’s doing my head in.

To say that I’m thankful when the bell rings would be the understatement of the goddamned century.

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The gym in this school is huge. It’s got shiny black floors, rows and rows of metal bleachers, and more high ceilings. “Yo, Crestlin!” someone calls from behind me after I’ve entered the gymnasium.

I look over my shoulder, a smile forming on my lips upon seeing Libba and Libby. It’s the first class we’ve all got together, and the first class I have with Libba.

“What’s up? Fancy seeing you two here.” I greet them.

Both on either side, they fall in step next to me. “Oh, I was just telling Libba here about our after school plans.” Libby says in an excited voice.

“Oh,” I make a face. “Hey, guys, we don’t have to go to that…”

“Obviously,” Libby scoffs. “But we want to.”

“Yeah, I want to.” Libba speaks up, giving her sister a pointed look. “I can speak for myself, you know.”

Libby, sticks out her tongue.

“I just don’t think we should go.” I add on, looking more over to Libba than Libby. She seems to be the twin with the power.

“And why’s that?” they ask in unison, both hands on their hips. Then they glare at each other for a split second.

Shaking my head, I go, “Okay, a, freaky. And b, Florenca Irvian’s evil.” I emphasize the word evil, giving it a second to sink in.

Libby rolls her eyes. “She seemed nice enough. And she has nice hair.”

Libba makes a face at her sister. “Just because she has nice hair doesn’t mean she’s nice, doofus. And she’s Claude Irvian’s daughter—she has to be evil.”

“Just because her father’s bad doesn’t mean she is, Libba. Be practical.”

True…

“Wait, if you agree with me, why do you still want to go?” I ask, looking at Libba.

Shrugging, “Hey, I’ve never actually met her. And I don’t really care to meet her, I just need to get out of here. This place is making me claustrophobic, I swear it.”