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218 Words
The class has the usual quiet chuckle that spreads from across the room.
"Yeah, let's hear what you had to say to your girlfriend." I hear someone say near me, most likely a guy. If it's not a guy it has to be an extremely manly girl. It's said so quietly so that only Agastya and I could hear. No, I'm not his girlfriend; he doesn't even like anybody. He never has and probably never will.
He'll be the first old, single, cat man. Except attractive in a way.
"Uh, no, Mr. E. I was just asking a question." He angles his face to where I'm unable to see his expression. It's not like he's embarrassed or anything. He's Agastya; embarrassed probably isn't even a word in Agastya Alvin's Dictionary Est. 2012.
When class ends, I gather my stuff, taking my time since my next class is history and it's literally a six second walk from here. I could peek my head from outside this door and spit and it'd reach the teacher. Just saying.
I glance out of the window of the room that has a pretty good view of the parking lot. Hawkin kids; just look at these cars. You can tell they didn't buy them with their own money. Stealing is the new trend here.
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