~cherry~ Mitchell Harper // discontinued

Parents Evening

He got out of his fathers car with his jacket zipped up all the way and his hood up over his eyes. I trudged towards the school doors. "Every morning." Miss Pickwell complained and ripped his hood from his head.

He just carried on into the school and pulled it back up. He was stopped by three boys staring him down, they walked past each other and he kept walking. He barged into a classroom and threw up in the sink by the door, he turned around and saw the class and teacher staring.

"Sorry, carry on" Mr Alfie Wickers, history teacher of form K said and left the classroom.

He walked into his own classroom just as the bell rang, he slumped into his chair and a student came towards him and handed him some papers.

"I've taken the liberty of doing the form register for you" she spoke. He shushed her.
"[in Chinese]You pathetic excuse for a teacher" she spat.
"Jing, your language is very beautiful, but means nothing to me" he replied.

"Parents evening tonight sir, you get to meet my mum, everyone says she's a MILF" another pupil came to his desk and informed him.
"Ugh, Chantelle haven't you got a class to be preparing for?" He retorted.
"Maths, we're doing fractions, apparently 23 won't go into 15, Mrs Mollinson says it's impossible." She replied. "We'll see about that" Chantelle whispered with a seductive wink.

The door barged open, two boys and a girl appeared through it. One boy in a wheelchair, the girl in his lap and the other boy pushing the chair.
"RemDogg, why are you late?" Me Wickers asked.
"Wheelchair!" RemDogg replies pointing to the wheelchair he was sitting in.
"And you Mitchell?" Wickers asked.
"Well, this thing don't push itself does it?" Mitchell Harper retorted.
He sighs. "And Katie?"
"Moral support. And my legs are tired"

Alfie rolls his eyes as they went to their seats. RemDogg went to the back of the class, Mitchell and Katie infront of him sharing the table.

"Look, please, it's Monday morning, I have a hangover. Joe can you look in the first aid box and see if it has got any Berocca in it?" Mr Wickers asked the boy sitting at the front of the classroom, Joe Poulter.
"Yes, dad" he replied then instantly regretted it as the whole class laughed.

"Oh my days, he just called Mr Wickers dad! What a helmet!" Mitchell laughed and snapped his fingers.
"Shut up Mitchell" Mr Wickers stood up. "At least he knows who his dad is" Mitchell looked away in defeat and everyone laughed again.

——

'HANGOVER CLASS' it read on the white board in big handwriting. The whole class were asleep except for Jing, who was writing in her notepad, and Katie who was drawing on a sleeping Mitchell's face.

Miss Pickwell came through the door and slammed it to wake Mr Wickers and the students up.
"And that's how quiet Anne Frank and her family had to be to evade capture from the Nazis" Mr Wickers said as though he hadn't been sleeping.
"Mr Wickers, I need the papers" Miss Pickwell spoke.
"You want to see my papers?" He asked in a German accent.

"The mock exam papers Mr Wickers." She replied, unamused.
"Has anyone ever told you that you'd make a wonderful SS officer?" Mr Wickers stalled.
"Yes. Now shall we just do this in my office?" Pickwell suggested. Mr Wickers agreed and they left for Miss Pickwell's office.

They were sitting in the dullest room Mr Wickers had ever been in, the deputy head office.
"I need to progress the mock exam results for parents evening tonight" Pickwell began.
"Yeah, right, good, I was hoping you'd ask about those" Wickers stalked yet again.
"Stop fanny farting Mr Wickers. Just give me the results, where are they" she retorted. Wickers clicked his tongue twice and tapped the side of his head with his finger.