You glared at the paper that had the assignment on it. Another project, honestly?! Your history teacher was killing you with all these projects! Why couldn’t you just learn the information then take a test, like normal classes? Oh, no, the projects were your tests. The class wouldn’t like it if he just gave out a test, blah, blah, blah.
You supposed it wasn’t just the project that was working your patience. Another part was the crowd of your classmates that decided to huddle around your desk, asking time after time, student after student, if you’d be their partner.
“Why would I be your partner?” You wanted to say to them, “So I can do all the work?”
But, of course you wouldn’t say that to them. Being known as one of the nicest and smartest people in your school was a good title to have, in your opinion. As such, you wanted to keep that title, so yelling at your classmates was simply not an option. You just kept your face in your book, not looking at any of them. They’d back off when the bell rang, then you’d pick one person who thought would be the least likely to ruin the entire project and/or be the iceberg that sunk the titanic.
You’d been through it plenty of times; you picked a partner, thought of the most elaborate and great idea for the project, and then the other person ruined it and you had to fix everything and rush to get it done on time. Why couldn’t the teacher ever cut you some slack and let you work on your own?
Oh, because that wouldn’t be fair to the other students, and you needed to be a role model, come on, he knew you could do it, blah, blah, blah.
You had to say… Group projects were complete and utter bullsh-
“Everyone, back in your seats, the bell is going to ring soon,” the teacher’s voice came from somewhere in the room, probably annoyed. You couldn’t quite tell over the collective groan from your classmates.
Couldn’t they tell that if you didn’t answer them, that you didn’t want to talk? It should be common sense, you figured.
The bell wasn’t going to ring for another ten minutes.
“Why’d you make us sit, teach’?”
“The bell isn’t going to ring that soon!”
“We’ve got plenty of time!”
You sighed. Thank you, teacher. You were glad to be everyone’s favorite student at times like this. It was really nice, aside from all the high expectations, chores, and errands.
You looked over to the other end room, feeling a pair of eyes on you. That was where he sat. Any good student’s worst enemy. The complete embodiment of juvenile delinquency. The absolute most terrible, horrible, barbaric, student you’d ever come across. You couldn’t stand him! He was constantly ruining everything you did; he wasn’t even ever your partner, either. No matter if it was barging in on student council (which you happened to be the president of, you’d say with pride) meetings from detention, when he actually went, though he usually skipped. Even though he was absolutely revolting to you every way, shape, and form, you always wanted to help him.
You couldn’t stop yourself. H-he just was lazy! He wasn’t dumb by any means at all, he actually seemed just as capable as you were of doing the work.
He was just so… So…
Who is this terrible freak of nature, everyone wonders.
Why, it’s none other than Mr. Al Jones.
You glared over at him, though he gave a taunting wave and a sarcastic smile. Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at your book, hoping the bell would ring soon.
Al had this really good way of putting you in a bad mood.
Basically, he existed.
Now, you weren’t saying you wished he was dead or anything, you just… Really, really disliked him, that was all.
You could even remember one particular time when he made you so angry you nearly ruined your reputation.
You sat in the student council room, long after the meeting had finished. You couldn’t believe the other members hadn’t bothered to clean up the place at all after the small party you’d had. You sighed, exhausted from cleaning so much for so long.
“Hey there, doll face. I thought student council ended like… I dunno, a couple hours ago?”
You turned around, a scowl glued to your face. “Yes, and I thought detention did as well, isn’t that right, Alfred?” Turning back around in your chair, you opened your book and began reading. This conversation wouldn’t be over anytime soon.
You heard him growl behind you at the use of him full name. “There is only one person-”
“Who can call you that. Arthur, your little buddy who enjoys baking ‘special’ cupcakes and visits to the psychiatrist. He prefers to go by ‘Artie’ though, doesn’t he?” You scoffed, “Suits him well enough.”
He sighed, clearly agitated. “Listen, I won’t kill you for calling me that this time, but next time-”
“Is what you said last time,” You said.
You heard him stomp over, and he spun your chair around. “Listen here, student council president.”
“My, (full name) don’t tell me you’ve gotten into a fight!”
You looked over Al’s shoulder, a blush rising to your cheeks. “I- uh-”
Al smirked. “Yeah, Ms. Teacher, she was. She provoked me, even. The girl should’ve known better.”
The teacher sighed. “Mr. Jones, I’d expect this from you, but (y/n), honestly?”
You shook your head. You couldn’t seem to get your mouth to develop the words you needed to say to defend yourself.
“(y/n), Mr. Jones, if you’d please follow me to the Principal’s Office.”
After nearly an hour of clarifying, pleading, and thanking, you made it out of the office without a scratch.
Al had a month of detentions though, which were probably more so make-ups than actual punishment for what he did.
As the bell rang, you sat back in your seat, stretching, then put your book away. You stood out of your chair, grabbing your bag and putting your things in it, muttering to yourself about that night’s homework.
“Looks like Ms. (y/n) is in need of a partner for her project, Alfred.” You distinctly knew the overly-happy, almost crazy-sounding British accent that belonged to Artie, and turned your head to face the two boys.
“I do believe she is,” Al said, smirking, “What do you say, (y/n)? You and me, the project?”
You sighed. “Actually, I’d say ‘you and I’,” you said, “but, I guess I don’t have a choice.”
As you walked out of the classroom, he put an arm around your shoulder. You tried to move away from him, but he was not going to let that happen. “Of course the good little student council president would try to help little Al out with his project,” he laughed, poking your cheek.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m working with because I have to. Not because I want to.”
“Sure, sweetheart, say whatever you want to cover up your little crush on me.”
“Excuse me?!” You stopped, a blush covering your cheeks. “A crush, on you? You’re disgusting, and revolting, and, and--”
“Irresistible, little lady,” He said, pulling you along.
“That most certainly is not the word I was looking for.”
“Sure, sure.” He said, waving his hand in the air as if to shoo your words away.
As you could have predicted, you got no help on the project.
You stood up after the bell rang at the end of History, and Al approached you. “How’s our project going?” He said with a smirk, and you scoffed.
“Actually, it’s done. No thanks to you.”
He smiled. “Then let’s skip class tomorrow, what do you say?”
You were shocked. “Skip class?! Are you crazy? I am student council president, have straight A’s, don’t have a single tardy, have perfect attendance, never had a detention, all the students look up to me, every single teacher likes me and you expect me to skip class?”
He laughed. “Whoa, calm down. It’s just one day. Not like you’ll die, (y/n).”
“Mentally, I might.” You sighed.
He rolled his eyes. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you out of the classroom. “Turn your alarm off. Sleep in. I’ll be at your place by one, alright? You aren’t coming to school tomorrow.”
He stopped, making you run into him. He grabbed both of your arms, gripping them a little hard, but not enough to hurt. “No. Buts.”
“Um, alright…” You said, trying to pull your face away from his.
He let go, stepped back, and nodded. “’Kay then. Seeya tomorrow then, doll face.”
You couldn’t believe you were going through with this.
You couldn’t lie… So far, the day was going great.
Al bought you ice cream, took you shopping (where you stopped him from stealing numerous things), tough the stupid pranks throughout the day didn’t quite thrill you, you were still having a great time, as much as you hated to admit it.
“So, (y/n), when’s the truth comin’ out?” Al asked, sitting across from you at the table of a café.
“What?” You asked, confused.
He leaned in, a bit too close for comfort. “You know… That you’re in love with me.”
You groaned, sitting back in your chair.
He laughed. “Wouldn’t it be hilarious? The baddest boy in school dating the most uptight girl in school? Though, I don’t think you’d be too uptight after bein’ with me for awhile… I mean, hey, I already got you to skip.”
“You would date me just for a laugh?” You asked.
“Nothing,” You said, staring at the ground.
“Honestly, Ms. (Last name), this… This is simply inexcusable. Skipping school with Alfred Jones, of all students.” You thought you might cry when you got your first ever detention slip.
“Hey!” Al said, approaching you in the hall, “Whoa, what’s with the face?”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Are you mad just about the detention? (y/n), calm down, you’ll live, trust me-”
“Just leave me alone!”
You stalked down the hallway, back to your locker to retrieve your things and get home.
You sat in the detention room, bouncing your knee, hoping it would end soon.
The door opened, someone walked in, threw their things down next to the desk nearest yours, and plopped into the desk with a sigh.
“Hey,” Al said.
You glanced him. “Hey,” your voice wasn’t much more than a whisper.
He sighed. “I know why you’re so mad. ‘Cuz I said it’d be funny if we dated. Listen, I’m not a hallmark card so I’ll just put it like this. I didn’t mean I wanted to date you ‘cuz it’d be funny.”
You looked over at him. “I knew you weren’t stupid,” You muttered.
He chuckled. “Haha, Nope, but you sure are,” he approached your desk, slamming a hand down in front of you.
“Uh,” you stammered, blushing.
“Say, you, me, Saturday, maybe?”
You smiled a little. “I…”
“You…” Al said, awaiting an answer.
“I think that sounds like a plan.”
He smiled. “’Bout time you loosened up.”
You scoffed. “Sit back down in your seat. If you’re in detention with me, you are not skipping.”
You said those words confidently, though… He knew you just didn’t want him to leave you there all by yourself.
After all, you’d even said it, he wasn’t stupid.