Vampire Academy

Gerard’s P.O.V.

Ms. Willits was a vicious bitch of an English teacher. She spoke in vivid sugary sweet tones which were quite contradictory to the nasty look she had plastered to her plump, unsightly face. This was a sad, sad sight to have to look at for forty-five minutes. Just her voice alone seemed to make the clock tick at an alarmingly slow pace the minute she opened her mouth. However, this English period, for one reason or another, seemed to be the longest I had ever endured.

I was leaned forward in my chair, my hands gripping the front of my desk so hard that its edge was cutting into my palms. Tick. Tick. Tick. That fucking clock. It just kept ticking and ticking but it wasn’t moving anywhere. I was in a horrible dilemma now. I couldn’t look at the clock, it was making me nauseous. However, there was no way in hell I could pay attention to Ms. Willits, she was making me homicidal. I’d rather have been nauseous than homicidal.“Thomas, you and Matthew need to pay attention. This will be on your quiz, as well as your finals. I don’t want to have to fail you.” Tom and Matt, who had previously been playing paper football from across the room, sat up straight and did what the teacher said. Though we all knew this respect wouldn’t last long. Sure enough as soon as she started speaking again, if you could call what she did “speaking”, the abnormally large headed jocks were right back at it. I shook my head and watched the clock desperately, pleading with wild abandon for the end of class. After a couple of minutes I saw that a few kids were staring at me and others were shooting me annoyed looks. I slowly realized that I was grinding my teeth. “Gerard.” Ms. Willits barked, her darling old lady tone gone and replaced with an angry, aggravated nature. “Pay attention. Now.” I wanted to argue with her, tell her what a bitch she was, and ask her why my staring at the clock and barely grinding my teeth was more annoying than the two imbeciles playing paper football across the room. But I digressed.

The bell finally rang, after forty-five minutes of torment and pure agony. Her voice was still ringing in my ears and I felt like I had a rock in my stomach, but I was just glad I hadn’t gone off and stabbed the guy next to me. It was time for lunch, thank the lord. Of course, anyone could tell that just by the amount of kids crowding the halls clutching their lunches, if they didn’t get it by watching them act like ravenous animals first. It was a long, long trek to the cafeteria from Ms. Willits’s classroom, or at least it seemed that way. I tried to hurry down to the cafeteria, dodging a fight along the way between a “Goth” kid and a girly freshman, when I felt my sweater snag on someone’s locker and I was thrown backwards. I guess I hadn’t known exactly how fast I’d been traveling. I dropped my stuff on my way to the floor. To my greatest relief, my books didn’t fly in different directions like I’d expected them to. They were just a little scattered in front of me. I stood up and pulled my sweater from the locker, rather I tried to but it was stuck. I pulled again with no luck, so I tore it away from the locker leaving a medium sized hole in the sweater I’d had for years now. Of course, this hole wasn’t really noticeable. Though the sweater had faded it was still solid black and I had a solid black long-sleeved t-shirt on underneath so you couldn’t see the hole at all. Or at least I couldn’t, which was good enough for me. I gathered my things and put them back in the order they were, my brown lunch bag on top of my Catcher in the Rye book, my English textbook, and my History binder. I turned around and almost dropped my stuff again. Fire burned in my veins like it never had before. I stood there and stared as my little brother just sort of looked at me and then turned away, ignoring me, pretending that I didn’t exist. I had to fight the urge to run over shove him into his stupid ass crowd of friends. The little bastard. I took a deep breath and walked by him with an indifferent air, showing him that I didn’t give a damn about him. I never needed him before, I sure as hell didn’t need him then.

Mikey’s P.O.V.

I had been meeting the guys near the lunch room every day since the start of school. They were always fun to hang out with. We’d look at girls consistently. The girls in high school were just so much more…grown up. Though, I really didn’t like it when they started to rate girls, I guess my mother’d always hammered into me and Gerard to respect women and whatnot, but I just pushed these personal feelings aside and joined right in.

“Ooh, perfect ten.” Matt said, grinning slyly as a girl with blonde highlights and big boobs walked by us chatting happily with a couple of her friends. And I had to agree that She was really, really, really hot.

“That Rachel girl,” Ray said, referring to the blonde girl’s brown haired friend, green eyed friend, “She’s pretty hot too.”

“Yeah, I’d give her a…seven.” I decided, my hand wavering in the air.

“No, Mikes, I’d at least give her an eight.” Ray said, frowning. I laughed.

“Well, why don’t you go ask her out then if you think she’s so hot?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“That’s not what I…” Ray stopped. I saw a black blur in the corner of my eye as someone fell against the lockers across from us. At least fifteen people were staring as none other than my older brother stood up and tried to pull his sweater that had snagged on someone’s locker. Dave and Matt were laughing their asses off, Ray was holding back a laugh, and I was just horrified. Finally he got it off of the locker with a satisfying rrrip. Ray shook his head, his face starting to turn purple, and turned his back to Gerard and started laughing with the other guys. Everyone shook their heads and continued on with their conversations as Gerard bent over and grabbed his stuff hurriedly, switching a couple things as though he was putting them in order from largest to smallest. He was so embarrassing; I couldn’t believe that we were even related. He turned toward me and stopped dead. He stared at me, drilling holes in me with his eyes, his brow furrowed. I quickly turned away, in hope that he wouldn’t come over and talk to me.

“Well, that was pretty funny…ooh, you know, that Goth girl’s kind of hot…” Matt said, as a Goth girl with scratches and a triumphant look on her face walked down the hallway with a few of her friends. We all made faces and stared at him. “Oh, wait, never mind. Another ten is walking by!” He gestured to Janie Busby who was in my year.

“Man, what the hell happened to her?” Ray asked, stifling laughter yet again. Janie had a black eye and scratches much like the Goth girl had had.

“I dunno,” I said, cocking an eyebrow and laughing, not even thinking about how rude it was, “It looks like she got beat up!”