"Ms. Kennedy, would you like to come up and answer the question?" Mrs. Trevor asked as she tapped on my table. It's not really a question, it was more of an order. So I obliged, ducking my head and letting my hair cast a curtain around my face. I let it hide my features as I walked down the small aisle between the rows of desks.
My name's Lucinda Kennedy but everyone calls me Luce or Lucy. Aside from those nick names I am also known as the Genius Freak that proves teachers wrong and points out their mistakes. I am what you guys would call both a tech and math whiz. In stereotypes, I would be classified as the ultimate nerd of the century but I was too big of a nerd/freak to even be accepted in the nerd's population. Yes, I am an outcast. Even from my 'kin'. They told me I was 'too smart', I mean, is that even a thing?
While picking up the marker, I noticed a minor mistake in the laid out question and quirked my eyebrow at it discreetly before reaching out to grab the board eraser and used the tip of it to erase a section of the equation before writing down the correct one and solving it.
"Thank you, Ms. Kennedy. That'll be all," Mrs. Trevor said and I turned to face a very irritated teacher. I ducked my head once again and walked back to my seat. It's always been like this. Me correcting a teacher and them getting irritated on being corrected by a mere student. Some were kind and would genuinely thank me, some would feel annoyed but they would suck it up and some would actually insult me subtly. Not that the other students mind, they actually take joy in it. What better way to waste class time than to watch the teacher make a laughingstock out of the freak of the school?
Well, I guess most of them wouldn’t mind. I say most because the nerds would actually get annoyed at me for wasting their precious study time. I don’t blame them. Even though I was rejected by their clique, I still thought of myself as the same type of people as them. I would be pissed at the person who would argue with the teacher over dumb shit during class time too. Unfortunately, most of the time, that person happens to be me.
But hey, it’s not like I do it just for the heck of it. I don’t even intend to start the argument. I would usually just correct them by muttering something under my breath and their super hearing powers would somehow pick it up and snap the class’ attention to me.
Which is very annoying, if I do say so myself. If I wanted to be the center of attention, I wouldn’t have bothered muttering the correction under my breath. I would’ve just announced it loudly to the class, you know.
I knew that the smarter thing to do would probably be to overlook the mistake and avoid offending or embarrassing the teacher. But I just can’t. Call it my smartass complex, but for some reason, I’m just incapable of leaving the mistake there knowing that it was wrong.
I’d like to see my smartass complex as the act of showing some kindness to my fellow classmates that have shunned me. If I didn’t correct that mistake, it would be like forever letting them believe that 1 + 1 = 3. So yes, I just did them a great favor.
I sat silently for the rest of the class before the clock stroke 12 and lunch came around. "Okay class, I will see you tomorrow and make sure you don't forget to do those assignments I gave you. I expect them to be placed on this table before I arrive." Mrs. Trevor dismissed but her last words were drowned out by the groans of bummed students.
I packed up my things into the small backpack I brought along with me and slung it over my shoulder before making my way out of the classroom leisurely, bracing myself for what's about to come in the hallways.
It’s the same thing every day. High school people are just filled with bored people that has got nothing better to do except for making others feel like shit to make themselves feel better. It’s like they simply haven’t got the slightest idea of any other way to brighten their day except for putting others down.
On one hand, I feel shit because most of the time, I’m the one getting shitted on so that they’ll feel better about themselves, but on the other hand, I do feel bad for them. I have had the strong urge to direct them to the nearest psychiatrist ever since I came up with this conclusion.
As I stepped out of my class, the biggest source of my high school headache greeted me.
"Move away, Freak!" Ah yes, the school's 'sweetheart' and my personal satan, Gina Fitzers. She may leave a kind and charming first impression on you but trust me, you do not want to get to know the she-devil inside. Hard to believe but she used to be a really nice kid when we were in kindergarten, but of course puberty struck and Satan implanted his daughter inside sweet innocent little Gina.
She is hell bent on making my high school years the worst years of my life and she's succeeding. "Ugh! Get out of the fucking way, you fucking low-life! You're wasting my precious time! Unlike you, I actually have a social life and has got things to do aside from sitting down and read books. So, move!" She spat viciously before shoving me out of the way, causing me to stumble on my own foot and fall backwards. Everything in my grip slipped out and ended up landing a few feet away. The papers I was holding descended to the floor almost graciously, scattering themselves and covering the floor around me. My bag slid a few feet away from me and as I braced myself for the fall, I shut my eyes and prepared to feel the pain that was going to come next.
But it never came.
I slowly opened one of my eyes in confusion before opening both of them when I realized I was suspended mid-air. I felt hands on my waist turned me around against my will to face broad shoulders.
"Whoa, easy there!" I told him, as I rested my head against one of my palms and used the other to steady myself using his build. He turned me around way too fast, my head was starting to spin and now, I need to cradle it.
"You okay there?" A deep voice flooded my senses. I grunted in response and blinked a couple of times before shaking my head lightly only to freeze when the she-devil started talking again, referring to the guy who was holding me steady.
"Ryder!"
Mother of ice creams.
Ryder as in Ryder Park?
Well, for all of you who don't know Ryder Park, you guys must be living under some huge ass rock. Ryder Park is what you'd call the Bad Boy of Wyns High. His dad was in the army and was killed so he lives with his mother and little brother. He left for California three years ago because of some unknown reasons but as you can see, the dude's back and kickin'.
I hurriedly detached myself from him and moved five steps back. "Give way, coming through. Watch it, Oompa! Don't come closer, I don't want your AIDS shit infecting me! Move!" I heard Minions firefighter sirens blasting through the hallways as a figure pushed through the crowd and came barreling towards us.
I brought my hands to my face and face-palmed myself, hard, and I let my hand stay there, covering my face.
Why?
Because the chic that's behind all those noises was my so-called best friend and she just called Gina Oompa Loompa.
God help me.
"Luce! There you are! I've been searching everywhere for you! These bitches need to lose some of those hair products, they’re making it hard to breathe in here with all that hair spray!" She complained loudly.
As you can see, my one and only dear friend is the one with the bigger balls between the two of us here. For some reason, no one has ever been able to intimidate her.
I mean, I don’t really get intimidated by the likes of Gina Fitzers. Especially since I’ve known her since her pre-puberty days. I’ve seen that girl cry and throw tantrums as a little kid – not saying that she doesn’t still do it now, even in high school, but you get my point. It’s just too hard to be intimidated by someone you’ve known for so long.
No, the type of people that would intimidate me, and even my crazy best friend would be someone like Ryder Park.
Tia smiled cheekily but the ends of her lips slowly dropped as she finally felt the tension in the air.
"Ooh-kay.." She moved closer to me before whispering, "Luce, what's going on? Who's the hottie, by the way? I would so hit that."
I had the urge to wince at how loud she was being. Ryder definitely heard that last comment she made. She can be so damn embarrassing sometimes but you can't help but love her.
Ryder cleared his throat and we all whipped our heads to look at him, standing there with all his cockiness and glory. "Err, nice meeting you but we gotta bail so.. Ciao!" I told him awkwardly before hauling ass.
