Adrift

The first domino falls

"When you think of magnets, what do you immediately think of?" Mrs. Wilson paced around the room, her heels clicking menacingly on the hardwood floor of the silent classroom.

Nobody talks in Mrs. Wilson's class. She is a strict disciplinarian, even yawning in her class could earn you a trip to detention. She always wore her hair in a tight bun, had a button-up shirt and almost always wore a tulip skirt with her classic black heels. Everyone avoided her cold gaze through her thin, metal frame glasses. That woman could make the Pacific Ocean freeze over with one stern look.

She took a few more paces around the class, then finally turned her head, "Mr. Smith?" She called out.

I glanced over at Micheal, the poor kid hadn't even been paying attention. He was a year younger than a lot of us, so he was well known in the grade because of his considerably small frame. Skipping ninth grade is a pretty impressive feat though, I'll grant him that. You could clearly notice the dark bags under his eyes, against his pale complexion and messy blonde hair. He seemed to drift off for a moment, then snap back into reality once his deskmate kicked his foot underneath the table.

He paused for a moment, "Neuton's Law of Motion states that a moving object will remain in a state of motion unless an external force acts on it."

"Well, Mr. Smith, you'll be happy to know that your statement is correct," Mrs. Wilson stated, tapping her heel; Micheal seemed proud for a moment, "however, that was not the question. It would be in your best interest to provide me your undivided attention during my class."

A few giggles erupted throughout the room as Micheal's face and the tips of his ears flared up. Mrs. Wilson proceeded with the lesson and the clock continued to tick by ever so slowly. Eventually, the period ended and it was time to head to our next classes. Students flooded the halls, the opening and slamming of lockers, the musky smell of body odor and cheap cologne stabbed it's way up to your nostrils; all of these were included in the atmosphere the school provided. I don't prefer getting caught in the stampede of stressed students, so I decided to wait for everyone else to leave the room first.

Looking around, I recognized a familiar head of gold on one of the desks near the back of the room. I head towards Micheal, fast asleep, softly snoring. I pick up my notebook and binders and walk over.

I tap on his shoulder, there was no response.

I tapped a second time, he stirred, but it was still not enough to wake him.

"Hey--" I was cut off by the loud sound of lip-smacking and a curious noise. I watched as his eyes fluttered open, and he slowly raised his head.

"Class is over," I stated. He looked around the room, wide-eyed.

"Oh- Thanks."

He rose from his seat and started gathering his things. I waited for him to finish and headed towards the door next to him. Once, outside the stuffy classroom, I turn to him.

"Don't worry about Mrs. Wilson, she gives everyone the hibbie gibbies. I heard that if you open your mouth while you're next to her, she sucks out your soul." I state, walking at the same pace as the blonde, who is surprisingly just a little taller than me.

He chuckled, "Thanks, I should've been listening though, that was my bad.."

"My name's Anna."

"Micheal."

"Cool."

"Heck yeah."

A moment of silence passed by us and a solid three seconds passed before we quickly tried to cover it up.

"Well I should--"

"Yeah," He scratched the back of his neck, "nice meeting you Anna."

We headed toward opposite sides of the halls, toward the rest of our classes, away from each other. Biting my thumb, I sped up, hoping to get to my last period earlier to at least get it over with faster. 

Cool? After years of reading fancy books, trying to seem intelligent and impressive, and at the peak of my social interactions, all I could come up with was cool? 

I entered the locker rooms quickly, looking around for any feet that might belong to a girl. I figure I'm a tad early after my unsuccessful search. After changing into my gym uniform, I slowly walk onto the waxed gymnasium floor; my shoes making surprisingly loud squeaking noises. To my dismay, I find my entire dead silent class standing in one long line listening to the instructor. They all turn to look at me and a chilling moment of realization zaps through my body. 

I'm late to class. 

The instructor approaches me with a wide-eyed smile. His bulging muscles were prominent through his tight tank top. "Miss Plyat," his voice boomed, "what makes you think being late to my class is in any way, shape or form acceptable?" 

I thought for a moment, feeling myself sweat. "Uhh... It's-- not?" 

"You are prepared to take responsibility for this careless act, no?" He boomed once more, his muscles growing larger, along with his smile. 

I considered my options in this situation, on one hand, I could die, on the other I would have to actually talk to this two hundred pound, protein shake guzzling jackass.  At this point, I could hear my classmates whispering among themselves. 

"Actually, maybe I'm not quite ready, but if you insist that's okay too."

He let out a humorless laugh, "Do you think this is a joke, Miss Plyat?" He got closer to my face, "Do you see me laughing?"

"Uhh... just now, yeah." I sweat more the closer he got until he was right next to my ear; I could hear him breathing.

"Fifteen laps around the courtyard, Miss Plyat."