today has been uneventful.
i woke up thirty minutes late and missed the bus i usually get to school. i absolutely bombed a maths test earlier that day. now i've left my tedious art class. i usually love the subject but god the teacher is insufferable!
to top it off, i've felt the most awful anxiety the entire day.
i see patrick and ashley hanging by our lockers. finally, my beloved friends. i walk over towards them, trying to muster a confident tone. "hello pookies!"
"emma!! hey! have you done the homework for mr urie's class? remember last time when pete forget his presentation? he sat in detention for three hours!"
shit.
"fuck. no, i didn't. what was it about again?"
"a massive essay about shakespeare. haha, you're fucking dead babe. he takes that shit seriously-"
patrick hits ashley playfully, "don't tell her that! don't worry, em. maybe he's feeling particularly generous today?"
"i seriously doubt it. but don't worry about it... I'm just gonna have to live with it. i'll just say i've been having panic attacks again."
"and have you?"
they never left.
"no,"
"that's good! but come on. we should get going. if we're late, he's going to fucking kill us."
we all hurry into our seats, just like the other students. english was definitely one class no one fucked with - because of mr urie. hell, everyone is scared of him.
i had to admit i was afraid of him. it sounds so stupid. i mean, he's just a high school english teacher. there's something so intimidating... yet attractive about him? that was another generally accepted fact. he was really attractive.
"alright class. textbooks out. pages 47 through 50."
there was a tiny speck of hope within me that he would forget the homework assignment. no... who the fuck am i kidding? this guy never forgets a damn thing. he's so damn organised and neat.
"in fifteen minutes i'll be collecting your homework assignments. i'm expecting twenty-five perfect hamlet essays. no damn excuses this time."
well that's just great.
for the next fifteen minutes, i'm visibly trembling. the anxiety is eating my alive. i wish the ground would swallow me whole and just let me fossilise myself. i almost jump out of my skin when he begins calling out names.
"melanie, bring your work down."
i look over at melanie, who looks adorable as always. you can see a light blush stain her cheeks and her hands are clamped together nervously. i can see her essay written on lined pink paper with bunnies decorating the margin.
"pete. your essay."
"ashley, your essay,"
"emma, your essay please,"
i look up suddenly from my book, gripping it with shaking hands. "uh, sir..." i look down at my knees, "i have't done the homework."
"what was that?"
"i don't have the homework with me."
after a few seconds of silence, i look up inquisitively. he sighs but doesn't make eye contact with me.
"see me after class."
yeah. so much for trying to improve my grades and get rid of my anxiety.