Slinthead

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Chapter 2- Crumpled Paper Balls

C h a p t e r 2

Florence W a l k e r

“Are they still after me?” Susan asked to me, whispering.

I checked back my shoulder. Nothing.

“Nope.” I told her.

She gave a sigh of relief, and threw off her hat. The paparazzi were bombarding us when she picked me up for school, nearly breaking her car window, causing Susan to leash out on them.

Apparently a worker at her dad's company was caught stealing from the company, prompting the paparazzi to question her.

I didn’t understand why her parent’s didn’t just take her to a private school.

Susan locked her silver Volvo with her keys, scanning the driveway with her vivid blue eyes.

“I might have to go undercover in another public school.” She told me worriedly.

I feigned surprise, pushing the front entrance door open.

"Who would I be with then? No one!" I gasped.

She felt guilty, and turned on her heel to her own locker. I went to my locker, opening it. I didn’t want to do history class, especially having Blake behind me.

*-*

“Class, this project is due on the tenth so be careful to- yes?” Miss. Rottenmier said to me.

“Miss, that’s the same day for the quarter exam, can you extend the project?” I asked her.

She stared down at me, giving me a sharp ‘no’.

I sighed, slumping low in my seat. It’s hard enough, trying to keep mom alive, let alone my grades.

“Look’s like someone’s scared to fail.” Blake said behind me.

I whirled around, seeing Blake smirking, running one hand through his his dirty blonde hair.

“Would you stop checking me out?“Blake demanded loudly.

Everyone else heard, and the whole class erupted in loud giggles. I turned around and returned to my textbook.

“Why would I look at such a monstrosity?” I retorted under my breath.

The class gave ‘Ooohs’ as I gave him a triumphant smirk.

“That’ll do class. Florence, you have an after-school.” Mrs. Rottenmier said.

I slumped back in my seat, my smirk wiped completely of my face.

I hate that woman.

*-*

“I guess I’ll text you when I’m done.” I told Susan.

She nodded, looking unsure.

“But what if reporters come at me again?” She asked, slightly whimpering.

“Then call your dad, he’ll chase them away.” I told her.

She shook her head, walking to the parking lot, murmuring to herself.

I headed to the detention room, which was my math teacher, Miss. Hawt’s room.

I was the first one there. Miss. Hawt was there grading papers. She glanced at me.

“Sit anywhere you want, Flo.” She said kindly to me.

I sat down at the table nearest the window.

Miss. Hawt is really young, and nice, but she’s a real stickler for rulers.

I set out my reading book and lined paper to takes some notes.

“Come sit down.” I heard her say to someone.

I look up and see Blake and some girl walk through the door. The girl, who I recognized as Rosalie, seemed to be stuck to Blake.

“What you get in for?” I blurted out.

He shrugged, his hands tangling in Rosalie’s hair.

“We were kissing and one thing led to another- ” He said, throwing me a sly smile.

I shook my head. Rosalie’s grip tightened around his neck, as her eyes narrowed at me. I tried not to feel nauseous as I saw her bright orange lips French-kiss Blake.

“Go find a seat.” Ms. Hawt said, getting impatient.

They both sat in the back (to my relief). But their kissing noises seemed 10 times louder as if they were right behind me.

I looked desperately at Ms. Hawt, not knowing how she didn’t hear.

“Hold on Blake, let me put on more lip stick.” I heard Rosalie say.

“Hm. I don’t know if I'm a fan of that lipstick on my cheek... bright orange, really?.” He said to Rosalie.

I heard a scuffle of a seat, and I figured out Blake ditched her. Just because of her lip stick color. He decided to sit right behind me.

“Hey.” I heard him say.

I ignored him.

“Helloo?” He said.

He kicked my seat repeatedly. In the background, I heard Rosalie’s muffled cries. Ms. Hawt seemed oblivious to everything he did.

I continued reading my book.

Kick

Kick

Kick

I ignored him. He finally stopped. I gave a sigh of relief. After one problem ended, another one started really fast. Blake started crumpling up papers and whacking them at my head.

Whack

Whack

Whack

I got fed up. I caught the paper ball Blake threw at me. I started to uncrumple it. Blake must’ve thought I wouldn’t of opened the paper ball, because his eyes got really big and his hands formed in some type of pleading form.

I smirked, drinking in the scene. If only I had a phone to video record this... I do have a phone. But it’s a burner phone, ones as small as a soap bar. Plus, it can only take 5 photos. Believe me, I wish I could get a regular phone, but mom wouldn’t let me. She claims they're evil.

I smoothed out the paper, scrutinizing to make out of the scraggly ink words that said:

‘You’re beautiful’

I rolled my eyes, and wrote back.

'I know I am, don’t know about you’.

I threw it to him. His eyebrow furrowed as he read the note. He scribbled a reply.

′ Can’t take a compliment? I take it back.′

I smiled, as I set my pen to write back a reply, that was before Ms. Hawt’s voice came booming in front of me.

“Flo! Passing notes? Bring it here.” She said, her olive toned hand outstretched.

I panicked. I knew she would share it out with the whole class in 3rd period, and talk about it with the other teachers.

I did what I had to do. I balled it up, making it small as possible. I quickly popped it in my mouth.

And swallowed it whole.

*-*

" How did it taste like?” Susan asked me.

“It tasted... like paper, only with a bunch of ink..” I said.

I felt sick. My body felt scorching hot. I lay my cheek on the cool glass of the window.

“You look sorta green.” Susan observed.

I nodded my head, my head throbbing while doing so.

I told her to pull over on the side. When she did, I threw up right then and there. A bunch of parents and teenagers were passing by cussed at me.

“You should probably go to the hospital.” Susan said coming up behind me.

I shook my head. I know it’s the ink, since it’s toxic. But I don’t tell Susan that, since I knew she would flip out. We jump back in her silver Volvo, and drove down the street to my home.

“Wait, Flo!” She said as I climbed up our front porch steps.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t die.” She says, smiling.

I gave her a grim smile.

"I'll try not to."

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