Uneven {Lams}

Chapter Nine

John Pov
I wrote my fucking heart out for this asshole at two A.M and still got a fucking B. This fucking bitch.

I hate it.
I hate college more than I hate myself and that's fucking saying something considering I'm a reckless, sleep deprived, semi suicidal bitch.

"That fucking bitch," I hissed, dropping my bag next to the couch.

"I gotta agree with you.
He's a scumbag." Alex said.

"Yeah! And the fucking TA-"

"Doesn't know his left from right and couldn't grade a paper if it was the end of the world." Alex finished.

"Exactly!"
I exclaimed, exasperated.

I slumped down on our couch, my head in my hands. Alex dropped his bag near mine, sitting down next to me.

"Ya think I should get my nose pierced?" He asked, going through shit on his phone.

"It'd look cooler on your eyebrow I think." I said.

"That's true,"
He muttered.

I glanced to him and though he looked at his phone the gears in his minds seemed to considering taking up my suggestion.

"Would you do it if I did?" He asked after a moment.

"Dunno. My family already fucks me over every time I'm over at holiday and they see my pierced ears." I told him.

"Why does your family even give a shit?" He muttered.

"Not sure. Them nagging me once over a holiday is better then them showing up to our dorm and going, 'Mlerg! It's me!' And stabbing me." I said.

Alex snickered, nodding.

"Wouldn't mind if I got stabbed. Sounds like a cool way to die."
I muttered.

Alex rolled his eyes, muttering something along the lines, "Shut your suicidal ass mouth."

"I'm so fucking glad I don't take morning classes." I said.

"I saw a freshman dying over their morning class. Honesty, they looked like they wanted to flip a fucking bus." Alex said.

I snickered, glancing to Alex.

My eyes stopped and trained on his, which were focused on his phone. I glanced to his phone, seeing him reading something. It's probably some dumb shit about dolphins are bisexual.

I looked back at his eyes, biting my lip softly, furrowing my eyebrows ever so slightly.

Damn.

"Yo, Laur, coulda be so kind and get me a soda pleease?" Alex said, raising an eyebrow, though not looking away from his phone.

I rolled my eyes, getting up and muttered, "Fine asshole."

He flipped me off, glancing to me.
His eyes nearly darted back to his phone but there was slight hesitation before looking away.

"We have another night class at eleven, right?" He asked.

"Oh fuck. With Mr.Leger?" I said, getting a coke from our fridge.

Guess who went to the store because starvation sounds not so nice?
Me, that's who.

I sat down next to him, handing him a coke before opening my own.

"Yeah, that vague ass bitch,"
Alex muttered.

"He ain't that bad but I'd rather have a normal fucking teacher but no, Kings has to be all prissy and get teachers that speak in riddles." I said, taking a sip from my drink.

Alex chuckled, stuffing his phone in his pocket.

"Five hours till class starts..
You think I can go do shit for four hours and then come back then on the way to campus get a nap in on the city bus?" He asked.

I smirked.
"Not sure, but I'd gladly watch you try." I said.

"Challenge accepted," Alex said, hopping over the back of the couch, spilling a bit of soda in the process.

That prick better mop that shit.

"Aight call me at..
Nine forty. I'll be back by ten,"
He hummed, grabbing his bag and running out of our dorm.

Where the hell is he even going? Probably to sell drugs or do drugs with Dale.

Or get fucked by Dale.

God I still can't remove that from my mind. He said that ended right?
I fucking hope so.

Don't know why, but I don't like the thought of..Dale and..Alex..fucking.

Oh my god that's so fucking gross I cant-

I got up and went to my room, and decided to screw homework and started sketching because that's easier than..everything.

It helps me stop thinking about shit. Sometimes I guess.

Most the time I listen to music while I draw so that thinking doesn't play much of a role, (thank God) so it helps. Thinking using leads to overthinking which leads to feeling things.
I don't like that last bit.

I'd rather stay the prick that bottles of his, oh so precious feelings, than having to deal with all of my fucked emotions head on.

I drew out a face, not particularly knowing who. I've never been good at drawing faces but whenever I show someone, they look at their own artwork and flip a fucking table so I guess it can't be that bad.

Though I still say I'm not too great at it, based off my own ideas.
I glanced to the clock.

Alex better get his ass in gear.