Work Text:
Samantha’s POV
Well, this day’s already going to shit, and it’s only 9 AM! my mother made the wrong breakfast, so I haven’t had a single crumb today—it’s so damn embarrassing when your stomach growls during that one quiet moment. Ugh. And after that, the bus was late! Can you even believe it? How hard is it to be at the fucking bus stop on time? Jesus Christ. Anyway, I still made it to class on time. And that brings us to now! Sitting in Mrs. Smith’s social studies class. I’m not really listening to her droning voice, instead, I’m talking to my friend Marceline—Marcy for short.
“…and, like, I can’t believe she did that! what a bitch…” she says. I’m not really listening.
“yeah, what a bitch,” I say absentmindedly. She doesn’t notice my inattentiveness and keeps up her incessant yapping. I sigh, and rest my head on my hand, doing my best to nod along to Marcy’s stupid story about whatever friend wronged her this time. I cross my legs, adjusting my posture, when I hear Mrs. Smith call both my and Marcy’s name.
“Helloooo?” She says mockingly, snapping her fingers. “Are you two talking over me while I’m teaching?”
Both of our eyes snap over to her. I see Marcy’s face heat up quickly—she gets red all the damn time. “Well, it seems you will have to lose the privilege of choosing your partners.”
“partners?” I ask, making a face that has a mix of disgust and confusion. I don’t like working with other people—except Marcy, she gets the job done quick and easy. Plus she’s the only decent person in this class.
Mrs. Smith sighs and stares at me, with a look that says are we deadass? or as she would say it, are we being serious right now?
“Yes. Partners. For the project?”
“Mm. Yes. The project,” I say, nodding my head and trying not to seem too sarcastic.
“Well, since Jayden won’t have a partner anyways, you can go with her,” Mrs Smith scoffs, “and Marcy, you can work with Tyler.”
I glance over at Jayden—the quiet one. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say anything, always hiding behind the dark sheet of brown hair. She doesn’t really seem to care, barely looking up from her book. And Marcy, the lucky bastard, gets paired with Tyler! Her crush! She won’t shut up about him for one second—practically all her insta stories have some hint of him in them. Ew. Marcy hides her smile behind her hand, but once the teacher has her back turned she gives me a look. Tyler looks completely and totally uncaring.
Once the teacher instructs us to “scurry and get with our partners” (ugh, cringe) the class of high schoolers stands and meander around. Some of the students are walking around, procrastinating on anything they can, including picking a goddamn partner. and the others aren’t much better, actually going to their partners. Jayden is just standing there, waiting for me to make the first move, apparently.
I huff dramatically, standing up and smoothing my jean skirt before I head over to her.
“Hey,” she says simply.
“Hi,” I say, smiling in a way that I know full well is not genuine nor kind.
“What country do you wanna research?” She asks, seeming close to the level of indifference of Tyler.
“What?” I say confusedly, furrowing my brows.
“The project. We have to pick a country and study it. Shit, you really weren’t listening, huh?”
A tiny smirk quirks the corner of her lip, and I scowl.
“The fuck are you smiling for?”
She wipes the amusement off her face, and gives me what could be a glare if she was more rested.
“Just funny that Ms. Perfect has no idea what’s going on,” that smug bastard shrugs. God, fuck her.
I take a deep breath, and keep up my sarcastic smile.
“Well, I think we should do the project on Bangladesh.” I try changing the subject to throw her off.
“I think we should do Poland instead. Easier to do the bit on ‘famous people from the country’,” she casually adds to the conversation, not being stunned at all by the quick change.
This girl is gonna a hell of a fucking hard time.