Bubble Gum Kisses

**Kapittel 30** ***Vanessa***

**"I do now, Mr. Mosbey,"** Friso said that shocked me, and here I thought he was going to recoil and return to his original class while I could get to spend my classes peacefully unless we were classmates in my other classes. I looked over in his direction and saw displeasure on his face, his smirk was gone and changed into a frown.

"Is that so?" Mr. Mosbey asked, his face wincing. It was obvious that he didn't expect such a response from Friso.

"I just got approval from the principal, guidance counselor, and registrar today, sir," he replied, now his face smeared the same annoying smirk that I wanted to punch away earlier. "I've actually applied last week," he added, and I saw his eye twitch. I knew that mannerism. That only happened when he was lying!

"I see. Hand it over, please," Mr. Mosbey asked, his gaze unamused. My seatmate obediently did. The latter simply took out a sheet and card from his pocket and handed it over to the instructor's large, thick hand. I stared at the sheet of paper and card, he said that he applied to change schedules last week but his eye twitched, meaning he was lying. Did that mean he decided to change schedules for a day earlier this week such as today?! But that couldn't be today, right? There's a process in crucial things such as that.

All the while that Friso was strutting back to his seat, I glanced over his chair and noticed that he didn't have anything in it. Compared to most of us who had our materials sprawled in our area, Friso's table was slate clean and so was his chair. There was nothing in it, as in nothing. Nada. There was no bag, let alone a pen. I didn't dare think it'd be a habit by the students around here since they were consistent and mature so far. But of course, there'd be a rotten egg among a dozen. Hopefully, he wasn't one now since he was a competitive student in middle school.

I averted my eyes back to the front when he was coming near. Since he looked so confident with that smug look on his face as he strutted arrogantly, did that mean he was really approved to change classes? Was that even possible?! Dread began to creep into my skin as I tapped my fingers in nervous contempt. Gosh, did this mean I would be enduring a class with his presence beside me all semester long?! Knowing how he hated me, and how he changed into someone I longer knew from years ago, there'd be a possibility that he'd torment me! Not to mention this hammering guilt in me thinking that him becoming who he was right now was a consequence of my actions.

Also, I couldn't afford distraction right now, especially since I was after high scores on my test scores. Maybe I had a way out of his wrath? Talk things out? Remembering our little reunion days ago was a kicker that I was not prepared for that yet, and I still wasn't!

Through my peripheral vision, I could see him looking at me with that very sardonic expression from earlier. I could almost roll my eyes. With the haughty way, he was acting right now, my remorse had flushed down drained, and turned into irritation. Way to ruin my already ruined morning.

Meanwhile, Mr. Mosbey inspected the sheet thoroughly, like he was going through every detail before sighing, nodding, raising his clipboard, and scribbling something on it. I raised a brow at his reaction. It seemed to me that he knew Friso was a spoiled brat who constantly had things his way, and the school was letting it be. There were a few events I witnessed where Friso made things go his way, also add what Angie had texted me nights ago. Maybe it was because of his parents' background? I heard from the twins once that his mother was a fashion designer, and his father was a business tycoon. They even said that he was featured on a television show with his father once, but I didn't ask him or search about it since he seemed to be flustered when teased about it by his peers. I think that was also the reason why he hated the spotlight. If my speculations were right, then where was the integrity this school was bragging about?! "Gosh," that was what I could only mumble out of my breath due to frustration.

"Uh-uh-oh, Friso," Mr. Mosbey hummed when Friso was about to go back to his seat beside me. The latter looked at him with a wince, as if he was going to ask: 'What is it now?'

"That's Mr. Sanders' usual seat," the former continued, pointing at the chair beside mine.

"I traded seats with him today... sir," Friso replied.

"Was it consensual?"

"Well..." he trailed off and glanced at Sanders, who immediately got the message.

"Yes, Mr. Mosbey!" the poor guy replied at the top of his lungs. "I always liked this spot anyway!" he added, and I could bet a hundred that his voice resonated around the halls.

"I was gonna save your butt, and kick Friso's but since you said yes..." Mr. Mosbey paused for a bit for another sigh as Friso took his seat. "Okay then."

He then set his clipboard down on the teacher's table and grabbed a thick, hardcover book that was as thick as an encyclopedia. He opened the textbook and sprawled a few pages before lowering his face until it was completely concealed by the thick cover. Silence slowly entered the classroom. I gulped. What was happening? I looked around and saw that my classmates' reaction to the silence was blasé, and were flipping the pages of their respective books.

"Hi, guys!" Mr. Mosbey's voice boomed once again, much to my surprise. Now his head was no longer covered by the book, his face wearing a supremely wide smile that all corners of his face stretched, and his eyes forming like a crescent moon. "Soooo, today's going to be another video about American History. We get to talk about things again on the Civil Rights Movement like how it started with a woman who refused to give her bus seat to a Karen!

If you wanna see more content about boring stuff like men traveling around the world saying they're 'looking for spices' but ended up killing natives and stealing gold or how a hookup became a national scandal, then hit like and click subscribe!" he said in a high-pitched voice as if he was a vlogger in another generic YouTube vlog. Everyone laughed at his impersonation, including me. It was a great way to start the class. Now I felt a bit better. "Also, welcome to the class, Miss Hathern," he said in his normal voice and looked over my way, "And de Vries." He then looked over Friso's way. "So! Per our previous lesson..." he started the class and began discussing Claudette Colvin and the Civil Rights Movement.

Seeing that everyone was all on every word coming out of Mr. Mosbey's mouth, I hastily took my book out of my bag and grabbed a highlighter and pen. The lesson had gone deeper and deeper as the levels of my interest heightened, I highlighted key points and wrote details about them on the margin of the texts. Tedious as it may be, I needed to do this so it'd be easier to cover the lessons when I review them and make good summaries in my notebook. I was too immersed in my current activity when my shoulders suddenly felt heavy. I looked over to my right and realized that an arm wrapped was dangling from it.

I already knew who owned it, and oh boy, he was not getting me in this. Not when I was studying. I am deadest on graduating from my last year in high school with above-average grades. I needed to get into a good school that could offer me a scholarship. Choosing the most logical way to keep him out of my hair, I ignored him and kept on doing my thing.

Pretty much adamant on the lesson, just as my focus was sinking on the discussion the weight suddenly shifted and my shoulder had become heavier. It was not just that, now someone's breath was fanning over my ear. This was completely bothering me.

Brought by the surge of boiling irritation in my nerves, I bit my lower lip hard that my front teeth felt like sinking into my pliable flesh. I tried to make myself go back on track but I just couldn't! The weight on my shoulder was making it difficult to write, highlight and annotate, and the brusque breath was tickling my ear!

Having it enough, I straightened my back and grudgingly glanced at the perpetrator with a deathly glare. Friso. He was sitting close beside me that we were at an inch's length, his arm wrapped around my shoulder and his face leaning close to my book. I looked over at his table.

Gosh, he didn't have a book?!

Right. I did see earlier that he didn't bring his knapsack and other school-related stuff with him, but he didn't even bring his books? It would be reasonable enough that he hid them in his locker, but shouldn't it be obligatory for him to go and get them? Surely there was a pass for it from what I read in the school book.

Back in middle school, he wouldn't miss bringing the books he needed for class. An over-the-top-cream-of-the-crop student such as himself wouldn't want to get grades lower than a B-, especially since his parents were keeping their eyes on his academic performance. What happened to him these past 3 years? Maybe he wasn't as academically competitive as he used to be?

I couldn't understand this guy. This must be my fault as well.

**

Thank you for reading Bubble Gum Kisses! To keep up with my works, future works, and endless frustrations on Twitter: https://twitter.org/RiosMorpheus**