4
Next day, school was the same old circus, minus the detention drill. The guy sat next to me, Mr. Snark himself, threw me that look, "Thought you were checking out, huh? Off to the great beyond? Yet here you are. Weaklings like you don't cut it here."
Cue to math class, and the dude's goofing off, rips his worksheet. Then, has the nerve to cop mine.
I caught his grubby paw mid-reach and shot him the death stare, "The hell you doing?"
Guy looked like he saw a ghost for a hot sec. Guess he's used to me rolling over.
"What... you ain't gonna nail it anyway, hand it over."
"Who says I can't?"
His face was a picture, then he burst out laughing, nudging the chick he'd been horsing around with, "Yo, Vicky, check it - she thinks she's a math whiz, hilarious!"
Short-hair Vicky tossed me a look, "Then prove it, genius."
She's the brainy one, aced it while I tanked yesterday.
I snorted to myself, propped up my chin, and got cracking. Meanwhile, Mr. Annoying's all, "Alright, Sydney, let's shoot for one right answer, just for kicks."
The worksheet was a joke. Nailed it in ten.
I was flipping through the textbook, bored out of my mind, could recite this crap in my sleep.
Next thing, my worksheet's gone. Snatched.
"Teach, Sydney's all done, grade her masterpiece, will ya?" Stick-boy's grinning ear to ear, parading my paper to the front like he's won the lottery.
I'm like, "Got beef, dude?"
All smiles, I ask, keeping it chill.
"Nah, just can't stand your face, is all!"
His eyes are bugging out, brows sky-high, greasy little weasel.
So, I stroll up to the teacher.
He's flipping between my worksheet and me like he's watching tennis.
Finally, he's like, "Sydney, you can't just cheat your way through. Sure, you got it now, but the exams? If I catch you again, I'm ringing up your mom."
Talk about a bad joke.
I snatch my paper back, and here comes the peanut gallery. I'm trying to be the bigger person.
But he won't quit, "Bombed it, didn't ya? Knew it. Should've passed it here, save some trees, you're hopeless lol."
Forget my bum leg, I kicked his chair out from under him.
That chair screamed all the way down.
Every head in the room snapped our way, eyes bugging out.
"Sydney, you're toast!" He's livid, swings at me, but that chair's got him on the floor, eating dust.I ripped through his math homework like a savage, shredding it piece by piece.
"Ugh, you're such a troll," I spat, my foot crushing the chair's leg for emphasis.
"Look at this trash. I could ace these problems in my sleep, unlike you, you're the real..." I leaned in, all faux sweetness, "hot mess, dumpster fire."
Then, bam! His workbook met his face like a paper storm. The classroom went dead silent, like someone hit the mute button, until the teacher snapped, yanking me back with a near-scream.
"Sydney! You've crossed the line! Principal's office, now. Time for some serious self-reflection!"
