Your alarm didn’t go off. You officially have less than 20 minutes to get ready. RUN, Y/N, RUN!!!
So you do. You run to school like a Gacha Life heroine with a piece of plain bread daintily hanging out of your mouth. You also didn’t get your usual gram of caffeine from the absurd number of energy drinks you usually drink in the morning. Yes, gram. You down five cans of Celsius a day. That being said, you probably should’ve slept more than two hours.
You swore you were staying up to study for chemistry. I mean, how many edits of That One Fictional Ship could you watch instead of studying? A lot, apparently.
Surprisingly, you get to school three seconds early. As you rush to your first class, you catch a glimpse of That One Couple that can’t stop PDA-ing. You belch in disgust and head to your next class. After all, you’re too innocent (and single) for any of this.
You get to your first class, AP Chemistry. After class ends, two different people begin to debate on whether the answer to question 2a was 67 kilojoules or 21 kilojoules, but you got -2000 joules…
Your only friend decided to be absent, so that meant that you had to go to FLEX alone and hide your phone behind a book. Unfortunately, you weren’t thinking straight when you booked this teacher for FLEX, and she likes to stress you out by walking around the desks to make sure you’re working. Despite wanting to watch edits of That One Ship on repeat, you decide to stop and grab a Chromebook to be, ahem, “productive,” as the academic weapons say. School Chromebooks love not connecting to Wi-Fi, so you sit there in silence.
Third period should be chill. Your only easy A class. But of course your teacher wanted to give you a group project, and of course you got the worst possible group with that guy that won’t stop screaming 67 in every other sentence with his friends. Of course, you’re the only one doing this group project while every other member of your group yells at each other and gets nothing done. UGHHHH.
After two hours of misery, you get to lunch, but now you’re a loner because your only cool friend decided to be absent. Time to go to the lunch line to get a disgusting vegetarian burger (don’t cancel me, raw steak eaters)! It’s better than mystery meat, but chunks of random carrots sticking out of this . . . patty are disgusting.
The trashcan you walk towards is right next to a large lamp post covered in bird poop, so it gives a bird a free pass to just poop on your head. You give the seagull the dirtiest, nastiest RBF ever, but it flies away. Maybe you should grow wings for the sole occasion of STRANGLING THAT GODFORSAKEN BIRD.
UGHHHHH. You squeeze past a group of girls puffing on flavored air and start scrubbing your hair like sheer willpower might erase the bird poop from existence. In the end, you walk away with a large, icky tissue crumpled in your fist and bird poop only 80% gone.
You’re so done with this horrible school day by fifth period. When you get to math class, you fall asleep at your desk, slumping like you’re going to eat the desk or ask the desk to eat you. When you realize you can’t sleep, you decide to daydream about That One Fictional Ship. You watched way too many edits for them not to be canon. They’re real, but no one else in the fandom would believe you anyway. I mean, if you flunked that test, at least that One Fictional Ship kept you sane, right?
You don’t notice the lesson pausing as you’re almost half asleep at this point. You also don’t realize that your teacher is walking up to you, sniffing very loudly and adjusting his glasses. He throws you a cough, then a glare. The kid next to you pokes you in the side, trying to jolt you awake.
There’s a slamming of a ruler against the desk, which actually wakes you up. “Whu—”
Your teacher sniffs, walking back to his desk and emerging with a pink detention slip. “Get your stuff, Ms. Y/N.”
Ohhh no, Y/N. . .
That day, you end school with detention. Worst. School. Day. EVER.
