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Senior Year Might not Totally Suck

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-Hey man.

 

Hey Bev.

 

-You excited?

 

No.

 

-Come on. Senior year. One year left.

 

I’m taking like, all honors classes. I’m so fucked

 

-In every orifice?

 

Jesus Bev that’s disgusting.

 

-I’m taking 3 Ap’s, so we can get fucked together. It’ll be a bonding experience.

 

“get fucked together”???

 

-Yeah, like a gang bang.

 

ew.

 

-You’re alright, though?

 

Yeah, just got the jitters I guess

 

-We should probably get to sleep. It’s late.

 

well excuse me you’re the one who texted me first.

 

-Good night, loser.

 

Night, bev

 

 

Brian sinks into an empty seat at 8:02 AM. He hasn’t had nearly enough coffee to function. With a sigh, he zips his backpack open and grabs a pen and paper.

 

“You are late.” An accented voice from the front of the room pierces through Brian’s sleep-deprived haze. 

 

“Sorry, mister, uh…” Brian consults his schedule. “Lecter.”

 

“Doctor Lecter,” the man corrects.

 

Shit. “Doctor Lecter.”

 

Brian tries to focus his sleepy eyes to inspect this teacher. Dr. Lecter is wearing a dress shirt, waistcoat and tie. Brian concludes that Dr. Lecter is an enormous douche. 

 

Brian looks around the room. There are only ten or so other kids in his honors psychology class. Brian recognizes most of them, since he’s been in the honors program since sophomore year. However, one face sticks out like a sore thumb.

 

This boy’s hair is an unkept mess and his glasses swallow his face. There’s stubble dusting his jawline, but thankfully it doesn’t look gross. One of those assholes that can pull off stubble. (Brian happened to be one of those assholes.) However, the boy wears a horrendous plaid shirt that has blond animal hair flecked all over it. Basically, this kid looks like shit.

 

“I will now call roll,” Dr. Lecter announces, breaking Brian’s train of thought. “Please let me know if you go by a different name than is listed.”

 

Brian sighs. Being cursed with a last name that begins with Z, he is used to being at the ass end of attendance lists.

 

“Alana Bloom.”

 

“Here.”

 

“Matthew Brown.”

 

“Here.”

 

“William Graham.”

 

“Here. Uh, I go by Will.” The new kid fidgets in his seat.

 

“Alright, Will,” Dr. Lecter replies.

 

The list goes on until finally Brian’s name is called.

 

“Brian Zeller.”

 

“Here.”

 

The class is actually interesting. Dr. Lecter may be an enormous douche, but he turns out to be a good teacher. 

 

“Good afternoon, class,” the teacher says. “I’m Mr. Price. To start off, we’re gonna do attendance.” 

 

Mr. Price is wearing a white dress shirt with a blue tie. His hair is graying and his stomach sticks out a little, but he’s cute. 

 

Shit, he’s cute.

 

“Now, I like to mix things up a little. I take attendance in reverse. I was graced with being near the end of roll call my entire academic career, and I’d like for my fellow latter alphabet folks to get a reprieve.”

 

Brian loves this guy already.

 

“Brian Zeller.”

 

“Here,” Brian grins.

 

Maybe senior year won’t be so bad after all.