Students were scattered around in a very unorganized manner around the room. Some were seated conveniently on top of their desks, having formed little clusters with their respective friend groups, talking and joking loudly. Right in front of me was a circle of about five to seven people, sat on the ground with a bottle spinning in the center. It landed, with both ends pointing to two girls who went bright red at the result.
"Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her!" They were chanting, pushing a short haired blonde girl to kiss the other one, who resembled her a little too much. The guys' voices were the loudest, as if this is what they'd been looking forward to all weekend: Spin the Bottle in music class, with an extra dab of possible incest.
I noticed that a man, who looked no older than twenty five years old and who I assumed to be the teacher, was walking back and forth across the room, trying to calm the class down. But no one listened.
My jaw dropped open at the sight. What had I just walked into? Aren't senior classes supposed to be focused, hard-working and ? This one seemed to be quite the opposite.
Not one person seemed to notice my presence among the haywire of the situation, even after Damien cleared his throat a couple of times.
He shrugged to himself when it worked out to no avail and entered the room, turning to the left to pass through a door connecting the room to another. He cast me a sideways glance and a wicked grin before vanishing from view, closing the door behind him and leaving me to gape at the mess in front of me.
A pair of eyes landed on me and I tried to straighten up my posture. Closing my wide-open mouth, I regained a sense of formality as the teacher came closer. He forced a smile to his lips, tired grey eyes assessing me in the best way possible as he held out a hand.
"You must be Makayla Summers."
I nodded, glancing nervously around as I shook hands with him.
"I'm Mr. Stevenson. But you can call me Joshua. I hate it all the formalities with students."
"I can see that," I said, cocking my head towards the class. He laughed at what I was suggesting, looking a thousand times younger in the process. "Yeah, the senior class is quite a handful this year."
My smile faltered as I looked past Mr. Stevenson - whoops - Joshua's shoulder, noticing that a group of students had managed to find me in the spotlight.