Six minutes until the clock strikes three. The second hand seems to drag like an intoxicated person walking out of a bar. The teacher is nose deep on the smart board and mumbling about the process of mitosis, ignoring the fact that not a single student is giving two shits about the lesson. Private school is so stupid. These uniforms are stupid. Why I’m here is so stupid. It’s just a place for rich parents to drop their kids off who are going to turn into party animals at the Ivy Leagues.
In a classroom holding twenty students, it has its stereotypes. The teacher’s kiss ass is sitting up straight with his laced hands on top of his desk and is pretending to show utter interest in the dull lecture. Miss Barbie doll with her blonde curly pig tails is smacking her bubble gum obnoxiously and is texting away on her phone like she is someone important with those awful glittery and hot pink fingernails. The popular football captain is passed out on his desk, using a football as a pillow, and drooling all over it. The hilariousness of these characters surpasses those at my old high school. Snapping pictures of sleeping beauty, I text the pictures to my co-workers who will laugh their asses off.
While these brats focus their attention on anything but the lecture, my attention lies on a particular person. Two desks away to my left, there is an incredibly handsome man who has been sneaking glances at me most of the class. There is an empty desk between us, creating a clear line of sight.
Joel is his name. He has dirty blonde hair in a high and tight military cut, dark blue eyes, and a very charming smile. He is the tallest and the most muscular male compared to the rest of the males in the class, including the football captain. He looks a little old to be a high school student. I overheard from a group of girls led by Miss Barbie that he transferred here a week before I did. The word, ‘lone wolf,’ was tossed around a few times.
Four minutes until the clock strikes three. My impatience is released in a form of a deep exhale and I clinch my purse tightly. I glance over to my admirer and receive a charming grin. His eyes hunger like a predator after his prey. This is the first time he has shown any interest in a female classmate. Any girl in here would have been giddy with joy but one could say I’m giddy for a different reason. I return a flirty smile and swing my head up to the board, acting slightly interested. This guy is something else. I wish someone would have notified me of these details.
Two minutes until the clock strikes three. Anticipation is making me nervous and my impatience hits a new high. Perspiration from my hand makes my purse feel slimy. Glimpsing over to my admirer, Joel is now leaning toward my direction as if ready to jump out of his seat. He holds a sinister smile and his eyes study my body intently. I give him a playful wink. Taking his hand and forming a V with two fingers, he flicks his tongue in between. The long sleeve of his shirt drops by an inch, exposing some dark tattoos. Oh, I got you now! I conceal my grimace with a playful oh-you-are-so-naughty finger shake as my other hand grips tighter onto my purse. With a fake giggle, I return his vulgar gesture by hiking my skirt up and revealing half of one thigh. Once the clock strikes three, he might run off before I can reach him and I need to keep his attention. The very fact I have to play this guy’s game is humiliating. I’m going to chew out Colin for this one.
The alarm sounds and all the students hastily scurry to leave, causing all sorts of commotion from shuffling feet to desk chairs scratching the floor. I unzip my purse and slip my hand inside which then I hear it. There’s no mistaking the sound of a gun being cocked.
My admirer has his hand inside his draw-string bag aiming toward me. Criminal intentions have replaced his flirty facade. We lock eyes as I inconspicuously clutch my gun in my purse and aim it in his direction. Having been hunting this guy named ‘Joel’ down for months, let’s see if my training pays off.
“Is there a reason for you two to still be in here?” The teacher asks, shooting glances between me and the felon with his thick glasses. He is the last person in the room who needs to leave.
“I’ve been asked to give tutoring lessons.” A melodic voice came out of the felon and shot an Oscar-winning smile at him. “Oh! How generous you are.” The old man smiles for having fallen for his charm and snaps his briefcase shut, “Now you kids better behave. See you tomorrow.”
The moment the old man left, I draw my gun.