Humiliation's my Middle Name

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I wanted to thank all those that commented on the previous chapter. I shall leave 'Primrose' the name of the island. I do feel rather silly now that I drew so much attention to a mistake no one else noticed, but at least now I have all your opinions, and that's what's important to me~
Also, I apologise if the 'school' setting is getting dull. Trust me, I do have quite a bit of drama for this story~

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Time dragged on, and with each excruciatingly drawn-out second, it was becoming increasingly harder to focus on what the teacher was saying. Rebecca – whom you were surprised to find was also enrolled in the class – was seated in front of you, and rather than focus on the history of the island, you were more invested with staring at the back of her head, fascinated by the Cheeto that had somehow gotten ensnared within the inescapable knots. You can’t help but wonder how exactly it got there and how she had not yet realised that it was there.

Perhaps it was high time you let her know.

Removing the pen from between your lips, you lean forward and give the back of Rebecca’s neck a poke. Somehow she wasn’t aware that you were attempting to get her attention in a discreet manner and simply scratched the spot which you poked. With pursed lips, you lean forward and try again.

Success!

She turns in her seat to face you and yanked the neon green earbuds from her ears. “What’s up?” Unlike what you were planning on doing, she didn’t bother with whispering.

You flash an apologetic smile her way. “Sorry, Becs, but you’ve got a Cheeto caught in the back of your hair. Thought you might want to know.”

“A Cheeto, huh?” She clawed at the back of her head, the cheese coated snack now trapped between her fingers. “I was wondering why Yusuf was pissing himself during lunch. Thanks, (Y/N).” She flashed a crooked grin before plopping the Cheeto into her mouth, crunching on it loudly enough to disturb the lesson.

An attention-seeking cough draws your attention to the teacher standing tall beside your desk. “Oh, I’m sorry. Have I interrupted the conversation you were having? God, that was awfully rude, wasn’t it?” Sarcasm dripped from his words, a pair of russet eyes narrowing behind thin-rimmed glasses. “Do you want me to wait until gossip-hour is over? Or can I get to teaching things that are actually important?”

You sink further into your chair, muttering an apology, whilst Rebecca smirks and inserts one earbud into her ear. “Lighten up, Shaun.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, repeating an oft-stated maxim. “For the last time, Rebecca, my name to you children is Mr Hastings. Now, getting back to more important things...” He continued writing on the whiteboard. “Who can tell me what historic moment took place on our very own Primrose Island two hundred and twenty years ago?”

The class remained silent; everyone was preoccupied with their own devices.

“Anyone?” Shaun turned to face the class, tapping the whiteboard marker against his open palm. “Anyone at all? No? Am I speaking English or an ancient dialect no one remembers?” When nobody answers, he throws his head back as a sign of exasperation and plops down on the edge of his desk. “And here I was idiotic enough to believe teaching was going to be a rewarding experience,” he grumbles bitterly, pushing his glasses to the top of his head so he could rub his eyes. “Ms Bonny? Do you care to weigh in?”

Assassin's Creed High-School Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora