Skinny • Book 1 In The Reality Series

Calum

 Sitting in government on Monday morning, I let Mr. Woodard’s low rambling drawl float in one ear and out the other as I stared hard at the wooden classroom door wondering why Katy hadn’t walked through it.

She hadn’t been in math either, or history, and I was beginning to worry. I’d voiced my concern to the counselor Mr. Wick, however with the three recent teen pregnancy announcements, he was too busy preparing for his condom conference to pay me much attention.

Tearing my gaze away from the door I glanced up at the dusty clock which hung above it.

Ten minutes left. When I’d checked what felt like twenty minutes prior the time had been almost identical. I wondered if schools did that on purpose, got bogus clocks which counted every ten seconds as one. It would seem like a plausible enough idea if the teachers didn’t wait for the bell beckoning them to fresh air and freedom more than the students, if not more so.

“Calum.”

Realizing that my name had been being repeated for several minutes I shifted my gaze to where Mr. Woodard was sitting cross legged on his desk, cleaning his glasses with the hem of his pants.

“Calum.” He repeated.

“Yes sir?” I asked, earning amused snickers from the people sat at the surrounding desks.

“Let’s try this again.” Mr. Woodard sighed, “Do you know where Katy Pratt is?”

My skin prickling under the scrutinizing glares of everyone in the room and feeling somehow guilty by association I shook my head rapidly.

“Alright.” Mr. Woodard muttered rising to his feet, “Well, does anyone know where Miss Pratt is?”

Catching something flash through the air out of the corner of my eye I looked over at Lexi who had her hand raised.

“Alexis?” Mr. Woodard questioned.

“Maybe she’s sick.” She replied innocently, trying hard to suppress a smirk.

“Drinking puddle water will do that to you.” Someone muttered under their breath.

“What was that?” Mr. Woodard asked.

Smirking the boy who had spoken, whom I recognized as the captain of the lacrosse team Ross, shrugged.

“I don’t know why it matters that she’s not here.” Lexi added.

Mr. Woodard sighed, “Because she was supposed to present her project on the European history of government today.”

“I don’t know where she is.” Ross said, leaning back in his char, “But I’m glad she’s not here, this class isn’t half bad without her sucking up all the fresh air.”

Laughter ensued.

“Ross.” Mr. Woodard sighed.

“What?” Ross chuckled, “It’s true. Fat people stink, they can’t bend over to clean the gunk out of their gut rolls.”

“Ross.” Mr. Woodard warned.

“It’s a fact.” Ross laughed, raising his arms in surrender, “Katy’s cooch smells like a McDonalds dumpster on Saturday morning after they’ve dumped all Friday’s left over Fillet-O-Fish.”

Mr. Woodard frowned, “Ros…”

“Why don’t you shut up?” I interrupted, turning in my seat to face the tall, broad porcine looking punk sat behind me, “That’s not true so just shut up!”

“How would you know that that’s not true?” Ross chuckled, not skipping a beat.

“Because.” I snapped, “It’s not.”