[color=slategray]R I T A  R O S S [/color]
[hr][sub]First day of class.[/sub]

[b]WHO AM I?[/b]  The question was posed to the girl with the bandanna tied around her forehead, her leather cap was turned backwards, she wore her leather jacket and a guns n roses T-shirt, going with the 80's Rose-Aesthetic she was going with today. Her cold blue eyes looked at the empty sheet of paper while everyone else seemed to be writing books about themselves. She couldn't think of anything to write. Who was she? If you asked her former classmates, they would say things like 'Stuck-up', 'bitch' and 'angry'. Was the reason she couldn't  think of anything because she felt insecure about herself?

No. She needed a cigarette. Her need for nicotine was driving her crazy, each stroke of the pencils pissed her off more, as she clenched the pen between her fingers, and as if nothing, the pen snapped in four different places under the pressure. "Fuck." she said, softly. "I'm gonna go take a leg stretcher, I need to go to the bathroom, and to get a new pen. Be back in five." Rita said, she had regular fights with the faculty about her tendency to just walking out of lessons, like that. 

She left the classroom and headed outside, getting out her pack of smokes, lighting one before she was anywhere near the ashtray. It was perhaps a hundred meter walk to the ashtray, she checked her phone. Four texts from her mom. She wanted her to come to her father's promotion dinner tonight. He made senior partner at his firm, Reed & Associates. Anton was gonna become the youngest senior partner in the firm's history, it was quite the affair.

She was gonna blow it off. She shot a text to George. "Beers 2nite?" Almost immediately, George - Harrison, as people called him, due to his resemblance to a fourth of the Beatles, due to his hipster style, responded. "U kno it. My or urs?"

"Mine. M&D are out. Bring wine."

"K."

She closed down her phone, and finished her third cigarette, before heading back to class. She arrived just as the girl wtih the buzzcut finished speaking, sitting down. She dug out a new pen from her bag, and began writing down words that meant nothing to her. She wrote down "Hard Working" "Reliable" "Trustworthy" "Respectful" "Pretty" and "Driven". She went onto write about ambitions, how she 'wanted' to become a lawyer like her dad, working wirh the rights of children, because she [i]looves[/i] kids.

She hated kids. And she hated the idea of working in law. But it was what people expected from her. Now, in her senior year, more than ever. She finished writing down her lies, and then let the pen rest, sitting back and plugging in her headphones, Pearl Jam was playing. 'Just Breath' from backspacer, one of her favorites, one of the few calm songs in her entire playlist.

But as she did, she started thinking, putting a hand into the air, not waiting to be allowed to speak, she spoke anyway. [color=slategray]"We're punkass kids who think we're smarter than we really are. Everyone who's attended this school before knows that we're quite a bunch of characters, meant for a after school special. You're a new teacher here, and you're trying to bring some Good Will Hunting shit in here. Or maybe you're trying to give the finger to the principal, which is always a blast."[/color]

She took a break for a second. [color=slategray]"This question is bullshit. Besides being perhaps a little less dull than our peers, we have nothing in common."[/color]