Chocolate brown eyes stared down at a piece of paper, a number two pencil scrawling down imaginary creatures and animated objects. A delicate hand scribbled as he shaded in a tall, dark and lanky looking creature, something that Blake Warren liked to doodle quite often onto the side of his school notes. He should have been paying more attention to his Algebra class, but Algebra was awfully boring. Drawing was more fun, and it was a good distraction to pass the time by quicker. In the back of his mind, he could hear his father scolding him because of his poor grades in class. 

"[i]Blake...[/i]"

The top of his pencil broke as he pressed it too hard into the paper. The thought of his father's voice had caused him to believe that his teacher was now aware of his absentminded doodling. He looked up, only to find his Algebra teacher writing down a hoard of numbers on the whiteboard. Nothing, no one was paying attention to him. Luckily. 

As if perfectly on cue, the obnoxiously loud ring of the school bell echoed through the halls. Immediately, Blake squashed the paper he had been drawing on in his hand and tossed it into the near by trash can. Standing up simultaneously with the rest of the class, he grabbed his black backpack and swung it over his shoulder. 

"[color=olivedrab]Remember class! I want your worksheets turned in by Thursday![/color]"

His teacher tried to keep the attention of the children, but none of them were actually listening. She was new, and the kids took advantage of it. Wasn't that the way it always went? Sooner or later she would have to grow more of a backbone and become one of those teachers all the students hated, but respected at least. 

In between classes was usually a short five minute period for students to talk to one another before scrambling to class, but Blake wasn't really one for pointless socialization. He had a few friends, but he certainly wasn't part of the "popular" group of kids, nor did he want to be part of them. He was usually disgusted by them, in fact. Luckily he had remained out of their radar, being the quiet undisruptive person he was. 

It was time for his English class, one of the easiest classes for him. That teacher was a little more strict and could handle the roudy teenagers, but Blake at least understood what was being taught so the urge to draw was smaller. Nonetheless, he could not wait for this day to be over already. It was dragging. 

Sitting down in his usual seat in the back of the class near the window, Blake tucked his backpack under his chair and pulled out his English text book which had a crumpled piece of paper behind the cover. As he set the heavy book down on his desk he pulled out the piece of paper, a scribbled mess of his homework that was due today. It wasn't in the crisp condition he had received it in, but at least he had done it. 

Walking up to the front to turn in his homework on the teachers desk, Blake unfortunately tripped on an uneven area in the carpet. He stumbled and then caught himself on someone's desk. Looking up, he met eyes with the girl, so embarrassed he barely registered who it was. "[color=darkcyan]Sorr-[/color]" The students who witnessed the trip began to giggle behind him. His face flushed as he stood upright and quickly made it to the front of the class. Tossing his homework on the stack that had already been turned in, the red faced boy hurried back to his desk. Now, on top of the day dragging by, it felt like everyone in the room was making fun of him. "[i]Smooth move, Blake...Idiot.[/i]" He thought, sinking into the uncomfortable desk chair.