An On-Line Novel: The Immoral- A Wad's Worth

Ronald dropped his lunch sack into the bathroom sink. He scanned the mirror's reflection of the five urinals behind him. The room was void of students and teachers. Good.

He opened his brown bag and dipped his hand into it. From there, he plucked out the baggie holding his tuna salad sandwich. Perfect. He unsealed it, peeled the plastic away from the white bread, and bit into it and chewed. Too bad I have to waste this on stupid people. It took every ounce of him to not swallow as he turned the faucet knobs. Under the running water, he held a sheet of his notebook paper and soaked it. Not enough to let it fall apart, but just enough for him to carefully hold it up by two corners. After, he laid onto the counter making sure to keep it in tact and then spit his chewed up sandwich onto it. At the Lutheran school he had made a name for himself when it came to tactical spit balls. He was an expert.

Bite by bite. Chew by chew. Spit by spit. He made a ball in the middle of the damp sheet. Carefully, he brought up the corners around the small mound and wrapped it as tightly as he could without it falling apart. The smell of this thing would linger for the day. Too bad he didn't have a few anchovies in oil to add. God help the one this lands on today.

A crooked grin creeped across his face. He contemplated who deserved it the most and it wasn't Gruber. Maybe Miss Wadsworth. Yeah. Pictures formed in his head on how he would make sure it would hit her face. He'd worry about the consequences later.

An On-Line Novel: The Immoral- Mrs. Douche-bag

 

A petite, redheaded woman skittered toward Cassandra, Ronald, and the other teens. “Miss Ray? Do I need to report you to your father?”

All the boys straightened and Ronald stepped away from the picnic table. Everyone went silent and their smiles faded.

Something about her stance made Cassandra feel small.

Leanne yanked her plaid skirt and smoothed it out. “No ma’am.” She stepped from the table top to the bench. From there, she hopped to the sandy ground.

The woman tugged at her fiftyish- handmade-looking-dress, lifting her chin and a well arched brow at the girl. “See to it that you act appropriately.” Her eyes glanced at Leanne’s blouse, and she splayed her right hand across hers. “Make sure you button up that blouse. If I see it like that again one more time this week, I will be forced to right you a warning.”

“Of course, Mrs. Dort.” Leanne’s voice oozed Southern sugar.

“The same goes for the rest of you.” The woman cast a gaze at Cassandra and Ronald. “You two must be new.”

Cassandra nodded. This teacher has forgotten who I am already? Her and her mother spoke to the home economics teacher two weeks ago. She had been the only fat girl who showed up at the orientation. It wasn’t like this was a large school. Last year, the high school yearbook showed that ten people graduated. It couldn't be that hard to remember anyone? She did recall the woman writing down her name on a tablet as well.

“Yes, ma’am.” Ronald used his respectful voice.

Mrs. Dort turned her attention to Cassandra. “Didn’t I meet you and your mother last week?”

“Yes.” She felt a little relieved that the teacher hadn't forgotten her afterall.

The woman tapped her chin. “Miss Berg? Right?”

“Yes. But you can call me Sassie.”

A quick smile flashed across the lady’s face and disappeared in an instant. “Not in my class.” Then she turned toward Ronald. “And what is your name, young man?”

“Ronald Fisher, ma’am.”

The teacher skimmed him from head to toe. “Make sure you mind your peas and q’s, Mr. Fisher.” She used a much sterner voice than with the rest of them.

Ronald curled up the left side of his mouth. “Yes, ma’am.” He stayed respectful.

“I will see all of you inside.” Mrs. Dort fiddled with her top button right at the pit of her throat. It appeared that her well-starched collar might choke her.

The teens nodded, and Mrs. Dort marched toward the double red doors.

“See you in a little bit, Mrs. Douche-bag,” Leanne stage-whispered through a giggle.

 

 

Shelly Arkon © 2015

 

 

An On-Line Novel: The Immoral -One of the Guys

One of the Guys

 

The girl’s words pricked Ronald to his very soul. How could she tell? It had to be impossible. He looked like any other fourteen-year-old guy. Rolling back his shoulders, he strutted toward her.

“What are you doing?” Cassandra grabbed his elbow from behind. “You don’t want to get caught and be suspended on your first day.”

Leanne glanced down her nose at his BFF.

Ronald watched a grin slink across the principal’s daughter's face. It twisted her angelic appearance. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” He yanked his arm away from Cassandra and made his way to the picnic table. There, he bent to the left and peered up the girl’s skirt. White panties. They were no big deal. The undies resembled some his mom wore.

Cassandra huffed from behind.

He knew she was disappointed in him. But what she didn’t know was that he needed to keep a secret that she didn’t even know. He had to prove that he was just one of the guys.

 

 

Shelly Arkon © 2015