Don't Change


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1. Late... Again

I strolled into form five minutes late, looking like a bomb had hit me, and hopefully my house with all my family inside as well. I know that sounds harsh, but all they had done was bother me, coming round with cards and flowers, like I'd just rose from the dead; trying to be tactful with what they said, when the best thing for me was to just face what had happened, and get over it; telling me to rest and get some sleep, when it was the only thing I'd been doing for the last three weeks. So after a week of being house bound, and bothered by various family members, school was almost a lucky break.

Mrs Hurley looked up from her laptop, scowling at something... or someone, as I later found out.

"What do you think you're doing, waltzing into my lesson late?" she bellowed, thumping her fist down on the table, causing a miniature earthquake with pens, pencils, and textbooks.

"Could you cut me a bit of slack, I mean, I've been through what you might call... an ordeal?" I muttered, walking to my seat, dragging my school bag behind me.

"Put your blazer on now," she demanded, tottering over to me in her too high heels, whilst the rest of the class watched the scene unfolding.

"I don't have it," I sighed, sitting down, and throwing my planner onto the table. I knew that answering back would wind her up, but I didn't see why she had the right to have a go at me, when the explanation for everything was perfectly reasonable. "Try being beaten up, and thrown into the boot of a car, when you're walking home from school," I shouted, finding my "inner rebel". "It isn't what you'd call fantastic, and you tend to stop worrying about shit, like your blazer, and turning up to school at the right time when you get back." I knew swearing at a teacher wasn't the greatest idea either, and that point was proven, as I found myself slumped against the wall outside Mr Fawner's office, awaiting a phone call home, and possibly a detention with him. What did I say about school being a lucky break?

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