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When I got back in the early dark of this morning, apartment looked pretty much as I left it.   Door still locked, fire escape window still open for the Cat, and Amelia’s card still where I’d dropped it.   The Cat itself was under the couch, and raked my ankle with razor-claws as I walked past – a combination ‘welcome home’ and ‘you deserted me for a fortnight, you fucker’.   Fair call.   I pondered staying to face Cat-wrath for the day, and school was literally the less painful option.   Texted Harmony who called me a festering pile of shit for waking her, but met me at the corner cafe for breakfast before school anyway.

“So what’s news, Harm?”

She grimaced, and put out the eyeball yolk of her fried eggs with the point of her fork.

“Survived Thanksgiving with the fam without attacking my sister with a carving knife – she looks about ready to pop as it is.   Just gotta make it through Christmas now… Um.   Brix is apparently awake, but fucking out of it – seriously doped up on pain-killers.   He’s been moved to his own hospital room, and a couple of kids have been in to see him, but he could only talk rambling shit, they said.   Oh – two seniors had a total brawl in the fucking library last week – took down a whole bookshelf plus contents, and had the librarian actually squealing like a pig.   It was brilliant.   Yeah – and I’m single again.   There’s a new history teacher everyone is fucking swooning over, and my insignificant other got herself a fucked-up crush, and I said if he was so hot, she’d better go screw him or herself – whoever came first…”

Compared Harmony mentally to my latest female acquaintance, and remembered why we were friends.   Settled for complimenting her on her new bronze-coloured jacket as we crossed the road (our feet passing over that immortal place where Brix had his vehicular adventure), and then wandered to class.   History up first – check out the deal with this new teacher.

He came in, and I looked down, and didn’t look his way again.   He taught, the class went through the motions of learning (civil war politics – fuck).   And I wondered what happens now.   And I wondered, until the period ended and the teacher asked – as I’d been away – for me to stay behind a moment.

He came around and sat on his desk, hooking his leg over the corner of it.

“You, young man, should pay more fucking attention in class.”

I crossed my arms contemptuously, leaned against the front student desk and rolled my eyes.

“Time for a career change, was it?   Or not, really?   Guess you can just go on being a pretentious prick, eh?”

Py grinned.

“You’d better believe it, Johnny boy.”

 

NEXT ENTRY…

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4 Comments

  1. I love you, I hate you, I love you, I hate you..

  2. Py… Wow, didn’t expect him to turn up in school. That ought to be interesting.

  3. :O WHAT!? Don;t leave me hanging J.. Geez

  4. As soon as the teacher said “fucking” I knew it was Py..and nope, don’t want to meet him ty.


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