A Unique and Torn Romance

I walk on to school property. Another day of torture ahead. The joy never stops, does it?
I glare up at the entrance and see Bob and his crew of brainless, mass-produced stereotypes with their black and red jock jackets on. I love my school colors, but on those jackets it makes me wanna puke – all over them.

Bob sees me and immediately sends me a death glare. I return it – trying to overpower his glare with mine, but it seems to be a tie.

My eyes roll out into the corners of my eyes as I walk past Bob. I refuse to turn my head to continue my glare, so my eyes hurt like hell when they snap back and I look ahead of me.

The first thing I see is Frank waving at me – his phone pressed to the side of his dark-green face. I barely get to talk to my brother anymore. Every time I call, I get the busy tone. I guess I don’t need to explain to anyone why.
My locker is next to Frank’s, so I get to overhear a very interesting conversation about toilet paper preferences while I get my books.

Frank keeps chatting on the phone all the way to class and even after the teacher has entered the room, he still won’t stop talking about toilet paper and sore butts.

“Mr. Iero!” the teacher bellows. I don’t need to look at Frank to know that he’s glaring daggers at the teacher.

“Chocula, I gotta go. Love you.” I hear a click, which means he’s shut his phone. I’m surprised he didn’t call the teacher a bitch or an asshole, before he said ‘love you’. I’m so sick of hearing Frank talk to Gerard like that. I’m so sick of hearing their lovey-dovey-sweet love. It’s nauseating. Love is nauseating.
I don’t even care which curse fits this specific teacher. I don’t even care to look. I don’t even care to listen. I just seethe quietly in my seat.