HOME | DD

Description
School Daze: The Senior

"A line, in geometric terms, has no endpoints and continues infinitely in each direction. A segment, however, has two specific end points—one on each side of the line."
To the boy who answered the question, it was child's play. Every definition was too simplistic in geometry. The rest of the class stared at him, in both awe and annoyance of his 'official' answering tone.
From the back of the room, a male voice commented, "Little smartass."
A few of the students chuckled and giggled. The teacher spoke up, assuming the comment might hurt the 'smartass' student. "Hey, hey, now, being smart is good. It gets you far!"
The boy who had answered the question only smirked at the teacher's input. His voice was cocky with his reply.
"Haha, very funny. You're a senior in geometry—try calling me that when I'm your boss, and we'll see what happens. That is, if I somehow pity and hire you."
"Hey! I don't want no fighting in my class, now. Let's all get along, and continue with the lesson."
The rest of the class time was uneventful. When the class ended, the boy walked outside, and leaned against the wall next to the door. The other students left one by one, until the Senior was the last to leave. The Senior stared at the boy—glared, more truly—and stopped. The Senior walked in front of the boy, trying to pop his muscles and appear menacing.
"You think you're funny? Huh?"
The boy only smirked again. His eyes were closed, and his hands behind his head. He was obviously relaxed, and not feeling threatened.
"Little punk-ass cocky bitch!"
The Senior grabbed the boy by the shoulders, pulling him away from the wall, and thrust him back into the wall.
"Learn your place, fresh[i]meat[/i]!"
The boy's head hurt slightly from hitting the wall, but he made no apparent sign of it.
"Hit me, if I'm so bad."
"You think I won't? Dumbass!"
"I think that the re—"
The boy's speech was cut off by the Senior's fist jamming into his stomach. He would have hunched over, were it not for the Senior still pinning him against the wall. He clenched his teeth.
"Not so tough now, huh?"
"S-Sorry, try again."
There was no hesitance. The Senior unleashed a second punch. The boy grunted, but did little to fight back.
"Learn some respect, Freshman!"
"I might after a few more rounds!"
The Senior lost control after that point. He set loose two more punches—one to the kid's guy, and then to his face. The blow to the head made the kid lose consciousness. His eyes closed, and he went limp. The Senior pulled his arm pinning the Freshman back, letting him slump to the floor. Without another word, the Senior hurried off.
A few moments after the Senior walked away, the boy woke up. His eyes fluttered open, and his cheek stung where he was hit. His guy didn't feel to terrible, despite three times he beating of his cheek. He stood up, shaking his head to help regain senses faster.
His notebook he had dropped, and the pencil rolled a bit away. He retrieved them both with a sigh.
"That makes three death wishes." He thought to himself. He smiled and laughed. Out loud, he spoke to himself, "Do I really piss people off that much?"
He walked out of the hall, to outside, breathing the fresh air. It felt better than the rigid, air-condition inside air. Looking around him, through the crowd of other sudents, he searched for his friend. His [b][i]best[/i][/b] friend. They'd known each other only a few days, and yet they'd connected instantly.
"If I were my friend, where would I be…?"
He knew where already, the second the question popped in his head. He walked towards the science building, passing it. He walked towards the foreign language building, and past it. He walked towards the music building, and to the main room, where the school marching band often practiced. He could hear them practicing already, not even five minutes into lunch.
As he walked around the corner of the building, and into the hallway through the big double doors, the music grew louder. He walked to the glass doors that enclosed the music/band room, and looked in. Straight into the room, talking to two of the band members, the boy's friend sat.
He smiled to himself. "Right where I thought she'd be."
He walked into the room, raising his voice and calling to her. "Hello, how ya doing, what's up and all that stuff!" It was more of a statement than a question, really.
The girl looked at him, stopping her conversation with the band members. Hel—oh my god! What happened to your face?"
Even with the unusual worry in her voice throwing it off, he found it calming and almost assuring. He didn't know why…

Description
School Daze: The Senior

"A line, in geometric terms, has no endpoints and continues infinitely in each direction. A segment, however, has two specific end points—one on each side of the line."
To the boy who answered the question, it was child's play. Every definition was too simplistic in geometry. The rest of the class stared at him, in both awe and annoyance of his 'official' answering tone.
From the back of the room, a male voice commented, "Little smartass."
A few of the students chuckled and giggled. The teacher spoke up, assuming the comment might hurt the 'smartass' student. "Hey, hey, now, being smart is good. It gets you far!"
The boy who had answered the question only smirked at the teacher's input. His voice was cocky with his reply.
"Haha, very funny. You're a senior in geometry—try calling me that when I'm your boss, and we'll see what happens. That is, if I somehow pity and hire you."
"Hey! I don't want no fighting in my class, now. Let's all get along, and continue with the lesson."
The rest of the class time was uneventful. When the class ended, the boy walked outside, and leaned against the wall next to the door. The other students left one by one, until the Senior was the last to leave. The Senior stared at the boy—glared, more truly—and stopped. The Senior walked in front of the boy, trying to pop his muscles and appear menacing.
"You think you're funny? Huh?"
The boy only smirked again. His eyes were closed, and his hands behind his head. He was obviously relaxed, and not feeling threatened.
"Little punk-ass cocky bitch!"
The Senior grabbed the boy by the shoulders, pulling him away from the wall, and thrust him back into the wall.
"Learn your place, fresh[i]meat[/i]!"
The boy's head hurt slightly from hitting the wall, but he made no apparent sign of it.
"Hit me, if I'm so bad."
"You think I won't? Dumbass!"
"I think that the re—"
The boy's speech was cut off by the Senior's fist jamming into his stomach. He would have hunched over, were it not for the Senior still pinning him against the wall. He clenched his teeth.
"Not so tough now, huh?"
"S-Sorry, try again."
There was no hesitance. The Senior unleashed a second punch. The boy grunted, but did little to fight back.
"Learn some respect, Freshman!"
"I might after a few more rounds!"
The Senior lost control after that point. He set loose two more punches—one to the kid's guy, and then to his face. The blow to the head made the kid lose consciousness. His eyes closed, and he went limp. The Senior pulled his arm pinning the Freshman back, letting him slump to the floor. Without another word, the Senior hurried off.
A few moments after the Senior walked away, the boy woke up. His eyes fluttered open, and his cheek stung where he was hit. His guy didn't feel to terrible, despite three times he beating of his cheek. He stood up, shaking his head to help regain senses faster.
His notebook he had dropped, and the pencil rolled a bit away. He retrieved them both with a sigh.
"That makes three death wishes." He thought to himself. He smiled and laughed. Out loud, he spoke to himself, "Do I really piss people off that much?"
He walked out of the hall, to outside, breathing the fresh air. It felt better than the rigid, air-condition inside air. Looking around him, through the crowd of other sudents, he searched for his friend. His [b][i]best[/i][/b] friend. They'd known each other only a few days, and yet they'd connected instantly.
"If I were my friend, where would I be…?"
He knew where already, the second the question popped in his head. He walked towards the science building, passing it. He walked towards the foreign language building, and past it. He walked towards the music building, and to the main room, where the school marching band often practiced. He could hear them practicing already, not even five minutes into lunch.
As he walked around the corner of the building, and into the hallway through the big double doors, the music grew louder. He walked to the glass doors that enclosed the music/band room, and looked in. Straight into the room, talking to two of the band members, the boy's friend sat.
He smiled to himself. "Right where I thought she'd be."
He walked into the room, raising his voice and calling to her. "Hello, how ya doing, what's up and all that stuff!" It was more of a statement than a question, really.
The girl looked at him, stopping her conversation with the band members. Hel—oh my god! What happened to your face?"
Even with the unusual worry in her voice throwing it off, he found it calming and almost assuring. He didn't know why…