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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1086261-Outside-Looking-In
Rated: E · Fiction · Satire · #1086261
A story told from the point of view of an outsider at a Liverpool High School.
Outsider Looking In

- Introductions -

Have you ever wondered what the world looks like to an outsider? We each view the world differently: babies, toddlers, teenagers, adults each have their own view of the world around them. Television today seems to cover the world of an outsider constantly but, let's face it, that's not real life. It's just someone unreal trying to live in the real world. I mean, fine, putting a group of people in a house with cameras watching them twenty four seven could be real life if the people didn't play up for the cameras. Is that real? I'm not claiming to be real. Hang on, you don't even know who I am yet do you? Okay, here's the introduction.

My name's Aidan. I'm seventeen, a lower sixth former in Monk's Hill High School in Liverpool. I'm your average teenager, has a problem with school because it requires work (but somehow I managed good grade...), hormones raging like a pack of wild dogs with an attitude that says "I hate the world" better than a neon sign ever could. I like most things and am open to trying everything and anything new.

However, there is one thing I really do hate and that is how people act so different in School to each other. It's like prehistoric tribes competing for food! Honestly, you go in the sixth form common room and you have the upper sixth and the lower sixth on two different sides on the common room. Within each year it breaks down even more into little sub-groups. Okay, so let me break it down for you simply here. In lower sixth there are:

Group 1 - The "Pretty" People

Tanned orange and reeking of arrogance, these people naturally occupy the centre of the common room so as to be surrounded by others. The top of the food chain these people are, quite simply, carnivores that will eat anyone and everyone who isn't in their group or interesting enough to amuse them (please note they have a short attention span). They aren't totally cruel in this way; they do spit out the remains so that faithful pretty people wannabe's can laugh at them. Loyalty within this group is practically none existent, its dog eat dog within the ranks, no real partnerships exist. Despite the lack of eating each other in the group they will happily screw one another over for their own personal gain if the need arises. And, to prove they are not totally uncivilized in this manner, they will happily pin blame on someone else leaving the screwer unaffected and the screwed... well... screwed.

Order within this group is very precise. It goes in order of prettiness. The alpha male is normally a prime candidate to enter Adolph Hitler's Aryan race. Blond hair, blue eyes, tall, a sports fanatic with a physique to match usually leads this predatory group. The alpha female is always blond and has to be, as a rule, gorgeous and utterly beautiful (whether that beauty is natural born or naturally bought in Boots is not important). Sometimes the two alphas date and lead their group as a couple, whether the relationship is exclusive does not matter as "it's not cheating if you're both doing it". Supporting these two leaders are their dim witted subordinates who have as much loyalty to their leaders as they have brain cells to themselves. Each subordinate schemes and bitches in order to take the alpha male and females place within the ranks while pretending they are not.

A noticeable trait within this group is their lack of individuality. Once one of them has an idea that is remotely unique the others catch on and claim it as their own. This most commonly happens with the females and the clothes they wear. If a subordinate comes up with an idea everyone loves, it means trouble for the alpha female who tackles this by claiming the idea as her own. Any arguments to this are considered unacceptable and are punishable by death (okay, so maybe not death but it's a happier alternative than the prospect of being outcast.) Another trait, or curse, of this group is their rule that "everyone else's business must be their own." Information is dangerous in these people’s hands and they don't care who it hurts. So long as they are safe and not held liable for anything.

This group is what the lion's are to the African savannah. They are the top of the food chain and staying out their way is the best course of action. However, if a conflict does occur then praying is not an acceptable solution, just as bargaining, hoping it’s all a dream or changing your identity is not going to work. The ground won't open up to swallow you. All you can hope for is a good funeral for what was your social standing (only exception to this rule is the further down groups.)

Group 2 - The Popular People

Friends with everyone this group consists of people who are not pretty enough to be in the pretty people (or are too nice and sensitive) and those who are interesting enough to be able to add character to the group (too much of an asset to be lost to another group). Like the pretty people it is led by a couple who have been dating for longer than is humanly possible at their age and who are irritatingly cute and cuddly to the rest of the world (others in the group are in competition to reach new extremes of irritatingly cute and cuddly). Unlike the pretty people, however, this group is based on a strict set of laws that are meant to be considered common knowledge and not teachable. If you don't know the rules then you had better learn fast or you will be in trouble.

The group is completely seemingly equal and each member has some urge to constantly promote school spirit and show off in the name of it. Whether it be singing (I do use that term very loosely) in a school concert or helping the cleaners clean up after school they will do it if it improves their standing within the social hierarchy.

This group has an equality of looks and brains (half of them look good while lacking brains, the rest are intelligent but extremely ugly) which adds some unity to them. Popularity has its price though, they must be able to party and throw a party that people will love and remember, and it is up to the others in the group to help each other achieve this. Scandals are saved till an important party to make it more memorable (even if scandals are unavailable at that time then they will happen spontaneously, its a guaranteed law in the same league as those of gravity, it is the duty of people to ensure that, at a party, there must be a scandal).

Inter-group dating is encouraged as it binds the group in both friendship as well as sex. However, a drunken kiss at a party is, as a rule, meaningless unless it is discussed positively the next day. Otherwise it is meant to be forgotten. Out of group dating is not forbidden but is not encouraged as it can lead to complications in other out of group relationships (For example, Group boy and Out of Group girl date, OOG Girl is friends with Group Girl, G Boy and OOG Girl break up, G Boy and G Girl fight over G Girls continued friendship with OOG Girl).

This group has strong bonds with members of every single group; they are the UN of sixth form life. However, if the "leaders" condemn someone within the sixth form then under no circumstances can you knowingly consider them as a friend (this only really applies to group members). If you do then it is like a time bomb, ticking down to destruction of your social standing. There is a loophole to this rule that is completely accepted. If a rivalry that pre-dates the membership of the group causes someone to be condemned then it is your own choice whether you associate with them or not. Despite this seemingly dictatorship style grouping it is, in fact, highly democratic. Everything done by a member must be okayed by everyone within the group.

Group 3 - The 'Loose' Group

Overall this group thrives on sexual discovery and in that respect must have explored as much as Christopher Columbus and Indiana Jones combined. They can all normally be found by the doors exiting the Sixth Form common room (this is in case unexplored areas lie open to them) or not in the common room at all. It depends on a few factors such as time of the month, time of the day, people present, people not present and current relationship status (the final one doesn't really matter that much to them, a relationships is just simply a guarantee or something that makes someone more desirable).
The group on the whole has an extremely close inter-group relationship as well as very many out of group relationships. They are the only group other than the popular group who have had very close relationships with other people in other groups (usually don't last that long, sometimes a whole night if lucky). This group can be broken down further into two separate sub-groups (it is noted there is a lot of inequality and double standards that separate the two sub-groups). These are quite obvious and are divided into the males and females:

A. The Females: The females of the group seem to have a set goal of sleeping with every male within the vicinity of them. Having already achieved the object of sleeping with the males of the group they use this as a conversation piece for when men are scarce (barely ever) or when they wish to speak and 'compare notes' (normally every day).

The females gain many names including the favorite of many (also possibly the most offensive as it would be the truth and lying is needed to be successful in this group), would be 'easy'. However, it is common knowledge that, despite the ambitions of these girls, they are the fountain of all knowledge on all subjects to do with sex. Therefore they attract the attention of even the most innocent female who seeks the answers they possess. This is the only groups who prides themselves and are open enough to discuss their sex lives, every other group keeps that were it should be, behind closed doors. Despite this openness there is an etiquette to being in this half of the group, you don't reveal the details to just anyone (it seems you can be both 'easy' and modest at the same time in this group).

B. The Males: These males share the same ambition as that of the females. However there is one crucial difference, they go for the females themselves. Much of their time is spent discussing their conquests and also 'comparing notes' with their friends. Usually they spend any free time out trying to find new territory or just simply closer to home re-examining the 'previous encounters'.

Considering the amount of money they spend on condoms per week it is easy to imagine any written shopping lists (for example, milks, eggs, condoms, bread etc) without once laughing at the prospect of it really existing. An interesting side point is the fact that the males can have 'creative license' over their conquests and seem like Gods while the females tell the truth (or close enough to it) and earn bad reputations. The rules of modesty and detail don't seem to apply to the males at all. Like the pretty people they will happily screw you over by spreading details to the entire sixth form. Also, like the females the males are considered a fountain of knowledge on pulling and all things sex but, unlike the females, they are not always honest and enjoy seeing a nervous male make a fool of himself in the pursuit of a girl.

As a whole both sub-groups are highly similar but tend to be the topic of many different conversations as well as many jokes. However, they do not seem to care so much because they are happy with who they are.

Group 4 - The Music Lovers

Any music they can get into this group will love. Ranging from Classical to heavy metal they don't care, so long as they have a stereo blasting music out twenty four hours a day. A downside to this is that it is not always possible so they solve this with headphones. Now these wonderful inventions are both a blessing and a curse. On the plus side they allow music to be listened to loudly with no complaints. The downside is that it can cause great embarrassment. There is nothing worse than listening to music in a class, be asked a question and respond subconsciously with A) the wrong answer or B) song lyrics that could confuse even others in the group.

Most likely to have a disheveled and tired appearance after a rigorous night of gig-going and after show drinking (or even pre-gig or mid-gig drinking). However, these are possibly the most sociable group around as they share a link with every other group in the sixth form hierarchy. They all have a taste for music of varying types. With this as their connection they talk to all other groups and are practically neutral with friends all over the sixth form.

The potential downside to the group is that you have to speak up in order to be heard (gigs and loud music do take their toll eventually) and temporary deafness can soon evolve into permanent deafness. Overall there is little to say about the group other than it is friendly and a mixture of all other groups in one.

Group 5 - Goths/Moshers/Skaters/Punks

This group is not the happiest group in the sixth form but still they can be classed as one of the kindest. Though they do look very predatory they are, in fact, soft hearted inside and willing to help anyone who asks for it. The stereotype suggests their dress is usually extreme with a lot of metal (piercing', jewellary, weaponry), mainly black or dark colors (they will argue that there are multiple shades of black) and a temper that could feed the third world. Okay, so partly the stereotype is true (Goths do also argue that black is a shade and not in fact a color) but the temper is only a cover for what is on the inside.

Normally they sit and brood in large groups cracking their fingers menacingly while listening to overly loud metal music that deafens even if your hearing aid is turned off. Despite this seemingly menacing and frightening appearance they talk about many soft hearted things (some are even known for their love of croquet while others love to remove photographs of puppies from their wallets and share stories about them) and this is only not known because others are too scared to come close enough to listen.

They are enemies of everyone (except the music lovers) and most commonly draw attention of the negative kind from the Scals in group six (common quotes: "Eeeeeee ya Goth", "'ere, ya got any weed la" and "ya fuckin' Goth!" These are usually accompanied with a barrage of bottles and other badly aimed weapons being thrown). Despite the attention gained they never seem to want any of it, they just want to fade into the background and out of society till they are ready. They simply claim to be misunderstood and victimized (mostly true) and completely innocent in all acts of violence (either true due to memory loss through drug usage or the biggest pile of bullshit in the world ever).

Overall the group is discriminated against but the stereotype is not far off albeit a little extreme. Complete opposites to group six (dark colors instead of bright, varied styles in the wardrobe instead of monotonous shell suits) but also very alike in the fact that they are both as bad as each other by causing trouble purposefully. Depending who you are and how you act around them they will behave accordingly (see the film 'Shrek' and references to onions and layers for an apt comparison).

Group 6 - The Scallies/Chavs/Trendies/Townies

An almost foreign group that have fetishes for shell suits and Burberry. Its nearly impossible to understand what this group is saying without having a translator present. Growls seem to replace most sounds when they talk and, once caught, it is impossible to not mimic this voice yourself. Order within the group is not so easily understood, it is possible that people in this group do not understand the idea of "order" as it'd require the use of their brain (it is worth noting that this group does have a brain, it is just a very complicated procedure using it). However, in its defense I must say this group is not entirely stupid; they do perform a few important functions within society in later life. They become the secretaries and receptionists of tomorrow, the leisure workers and personal trainers keeping us fit and the salon employees attempting to make us look good while talking utter rubbish. Another note on the subject of speech. This group has access to a very small vocabulary so, despite looking intimidating in the night, they spend a lot of time being confused by words that extend past one syllable.

Identifying a member of this group is made easy by many noticeable features. The two most common are the luminous colored shell suits that are worn (an unsolved mystery is the true contents of their wardrobe, speculations include the idea that the wardrobe consists of only identical shell suits of different colors). The other main noticeable feature applies to Males of the group; this is the insecurity of whether their genitals are secure in the shell suits. A common sight is a "Scally lad" walking down the road with his hands down his pants seemingly holding his penis. Many people speculate this is due to insecurity, or paranoia that if they don't keep hold of it then it will evaporate, or that female "Scallies" find it attractive somehow. The most radical theory is that there is a magnetic attraction between the hand and the penis that, if broken, might kill (if this is true then the same attraction must exist with beer, weed and cigarettes).

Inter-group conflict is normal and usually happens over "Scally" females, drugs, drink or anything else they find annoying enough to fight over (or with if you are a Goth). Due to the conflict they are usually located near a window or door or open space so that injury rates are lowered. Weapon of choice is usually a football (or broken bottles); victims of choice are usually windows and innocent bystanders (or Goths).

Encounters with this group will result in confusion and possibly a large amount of physical harm depending on what mood they are in. Not all encounters end like this; sometimes they are simply just after weed and will therefore call even a girl "lad" in their utter confusion and haste to get stoned. A hint that should be universally acknowledged is to never shake hands with this group or come in contact with the hands of this group unless you yourself have witnessed them be washed (even then it is at your own risk, the NHS will not offer free treatment for knowing contact with the group).

Group 7 - Arty People

Normally found sitting near a wall that once was nice and plain but is now covered in paint and pictures to form a collage of art work that even Da Vinci would've found unique and shocking (and lets face it, it takes a lot to shock a man who dug up corpses). Scal's have a habit of going to this group for weed but it is unknown if they use drugs to enter to the permanently stoned like state they are in or if it’s just a natural state.

Not much can be really said about this group. Paint stains are not an unnatural occurrence if you see them round the school. However, common territory seems to be the art department (any non-art students beware entering the department unprotected) and common partners in crime (or cigarette smoking) seem to be the art teachers. Generally a nice group but sometimes easily enraged and scared (a paint pot falling over is call for paranoia over the apocalypse, not necessarily because it’s coming, but over who will paint it with the most feeling) but they also know what's important and what's not important, they are naturally born viewers of life.

Group 8 - The Nerds/Geeks/Swats/Suck-ups

The most intelligent group as well as the most victimized and mocked group in the whole hierarchy of school life. Normally found with their noses buried deep within some complicated science text book while their hands scribble homework on the cleanest sheet of paper you could ever find. Despite their being many different types in this group it’s impossible to name them all, list them and then read them through and still be awake at the halfway point.
Naturally they are the punch line of some joke or other and are mocked by many on a daily basis. However, this group don't really care as they will be the future of Universities such as Oxford and Cambridge (the Nerds would like to insert a "ha-ha" in here directed at any who mock them) as well as growing up to have brainy excellent paid jobs (Nerds would also like a "nana-nanana" inserted for good measure).
They are rarely found within the boundaries of the common room as they are studying profusely in the Library or somewhere else (they demand constant quiet and complain the Library itself to too loud) that allows them to concentrate more easily. It’s not unusual to find them "whispering" (a very loose term) to themselves often as they like to reiterate what they know (while annoying and scaring others) as well as re-educate those within hearing distance.

Though often seen as weak they are directly the opposite with power as opposed to strength over those who think they are easily exploited. Might seem nice and tame but they are a bitch to deal with really. The Mathematical Mafia as it where. Due to this they are not at the bottom of the scale, but are close enough to the bottom to know exactly what hell is like.

Group 9 - The Outsiders/Freaks/Rejects/Losers

This group is the lowest on the scale the punch line of every comment and opinion. They have no fixed place; they aren't wanted by any one group and spend their lives being friends with members of each. They also don't give a damn what people think of them. This group is my group, we kind of look in on the world through skeptical eyes which aren't totally biased (maybe a little though) but are probably also the most truthful. No reason to cloud the truth or lie about things, just see what we see and that's it. A lot of them gossip about what they see but they don't really admit it (but some of us do). Being an outsider is both a blessing and a curse to them. A blessing because they don't get involved in group-wide arguments but also a curse because they aren't in such a united group as everyone else is.

Being an outsider is kind of a lonely prospect because they aren't so much a group within the same year but more of a school wide group of a few people. Those in the same year never seem to unite together (Individuality seems to have a price now: loneliness) but share a common pastime of mocking the other groups around them and priding themselves on not allying themselves with just one particular group (I.E. we aren't a bunch of sheep).

Normal dress is quite diverse and different from those around them and changes radically from day to day depending on their mood. One thing they love is music but not to a degree of listening to it all the time. They listen to it depending on what mood they are in (a little Britney before a night out, a little Manson doing the homework) and depending on what the flavors of the month are for them.

People view them as bad because they don't just not fit in, they don't seem to actively show they care they don't fit in (it irritates them knowing that they have some people who wouldn't kill to be in with them.) Usually this makeshift group is made of those who were either too much of something to be in one group or too little of something else to be in another (For example, a scally who wore the shell suits but was more brown than orange.)
Many hate being in this group. Me? I embrace the fact I am not part of a conceited clique and have my own opinions. Okay, so maybe I hate it a little but it gives my life some form of uniqueness.

So that's the basic introduction to the types of people who can be found inhabiting the Classes, Common Room and Halls of Monk's Hill High School. Some of these are as common as blackbirds eating bread on your garden lawn, some as rare as a golden eagle. Some are as tame as a goldfish; others are as violent as a Great Alsatian. However, they are all, and I mean all, vindictive, conniving and bloody clever. Your greatest enemy and your best friend can reverse roles so fast and your only guaranteed friend is yourself. Welcome to Monk's Hill and a day through my eyes.

- Registration -

Ah, the joys of registration of a Monday morning. Entering the classroom I take my usual seat (assigned might I add) next to the queen of blond stereotyping, Precious. This blond bombshell is shockingly enough naturally that color, she wishes she could say the same about the rest of her. Tanned to high heaven she looks like a n orange was squeezed over her at birth. She is the prime pretty person and I suppose I should be honoured to be in such close contact with her (neither of us like it but don't complain anymore) but her lack of brains and common sense makes her difficult to deal with. For only fifteen minutes a day do I sit next to this plastic doll and yet she drives me insane within the first fifteen seconds. She once asked me what a continent was (God only knows how she got that "C" in GCSE Geography) and insisted that the number for 999 changed for each area (apparently Manchester' is 998). No wonder she never notices the fact her boyfriend cheats on her all the time.

So there I am, sitting in the joys of registration next to Jordan at the age of sixteen waiting for my form tutor to come into class. My form tutor enters with the usual air of nervousness and paranoia that suggests he had a breakfast of caffeine, caffeine and yet more caffeine. Mr Golding is a short, skinny man with glasses that magnify his eyes while somehow shrinking the size of his head. A natural born bachelor, Mr Golding has many students questioning whether he is a forty year old virgin or not, despite rumours linking him to many of the cleaning ladies who cannot be described as anything but ugly.

Mr Golding's paranoia causes him to be very unpredictable. Some days he can be strong willed and not put up with shit, other days he's shaking so much he can barely control the coffee cup he is carrying, let alone a class full of students. Today he is not in control but is attempting to gain it with little success. Today, he is telling us how to breathe effectively to gain control. Today, no one is really listening, just like every other day.
"Now, please.... Erm... Class... Please.... Breathe in deep" Stutters Golding as he inhales, no one follows suit. "And... and, breathe out...."

"Please Sir" Squeaks Precious "I need to go see Mr Rawlings about my... um... exam? He said to come quickly in the morning." The statement turned to a question and then into an innuendo but Golding did not notice, he simply nodded mid-inhalation, excusing her from his class. As she left voices erupted behind me as Precious' two minions began discussing her and Rawlings' "exam". I did pity Precious, she was so stupid that she had no idea everyone knew about her and Rawlings' extra curricular activities. But then again, they never seemed too bothered to hide it. I remember walking to the shop to buy lunch one day and saw them kissing inside his car he so inconspicuously parked outside the shop. She had seen me and claimed he had been trying to resuscitate her as she had had a severe food allegory (I assume she meant allergy) but I just nodded and said I didn't know what she was on about. Next time I was in class with Rawlings he gave me a great mark on an essay and seemed to suck up to no end.
Once Golding's breathing exercise's were done he began to do the register (I never knew my class was filled with members of every group) and read out notices that no one ever paid any notice to (except the two nerds at the back who squealed as they heard about the girls netball teach practice at lunch, they might relocate to do homework by the courts. I'm sure its far more educational there).

"Hey, Aid, you in Sterling's general studies class later?" Said Danni, the girl in most of my classes and one of the popular group. Nice girl, if just a little bit dense when it comes to matters of life. Clever as hell though and one of my best friends. We survived food technology for two years and now spend our time in form together productively. Okay, so that means talking about random rubbish that has nothing to do with school but still, its productive on a social level.

"Yeah, I am unfortunately going to attending that wonderful display of teaching prowess." I replied sarcastically. Mr. Sterling was my least favorite teacher even though he has never ever taught me. Danni's now talking randomly about TV last night and I wonder why she watches things like that anatomy show.

"You could see the muscles, and the skin just peeled off like -" Her sentence was cut short (thankfully, I was feeling my breakfast reversing the journey) by the door being opened and my socially adopted sister Chloe walked in in her uniform (the only year nine I will ever be able to tolerate) and began to speak to Golding. "Please, Sir, Aidan needs to go to the office now!" She practically shouted this as she knew Golding found loud noises intimidating and he just nodded and waved for me and her to go.
Grabbing my bag I saw it was only five minutes till the end of registration but I was happy to be away from Precious, her minions and Goldings' exercise in irritating breathing sooner (its ironic, all Precious has to do is breathe and I'm irritated, Golding I can handle until he purposefully tries to regulate his breathing.) Chloe was someone I met only a little while back but she was cool, she loved music and was the lower school outsider. She did however have hair like someone auditioning to be with McFly but its a forgivable offence as far as I was concerned. They weren't so bad after all (but I'd never admit that openly).

One outside Chloe turned and began her barrage of discussions about Jay and her other guys who she was into at that moment. It was amazing, she's not even fifteen and is seeing more interest than anyone I've met before. "Jay is seriously hot, he gave me his sweat band before! I was totally happy! Couldn't stop smiling! What time is it?" She asked quickly.

"Erm, it is nine fifteen" I said, looking at my watch, "And you dragged me out of a seat next to the illustrious Precious so this had better be important." I laughed loudly and Chloe grinned even wider, she was tiny but still rocked.
"Yeah, I know, but I saw her and Rawlings heading towards the photocopying room so I figured you would be lonely. Anyway, was going to come get you even if she wasn't gone. Don't want her converting you into a Man-Precious now do I?"

"You're right there." I said as the bell rang loudly above me. "But I have to go now and tackle the wonders of Sociology, yet another hour spent with Precious, her wannabes and the rest of my sheep like class. Last time I had to listen to Liam comparing the Nuclear Family to the Loose group, it made no sense! It sounded like incest and just a chance to brag. But then again, what else do I expect? With Jackson as my teacher its living proof that the loose ones end up in unsatisfying jobs and equally unsatisfying marriages. Bragging is all the two of them got!"
"Sounds thrilling..." Said Chloe, rolling her eyes "Now you go enjoy that and I'll see you later, okay?" She turned and walked away shouting "Laters!" back at me over her shoulder. I laughed and walked towards Sociology (which was about two doors away).

- Period 1 - Sociology -

It is possibly worth noting that Sociology is about society. It is also worth noting that everyone in my class is nothing close to an ideal society would approve of. I sit at the front of the class and generally get ignored when it comes to the hard questions which is good for me. On the downside Mr Jackson does not remember my name or, on the rare occasion he does, has a habit of explaining the history of the name "Aidan". Today was a rare occasion. He remembered my name and was obviously so distracted he couldn't be bothered to give me a history lesson. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

I was the first one in class (after the two nerds Charlie and Olga that is) and, as I sat down in the most uncomfortable chairs possible, I watched the masses (very loose use of the term, a full class was only fifteen people and that happened once in a blue moon) enter the room. Goths, pretty people, popular people and the obligatory two loose people entered in many different ways. Chantal and Damien of the Goths shuffled in, Tanya, Jake, Carl (who insisted on being called Carlos) and Kira of the pretty people seemed to somehow float majestically, Jamie, Karla, Claire and Joe of the popular people walked a short distance, stopped to talk to someone or hug someone (including me scarily enough). Meanwhile Tina and Liam of the loose group just walked in trying to simultaneously hide hangovers and try to look as sexy as they possibly could before ten in the morning.

Jackson was clearly staring as Tina's wiggling arse and tried to hide the fact by attempting to drink coffee but failed to hide it from Tina herself. He spat half of it out as she bent over to pick the pen up she "accidentally" dropped. Yes, my teacher is a pervert and everyone knew it. Everyone except him that is, he protests that its natural curiosity and nothing more. However, natural curiosity ends and perversion begins when he begins to check out the staff as well.

Once we were all seated (a not so easy task) Jackson stood and began his class. Now, Jackson is a nice guy, a pervert yes but a nice guy none the less. When he's not forgetting my name or teaching me history he is taking time to explain things to me (though I'm sure that's just an excuse for him to not answer his wife on the mobile). However, he can never stop giving examples of his life in class and rarely do these examples not include sex.

"So, last lesson we discussed how there are now substitutes to the nuclear family as defined by Murdock. Now today we are going to discuss what these substitutes are." Said Jackson finally "So, does anyone have anything we can start on here? Any ideas, suggestions, maybe a family type that doesn't follow the definition?" Silence loomed in the classroom. You could hear the noise made by the pretty people as they literally scratched their head trying to be intelligent (no easy feat). The door suddenly opened and in walked two prime members of the scally group. Dean and Kev. Something has to be said about these two, they are intelligent (if car theft were a GCSE they would have both got A* and a hundred per cent) but god only knows how they got into sixth form. However, they are here and I try to avoid them and their cohorts all I can.

"Alright La!" Shouted Dean to Jackson smacking him on the back (I'm sickened to think were that hand was before Jackson's back) "Hows ya bird doin', sir?"

"Your late already. Sit down." Replied Jackson going red.

"Ah Dean! Looks like Sir ain't on the Mrs' good side!" Laughed Kev like some deformed Hyena.
"Ah Sir! What ya done now? Or ya jus losin ya touch, ya know what I mean La!" Cackled Dean. Jackson was going redder and redder, these guys couldn't take a hint. They had the mental capacity of a decomposing apple and would probably be one of the few people who'd go home and look down the barrel of a gun to see what it looked like when the bullet fired. The other one would probably view this as a failed attempt and put the gun to their eye just to make sure they catch the action.

"Okay... erm... lads... Sit down and don't be late next time." Jackson said, ignoring them and regaining some semblance of composure. They had probably reached some form of the truth. An ex-loose group member, Jackson never lost his touch, he was renowned for cheating on his wife and even she knew it. They were both as bad as each other, while he was off with his bits on the side (if this was a meal then he'd have more side orders that main course) he believed his wife was at home quietly watching Coronation Street. However she was off doing exactly what he was doing and ten times worse. She had been with a large proportion of the male population of Liverpool University (or so the rumours state.)

"So, has anyone got any substitutes for the nuclear family then?" Asked Jackson, he looks maliciously at Kev and Dean who were, not so secretly, listening to an iPOD (my bets are that its stolen). He clearly sensed an opportunity for revenge. "Kevin, can you tell me one substitute for the nuclear family?" Kev looked startled.

"Ah, yeah, alright sir! Erm, single women count don't they?" Said Kev, he sounded as cocky as ever.

"I think you mean 'single parent' but yes, most 'single parent' families are headed by women. Now can you tell me what one is?" He looked slyly at them (he was possibly enjoying this more than Mrs Jackson).

"Well, yeah, they're when ya go out and shag some bird without a condom and she gets knocked up and don't use the pill quick enough. Then she shags so many blokes she dunno who the Dad is and is stupid enough keep it." He sounded proud of himself but nothing prepared him for the barrage of insults that followed. That and the barrage of stationary being hurled by the female population of the class.

"You chauvinist arse hole shit!" Shouted Chantal throwing a hardback book at his head. "Its because of guys like you that we women had to bloody work our arses off to vote!" I thought she would be alone, I was very wrong. Every female member of the class was shouting and throwing things directed at him. However, some of these girls aim fell short (or sometimes long) hitting other innocent bystanders (or me).
"All right! All right!" Shouted Jackson as Kev fled the room with Dean laughing like a small child at him. Kira threw a pen at him and it hit him directly on the head. It did the trick and shut him up. "Okay, next time he makes a comment like that, ladies, please take the high road and ignore him. Now, back to the subject itself. Can someone, maybe even one of you ladies seen as you are so keen to get your point across, define what a dingle parent family is without incurring anymore female wrath or violent feminist views." The room remained silent. Clearly no one, not even me, wanted to give the girls anymore reason to be violent towards them. Even the girls didn't want to answer in case they were turned upon. There was only one group who had nothing to lose. The nerds.

"A single parent, or a lone parent family, is a family consisting of one or more dependant children living with only one parent. This is most commonly the mother but in some cases can be the Father." regurgitated the walking textbook otherwise named Olga. It is many peoples belief that Olga could be at the very least unattractive (that is if Disney movies were correct and under the frizz and glasses lay a Greek goddess) if she at least washed daily instead of monthly and didn't have the muscle mass of a steroid pumped bodybuilder. With both of those things she was just ugly. Overall she looked like the genetic product of a dominatrix and a poodle spliced together.

"Um, that's very good Olga. Just a moment please." A pause followed as he looked through the text book to just check that was right. "Yes, that is correct, yes, now, I want you to turn to page fifty nine of your text books and make notes on the rise in single parent families. Also, attempt the questions on page sixty." And with that he stopped talking, the first lesson of the day was a nightmare for him, even more so if Olga and Charlie were in it. Renowned for knowing everything about a class some teachers question why they even bothered to come to class at all. However, they not only knew the answers but made the teachers sweat (hell for the pupil on the front row) when answering, it was a nightmare situation were every teacher doubted his or her knowledge and was forced to actually check the information in the text book.

I sat doing the work and reading the notes till the bell went and Mr Jackson once more commanded out attention. "I want the notes and questions in for tomorrow please! If anyone sees Dean and Kevin please pass this onto them, I think its important for their lives that they do this work and not repeat that answer in the exam. Class dismissed." A vibrating sound came from his desk and Jackson looked visibly terrified, he mouthed something and went into the top draw of his desk and pulled out a mobile phone. Everyone, including me (excluding Charlie and Olga), stopped to watch this phone call, hoping it was his wife and that they could witness some marital fight that would delay next lesson. I had a library study anyway, I wasn't missing anything so I stood and waited pretending (very badly) to be rearranging my file (its an idea that when pretending to do this that you actually open your file). I wasn't disappointed. As soon as he answered I could hear a tinny voice shouting words that we couldn't really hear.

"Hunny, I've got a class... Hunny, please, can we talk about this later? No? What! I don't know how they got there! Are you sure they aren't yours? Well how do you know for sure? Oh, so they have the name Karen sewed into them then? Hunny, you're breaking up! Sorry, I can't hear you! Hello!" He made crackling sounds and quickly hung up the phone looking at us. The blush must have began somewhere by his legs and grown fast because his face was getting redder. The vibrations started again. He grabbed the phone and his jacket and walked out of class (past a troubled set of younger students who were his next class). Kira and Karla joined forces and laughed hysterically at what they had just heard as we all walked out of class. Today looked like it wouldn't be so bad after all.

- Period 2 - Library Study -

Ah, the Library (again, I use the term very loosely) is a small room with a few desks and even fewer books. The computers barely ever work and the Librarian is not the stereotypical old woman who shouts at you for sneezing. Instead we have Mr Smyth. This old frail skeleton is long past retirement age but despite this he continues to work in school.

I sit down and get books out, I intended to do some English but in Library Study, although compulsory, not much study is actually done. I waited knowing some of my friends would join me soon. Well, I was hoping at least someone would be joining me soon. I sat waiting. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes.

As I sat there contemplating actually doing some work in walked my saviour. Jane Murdock, year thirteen student, daughter of an ex-singer turned cocaine snorting model and an ex-business tycoon turned convicted criminal, was weird. No other word could describe this "pretty" person who had titled herself an "outsider" like me. She was completely schizophrenic and everything about her was a contradiction. She was a devoted Christian who dated the only Satanist in the British army, she was anti-drinking but somehow managed to get drunk every weekend, she could be your best friend or your worst enemy at any given time. She was never the same person for that long, always changing. One of the reasons she was my friend, it kept things interesting between us.

"Hey Aid Baby!" Bellowed Jane "And how are you this fabulous day?!" It was now clear today that Jane was happy, bubbly and had a voice like a razorblade, so sharp it could cut your wrist open. To much and you'd be dead.

"Temporarily deaf now but I'll get over it, how're you and more important how is your Satanist boyfriend?"

"Both of us are fabulous! Had the best sex ever last night! Even better than last time!"
"Thank you Jane, I don't need details. The ones you gave me last week create an accurate picture enough." Another thing about Jane, she over shared, no matter what it was about she over shared. Most of the time it was about Wayne's, he Satanist boyfriend, and her sex life (hard to believe that most people believe her "I'm still a virgin line").

"So, Aidan, how's life going for you? Haven't seen you in ages!" She squealed her last word like a turkey being strangled. She was my friend but I wished it was happening to her, the voice was a bit too much.

I looked at my watch, only only another twenty five minutes left.

"You saw me yesterday Jane..." I said, hoping she might respond in a deeper voice.

"I know! Silly me! But I mean, come on, a lot can happen in one day right? I mean, Wayne has got ten times better at -"

"Cute Jane, very cute, am glad you told me." I rushed in.

"But I -" She began.

"Jane, you tell me anymore about yours and Wayne's sex life and I will have to gag you. Please, don't make me do that. Now can we talk about something other than Wayne?"
Jane pouted. She was good at pouting. It made a lot of people turn to putty in her hands. She was also annoying when she pouted. Almost as annoying as Carmen Sternwood saying "aren't I cute?" and losing her clothes all the time in "The Big Sleep" by Raymond Chandler. One thing both people shared was their ability to lose their clothes when they wanted something, Jane however believed that no one knew this. Carmen repeated the word "cute", Jane just pouted. She pouted when she needed an extension on her coursework last month, she pouted when she wanted a car for her eighteenth, she pouted when Wayne was contemplating breaking up with her. She got what she wanted in each case. Jane was an award winning pouter.

She stopped pouting, a light turned on somewhere in her head, her face ruffled as she tried to form the words. Then it became obvious. Karla. Jane's worst enemy and all-round good girl with hardly any flaws. Perfect looks, perfect mind, perfect ideas, perfect everything. She had a literal halo floating around her head. It was a rotating sign that read "perfect". She was dating the dimmest yet most popular male in the six form, Matthew. I had never quite figured out how he became popular, nor how he managed to gain enough GCSEs to get into six form. I didn't like either of them and, like Jane, enjoyed hearing anything that brought the most irritating and boring couples into a sceptical light.

"Oh, ok, well, now you mention it I have some fabulous news that made me giggle so hard! It's about Karla and her boyfriend Matthew!"
I shifted in my seat. "Oh? Ok, go on" I said, trying to not sound too relieved. If I did, she didn't seem to notice.

"Well. Apparently her and Matthew were getting a little too comfortable in her house and her family walked in! Matthew screamed louder than her! I was laughing so much! And she claims to be a virgin!"

I remained without comment and she went quiet waiting for me to respond. This went on till the end of the lesson. I eventually said "oh, is that the time" and walked out. An interesting thing about Jane, she will forget she told me this piece of information in an hour or so and repeat it to me again.
© Copyright 2006 emoscum (emoscum88 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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