Art & Soul - Page 9/77

I bobbed my head once before I started kicking around an invisible rock with my left foot. His blue Chucks started mimicking the movement. We kicked invisible rocks together until the school bus pulled up.

Simon was the first to get on the bus, but not before stepping on and off four times before he slid into the front seat. I stepped backward to let Deer Boy onto the bus before me.

He gestured toward the yellow caged vehicle. “Ladies first.”

“Thanks,” I replied, stepping onto the bus.

A small laugh was heard as he followed behind me. “So she does speak.”

4 Levi

My first class of the day was calculus with Mr. Jones. If I had to pick my worst skill, it would be any math class. Being homeschooled, I pretty much avoided the math sections until the very end of the day. But now, with a premade schedule, I was forced to face it first thing in the morning. It was a special kind of hell.

Mr. Jones stood outside of his classroom, greeting everyone.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice warned me. I’d been about to place my books on a desk in the front row. Turning behind me, I saw a guy with spiky hair, a gold chain around his neck, and something that looked like a wannabe mustache. “Mr. Jones is the Sylvester the Cat of Mayfair Heights.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know.” He rasped up his voice and added a lisp with a ton of spitting. “Sufferin Succotash! He’s more into spraying it than saying it.” He patted the seat next to him in the back row. “You’re free to join me back here.”

I accepted the offer.

“You’re the fresh meat that every chick’s been gawking at, eh?” he asked.

“Nah, I think you got the wrong guy. No one has said one word to me yet.” Except for the girl at the bus stop who said thanks, but even that was like pulling teeth.

“Which is exactly why you are the fresh meat. They are studying their prey before they attack. And with that accent?” He whistled low. “Man. You’re going to get girls pregnant just by looking at them. Toss in a wink and they’ll have twins. Which is why you’re going to need me,” he said, patting my back. “The name’s Connor Lincoln, and I am your saving grace, my friend.”

“Is that so?” I said, pulling out a pencil and notebook from my backpack, even though I wasn’t going to take notes.

“Yes. You see, I am the eyes, the ears, and the voice of the student body. I know everything about everyone who matters, and I can help keep you out of harm’s way.”

“Well, isn’t that nice of you.”

“What can I say? I’m a humanitarian.” He held his hand out toward me for a shake. “You got a name?”

“Levi.”

“Where are ya from, Levi?”

“Alabama.”

“All right, all right, all right,” he said with a southern accent—or more of a Matthew McConaughey accent, which was in a league of its own. “You will forever be known as Alabama.”

Seeing as how Connor had saved me from the spitting teacher, I guessed he could call me Alabama.

The girl from the bus stop walked into the classroom and sat two rows in front of me, her head down the whole time. Half of her auburn hair was shaven, and the other half, dark red. She looked different than most of the Barbie girls in the hallways. Darker. Edgier. Beautiful. She reached into her backpack, pulled out a notebook, and started writing in it. She kept sweeping her bangs behind her ear, but never looked up from whatever she was doing in her notebook.

“What about her?” I asked Connor. “Who’s that?”

Connor’s eyes moved to the seat I was pointing at and his eyebrow rose. “Oh. That’s one of the oddities. Not sure of the name because most of the oddities aren’t worth my mind space. It leaves more room for people like that.” He pointed to another girl who had a face plastered with makeup and was wearing a tight black shirt that pushed up her tits. “Now that’s worthy of my brain. Hi, Tori,” he said, waving.

Tori turned around and flipped Connor off. Her eyes crossed mine, and she gave me a smile before turning back to laugh with the girl sitting next to her. “Ah, man, did you see that?!” Connor exclaimed. “Tori Eisenhower smiled at me!”

I didn’t tell him that she had actually been smiling at me, he seemed too thrilled about it.

“Well, okay, she was smiling at you, but since you’re my new main guy, it counts as a smile for me, too. Dude. Do you see it?” He waved his hands all around the room.

“See what?”

“The sea full of sweet, sweet pussy. It’s ours for the taking, my man.”

I laughed uncomfortably. Most of the time when I first met people I didn’t find the need to talk about using girls and referring to them as sweet pussy. With that one line, I was certain I didn’t like Connor.

Hopefully this would be our only class together.

The first hour bell rang. Mr. Jones walked in and began speaking, spitting on everyone in the front few rows. Connor kept whispering things about ‘banging chicks’ and ‘getting digits’ while tugging on his gold necklace.

I should’ve sat in the front row.

* * *

Connor followed me to science class, and at first I debated the idea that he was a stalker, but then realized that the schedule gods really hated my guts. I wished there was a decent way to say, ‘leave me the heck alone and stop talking about sex’ without sounding like an ass.