I already know how to speak and write. -open-

[chelsea]

Bryn's AP Chem homework was sitting on her binder. It was done, but more entertaining than any English class could ever be. Bryn wasn't bad at English, she was just better in classes with less gray-area. Classes like math and science. Maybe it was because English was such an easy class to make stuff up in. In English she could spend forty five minutes on a paper filled with stuff that was completely made-up garbage and get an A, whereas in her Calculus class she had to do her work thoroughly and correctly in order to do well. Bryn appreciated classes that didn't make it easy to exceed in. Those were the classes worth her time, not a class where the teacher drones on and on about the structure of a sentence.

That is what was currently happening too. Rhetorical devices? Who really cares about any of that? Bryn could grasp wanting to study what the author meant or things that could be read between the lines, but the likeliness that the author was sitting at a desk and thinking about any rhetorical devices was little to none. Bryn fixed a pin in her hair and traced the detailing on her pink binder. She noticed everyone picking up pencils to write something down, she quickly picked hers up and looked around. After a few moments she gave up trying to figure out what everyone was writing down and went back to looking over her Chemistry work. She sighed, wishing for some form of distraction.

Word Count: 287
Tagged: No one
Outfit: here.
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[JEREMY TORNONE]

Jem was having an off day. It was one of those days in which his ability to pay attention enough to entertain the class was null. There was no point. With their English teacher, the class was beyond help anyway. Why did it have to be so boring? If he were teacher, he'd dance or something, while talking. Then, he'd have everyone's undivided attention. After dozing off for a good ten minutes, his eyes came back to focus enough to look around the room. Scanning for something, anything to stay awake, his eyes caught Bryn George, who was clearly paying no more attention than he was.

Well, she'll work, he thought as he ripped a piece of crumbled paper out of his barely used English notebook. The whole notebook had more doodles than words that even related to English on it's pages. He naturally had no appropriate writing utensil on him with the exception of half of an orange crayon that he had kept in one of his pants' pockets and had gone through the washing machine. With the orange crayon wax, he scribbled in a legible note.

Mr. Kurland's shirt is untucked on top of his third belt buckle to the left.

If the guy wanted people to pay any attention to him, the least he could do was to make himself look presentable. Jeremy could be distracted by nearly anything, and that damn piece of shirt sticking out was driving him off the wall.

He folded the paper and wrote TO BG

[/b] on the front flap. He had established a long time ago that if he were to ever communicate with Bryn, that her nickname would be BG. Quickly, he put the note between two of his fingers before tossing it accurately to the unsuspecting girl's desk, which was located a couple desks diagonally forward from his. He often passed notes in all his classes so he rarely got the note to the wrong person. [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size]