Miss ***

Chapter two <Miss Miss what do you pleasure?>

The days where the rain rolls down the window in a sluggish race to the bottom are the days to stay in bed and not get out if the boogie man himself accosts you. Today was one of those days.

“If you have a side-angle-side given on the triangle then…” my trigonometry teacher rambled in a voice that seemed to come in and out of focus more than an old radio.hmm, I thought, I wonder where my old radio went…

My memories were cut off abruptly by two shrill chimes of the annoying horn on top of our school which announced the end of classes for the day. Being a hidden genius, I had thought to sit in the seat closest to the door for the very reason that I could then be the first person out of it and therefore get to my locker faster and on my way home. Groundbreaking, I know.

“Murder!” a voice like a terrier’s bark echoed off the corner in front of me and with a sigh I turned to face our assistant principal.

“yes, Mrs. Hoffmire?” I attempted civility though she hardly deserved it.

With a look that obviously thought I was up to something she motioned for me to fallow behind her. of course, I mentally rolled my eyes, no, no! really, let me just drop everything I’m doing to fallow you around like a pathetic duckling.

Eventually we made it to the principal’s office and I was escorted to a faux-leather chair that must have molded to the shape of my ass by now from all the times I’ve sat in it these past few years. I sighed, I had hoped that my last time in here a few days ago would be my last. Obviously not.

“I hope that this is the last time I see you in my office Miss Miss.” Said our pig-headed principal who refused to call me Murder, my legal last name, and so rested on just repeating my first name like an idiot.

“I sincerely hope that I don’t even have to be in here right now, Sir Sir: if you could kindly explain the nature of my appearance?”

He paused for a second, as it debating the best route to continue on.

“We went through your locker Miss-,” here he seemed to struggle for a moment before letting the name go, “and inside it we found several, ahem, inappropriate magazines.” he fixed me an accusatory glare.

“did you enjoy them?” hey, it was the first thing that came to mind, how would you reply if you just found out your principal nabbed some Playgirls from your locker?

I think he must have broken a record for turning into a blueberry the fastest, and, simultaneously, letting out the most pig-like sounds in under a minute.

Finally he garbled out a semi-audible “why you little-“ and stood up from his desk. “I want you out of this room right now and out of this school by the end of the period- AM I UNDER STOOD MISS MISS?” I was perfectly happy to comply with the a fore mentioned orders, except I was laughing too hard from the sight of my short, balding, principal, the color of a ripe plum yelling “Miss Miss!” at the top of his smoker voice, to get out of the chair properly and had to be content with falling to the floor in mirth.

“OUT!” he raged and started around the desk at me, at which point I stumbled out the door, wheezing, and almost collapsed again when the door slammed behind me. All the office ladies stopped their incessant pattering away at their keyboards to watch me before looking down their noses at me, and turning away back to whatever porn site they were surfing.

What a way to end my Arcata High career, I thought while emptying my locker and all its contents into the nearest trash can. And yes, I did just rip my locker off the wall- hey? What are screwdrivers for but taking down lockers?

Skipping down the main corridor to the school I decided that a little more love was needed in this school so I took it upon myself to start singing Bob Marley’s Three little Birds at the top of my lungs to the masses still stuck in their unfortunate, and uncomfortable, desks. I just hope they remember me when they are not rich and not famous. Bitches.