Swaggglance

Im just a girl. A girl who is hopelessly in love with him. Him = Omg. Him = Handsome, Gorgeous, Sexy. Him = Tom Main. Every girl in the whole of Langlehill House is in love with him.
Can Charlie and Elli manage to find a date for the Christmas Dance? And even if they do, can Charlie keep out of trouble to even get to the dance?

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1. Him

I look across at him, his tanned skin, his floppy hair brushed over his eyes. He wears his school uniform cool, his tie is short and loose, not the swat-not style. He doesn't wear a blazer. His sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and casual, the top 2 buttons undone. He doesn't tie up his leather shoes properly; he doesn't even wear leather shoes. They’re the converse type from the teenage trend shop down the road called Swaggglance. His wrists are covered with several bands of several colours. They are only some of the things that make him irresistible. And they are only some of the reasons why nearly all the girls in the class think he is handsome and would give anything to go out with him. And, you guessed it, that includes me.

I only wish it wasn't me at 3:27pm on Friday 26th October.

                “Miss Fletcher? Are you with us today? Or are we staring off into space as usual? Hmmm. Now if you want to free yourself of an hour long detention, tell me the answer to the question I asked a minute ago.” Mrs Redding questioned with stone hard expression on her wrinkled face.

                Mrs Redding is the worst ever teacher in Gilsburugh High School. Probably, Mrs Redding is the worst ever teacher in the United Kingdom. She gives out tonnes of homework and even more detentions. She is old and frail, strict and harsh, unfashionable and strange. And of course, you almost fall asleep in her classes. As I had just demonstrated to the whole of Year 7, who were in Langlehill House. I search around for anyone to give me clues as to what she just said. No-one even lets out a whisper, not even my best friend Elli. However I know they wouldn’t dare say a word to help me out, as that would result in a detention I am just about to get. I brace myself for the worst and look up to Mrs Redding and say. “I don’t know Mrs Redding. I’m sorry.” I look up at her face and I see she is so happy with herself, with giving at least one pupil a detention, her face breaks into a smirk.

                “I see then. You weren’t listening, were you? I wonder if anybody could help her out. What are 2 factors of 48? Yes, Hannah.” Mrs Redding looks over to her star pupil, Hannah.

                “Two factors of forty eight are 6 and 8. There are also 2 and 24, 3 and 16, 4 and 12, and as I said there is 6 and 8.” I knew Hannah couldn’t resist the moment to show how brainy she was. She looked over to me and mouthed ‘sorry’. I sighed to myself. It wasn’t her fault she excelled in all subjects and was the star pupil for all classes. It was my fault that I can’t be bothered to concentrate in the work, even though I have the ability to understand the work; however I am more interested in boys.

                Mrs Redding gave Hannah a merit and then walked over to my desk I was sharing with Elli. I’m not one of those ‘take no notice’ kinds of girls. But when it comes to being told off, I don’t really listen, the words are just a murmur that I kind of pay attention to but then drift off into my own world. “See Miss Charlotte Fletcher, somebody pays attention in my classes. Now you should all follow Hannah Blade’s lead and work your hardest. It may be the last day of term. It may be the last 15 minutes of half term. But that is no excuse to be daydreaming and talking when you should be working your hardest. And if you don’t, you will pay for the consequences. Like Charlotte is. I will see you in H13 at precisely 3:40pm after this lesson. In fact, Miss Fletcher you can walk with me up to the House and can stand and everyone can see you walking with me. How does that seem?” Mrs Redding was first talking to me then talked to the whole class. Then she became so proud she made the punishment even worse.

                “What! That’s way not fair!” I exclaim.

                The teacher stops in her tracks and turns back around. She bends down so close I can smell the revolting smell of her breath. “That’s not fair? Is it? Hmm. Well maybe you should have thought about that before you wandered off into your own world. Actually, for having the cheek to say that, let’s make it an hour and a half, shall we? Yes.”

                I am so angry with the teacher as she strides back up to her wooden, vintage desk. I turn to Elli, “One and a half hours is way, way, way over the top. She is the worst maths teacher ever, so there is no excuse for me being bored in her stupid lesson. Oh, and I’ve got a lesson for her, brush your teeth you ancient old granny!” With all my anger and frustration I never realized how loud I was talking.

                “Let’s make it two hours sat with me shall we. I will not be humiliated in front of a group of eleven and twelve year olds. It is inappropriate for you to insult me with those harsh words Miss Fletcher. It is absolutely absurd!” her temper was rising as high as space and as fast as a Formula 1 racing car.

                I shrink down a little in my seat as I see all of Langlehill who are in year 7 turn and look at me. A sudden snigger comes from behind me. And that’s it. “I am fed up of all of you. Who was that? Was it you Smithy? Or was it you Tomlinson? Come on, tell me. Which one of was it?” Mrs Redding was bright red in the face now, you could almost see the steam that was coming out of her ears.

                Mick Tomlinson slowly raises his hand. “It was me Miss.” You can hear his voice shaking as he admits that it was he who laughed at my decade long detention.

                “It will be one hour of detention for you then Mr Tomlinson. So what is that then? Half an hour for Mr Robinson for throwing a pencil across at Hannah. Two hours for Miss Fletcher dozing off in the middle of my lesson. And finally one hour for Mr Tomlinson. Three hours and a half worth of detention given out in one lesson. You should pay attention like Hannah Blade here,” Mrs Redding points over to Hannah sat proudly at the front of the class. The bell then suddenly rings signalling end of class. “Charlotte, Mick and Stanley you follow me to H13 for your detention. And to the rest of you, stay safe in the holidays. Next half term, I want everyone working their socks off. Anyway, class dismissed.” She briskly strolled out of the classroom with Mick, Stanley and I following her.

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