The cellphone rang late at night, and Zach’s eyes popped open as he hurriedly pulled himself off his stack papers and reached back to answer it. He sighed in frustration as his hand fumbled towards the phone, his body too lazy and tired to get up, bend over, and pick up the tiny phone.
At that very moment, the light wooden chair fell over and his feet kicked up the flimsy excuse for a table, shooting that stack of books and paper high into the air and then flat onto the ground. His ring tone of Don’t Worry, Be Happy buzzed on, almost mocking him as he threw a book off his head and exasperatedly picked up the phone.
“Hello?” he grumbled.
He heard a sudden inhalation of air, then silence.
Zach’s eyes darted to the alarm clock, whose glaring red digits alerted that it was exactly 5:55 A.M. In less than one hour, he would have to shower and go to school. Fuck.
“…Hello? Who is this?”
The other end of the line was still quiet, followed a moment later by a soft click. Zach threw the phone into his backpack, cursed and groggily started to pack up his papers for another fun-filled day of learning.
A good leer in the bathroom mirror was all he needed to determine that the day ahead of him was going to be hell. On days like this, where even your tissues had issues with you and ground against your sniffling nose like sandpaper, Zach had a strategy.
If the world is cold, wear a jacket. Not just one, but two. And four shirts underneath that. Wear baggy pants, the kind that sag so people will have a harder time kicking your ass. And then there were the glasses. Bold, thick-rimmed glasses that magnified his eyes into a scary, distorted leer.It didn’t matter what the season was. This was his armor, and school was his battleground. CHARGE!
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