It's Just Another Kill || ✍︎

8. | girl in the ceiling.

Marcus Hudson

"Bonjour Bienvenue en francais," A teacher says to me as I walk into French for fifth period.

{Hello welcome to french,}

"Bonjour, merci" I respond.

{Hello, thank you}

She looks at me with pure happiness in her eyes. After I burned the class at my old school, teachers would look at me with fear and hesitation. Some wouldn't even talk to me. They all thought I burned the class on purpose and I would do it to their classroom too. They weren't wrong I did throw the gas bottle when no one was looking and it did set on fire. But as a kid, it still hurt, a lot.

"Est-ce que tu parles français?" She asks. She's a bit older than the rest of my teachers but seems fairly nice.

{Do you speak french?}

"Un Peu," I recite back. I took French last year after I transferred to a different school, and not to be biased but I was pretty darn good at it.

{A little}

"Hm I think your gonna do great in this class hun," She says switching from French to English.

"Thank you," I say as I peak at the sign on her door trying to find her name. "Mrs. Chapman,"

"Your welcome," She moves her arm forward to tell me to recite my name for her. "Marcus,"

"Marcus," She looks to the side of the hallway then starts yelling at a kid running down the hall.

I take that as my cue to leave and go to the front of the classroom to find my seat on the seating chart. As I'm doing so I kid bumps into my shoulder and turns around to say sorry. His face I so familiar to me but I don't know why. That's it, I saw him this morning with Livvy.

"Sorry, my bad," He says turning his head.

"It's all good," I respond trying to find my name on my board.

"Aren't you in my gym class?"

"Yeah, I think so, third hour, Jagger?" I ask him.

"Yep," He says as I finally find my seat. "I'm Zayden by the way," He says introducing himself.

"Marcus," I saw putting out my hand to shake and he shakes it.

We both walk to the back of the classroom and I assume our seats are near each other. We sit down in the back of the classroom. We bit sit in the seat the closest to the aisle so we can still talk to each other.

When I sit down and quickly glance at the seat next to me and the mentally facepalm my forehead. I should have checked who sat next to me.

I brush it off and then sit down and turn over to Zayden whose sneakily checking his Snapchat.

"You're doing a horrible job at hiding that phone," I say cheekily.

"Shut up," He deadpans.

"So where are you from?" He asks putting his phone back in his pocket.

"Pennsylvania,"

"Fun, also aren't you in your senior year?" he asks pulling out a notebook for class. Look at him being responsible, could not be me.

"Yeah, senior year," I say the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "What about you?"

"Junior,"

"Nice," I say looking at the board.

"Do you know Livvy?" He asks picking up a pencil.

"Yeah, why?" I ask grabbing one from out of my backpack and then twirling it through my fingers. I do that way too often, I don't know why but it either calms me down or keeps me focused.