Nodding slowly I moved the hair on my neck, getting fidgety. “Yes. They’re tattoo artists.” I told him, silently patting myself on the back for my clever use of the word ‘they’re’ so he wouldn’t know if they are, or they were. Good thing this isn’t English class.  World History teachers don’t care all that much about grammar unless it’s a report.

“Hmpf.” He said and walked off.Finally.  He then instructed showed us a power point about the Chernobyl Radiation Disaster. Luckily in I’ve learned about this already so I didn’t have to really pay attention, I just ignored everyone glancing back at me every six seconds. Mr. Porter then assigned a beautiful group activity, to make a presentation about the disaster. Luckily I didn’t have to sit there awkwardly while everyone picked their friends, because he had assigned partners, and just put me in a random group.

My two group partners were Rose and Adam, and I could tell from the start this wasnotgonna work out. First off, Rose was this preppy girl who was way too interested in me, and Adam was a giant nerd who ignored anything I said and just did what he wanted. “Do you think we should make it like a newspaper announcement?” He asked in a soft voice, while Rose interrupted him with a question about California. I looked at her and held up one finger with a slight smile, and looked back to him.

“Yeah, that sounds cool, but I bet that’s what everybody’s doing. Maybe it can be like a television interruption, put everything in squares like it would be on the TV.” I suggested, trying to be creative. Adam nodded and began writing stuff down, which seemed to be listening to me, for once. “Hey Rose, I’ll answer your questions later okay? “ I told her, trying my best not to roll my eyes.

I have a very low tolerance for people, and am very irritable, so practically everything gets on my nerves. Currently, Rose wasn’t getting me in the greatest mood. On the other hand, the progression of this project with my help was going pretty well.  Adam researched a little bit more about it, while I drew old style TV’s that looked to be in a giant storefront. God bless my natural drawing ability do to both of my parents. Since Rose wasn’t doing jack shit I told her to color the outside of the TV’s a dark gray, and the knobs a light gray. “Why do they look so old?” She asked, not hiding the disgust in her voice.

Stopping what I was doing I looked at her with a blank expression on my face, attempting to think before I spoke. I have the tendency to not think before I speak the reasoning behind my normally incredibly rude and blunt comments. “It happened in the 80’s, and I doubt that people in Chernobyl had the same TV’s as we did at the time, so they look older.”Lord help me.

The End

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