Chapter #5School Days by: Fafnir   Mark had always been considered the weird kid in class.
Maybe because he always been smarter than most of his fellow classmates since grade school, or that he would start spouting off about whatever was on his mind out of the blue, but he chalked it down to a lack of interest in anything suited to his age. He felt far more comfortable talking to the adults instead, especially his professors, which led to his current situation at school.
It was lunch time.
By now, his classmates would be hanging out in their little cliques, either gossiping or being a nuisance to one another. Mark sat alone in the corner, idly chewing on what the school considered to be "food" as his mind mulled over the device hidden in his backpack. He'd done the impossible, but now he had now idea what to do with it. Like the man that had achieved everything, he just didn't know what to do with what he painstakingly worked for.
Mark buckled forward as a weight suddenly slammed into his back.
Unprepared, Mark had no time to catch himself before he faceplanted into his food, which had the look and consistency of tar, and reared back as laughter exploded behind him. Wiping the food out of his eyes, he wasn't surprise to see it was Heather and her groupies when he turned around.
Heather's hair was like a waterfall of dark curls surrounding two brown eyes gleaming with mirth. Freckles dusted her cheeks, but were nearly invisible against her tanned skin. Her body was something straight out of a male fantasy; a heaving pair of tits with an equally impressive ass that met together at a slim waist. If she'd been a model, Mark wouldn't have doubted it, but he'd long lost any attraction to the bitch.
"Oh my." She snickered. "I'm soo sorry I didn't see you there Mark."
'Didn't see you there my ass.' Mark fumed, wiping away the remains of his lunch. Like the dozens of other times that she didn't see him there or when her feet just happened to be there when he walked by. Or any of the little "coincidences" that seemed to happen whenever the two of them were in the same room. He brought it up with his teachers, but her groupies were always there to defend her, claiming he was the one harassing her. In that situation, Mark had little choice but to back off.
Heather had it out for him.
Why?
Mark had no clue.
Locking down the immediate surge of anger, Mark spied who he assumed was her current boyfriend, standing off a little to side with his buddies. Buddies, which judging by their bulging arms, ate iron for breakfast and twisted people like him into knots as a warm-up. Clenching his teeth, Mark picked up his tray and walked away, keeping away from the group lest any of them just happened to not see him there either.
Mark left from the cafeteria with as much dignity as man covered in food could. Retreating to the nearest bathroom, he cleaned off the last bits of his lunch out of his hair, staring into the mirror as his anger finally boiled over.
"GOD DAMN IT!" He screamed, slamming his fist into the wall.
Only to wince as a lance of pain broke through the haze. He cursed some more, cradling the injured hand in the other one but it little to calm the simmering wrath beneath his skin. If only he could do something. Something that not even Heather and her groupies could wiggle their slimy little mitts out of.
Like lightning, an idea struck.
Mark stared down at his backpack, a sinister grin splitting his lips. Slowly, he opened his backpack to pull out the gadget that could make it all possible. You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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