Chapter 4 – Literature Class

Chapter 4 – Literature Class

Dull. That was the one word to describe everything his first class was. Mrs Flung was a 60-year-old woman who was not sexy at all and looked dull. She taught the subject of traditional English literature that was, most of the time, dull. The book they were speaking about today was about the bombardments of the Nazis and spoke about how the grey of the clouds was a good sign as rain meant that the planes wouldn’t come. Interesting topic but Mrs Flung managed to make that dull as well. Her voice drew out the syllables and blended everything into a slurry.

John passed the time by using Observe on everyone in the classroom, especially the hot girls. There were plenty of those around. Being a private school with limited access, most of the people here came from wealth and had been well-nurtured. He actually was one of the poorer people around. His father was an engineer, which was a position that paid well, but it couldn’t quite compare to bankers and car dealership owners.

His seat was in the back of the class, next to the window. Prime position to go unnoticed by his classmates and the short-sighted teacher. He tapped away the Observe windows as he opened them, reading the titles, and finding out nothing new. Halfway through the Class, the Skill levelled up.

Observe Lvl 3: Now reveals how friendly a person is towards you.

Interesting, but also pretty sobering. He looked at the hot girls in his class again and none of them were higher than 10 on a scale that went from -200 to 200. The few that were above 0 were known as the generally nice girls. They probably had higher scores with everyone else.

John sighed silently. Nothing unexpected here. He wanted girls to like him, but between Vanessa poisoning the well and his own awkwardness there were no chances of that happening. Video games wouldn’t disappoint him like people that ‘didn’t have time for him’. His computer would remain his solace. To be fair, he enjoyed his solace a lot.

He looked outside the window. There was not much use in paying attention to class. He had read the book already and with his high Intellect he would be able to recollect most or all of the answers to the questions Mrs Flung could fling at him anyway. She knew that, he knew that, he usually got a good grade in this class and they both moved on with their life.

From where he sat he had a nice overview of the school’s courtyard, including the large sports field. It was summer and one of the indoor halls was closed for renovations. That left multiple classes out and about, running laps, playing football, or doing general athletics.

The only interest that John could muster for sports came from the way the women moved as they exercised. Young ladies, working up a sweat as their bodies heated up under the sun. Their white shirts slowly became more transparent. Yet, they kept on moving. Breasts swayed with every step. Delicious bubble butts shifted, clad tightly by yoga pants. The fantastic juiciness of the female behind went through all stages of relaxation and tension, trembles moving up from their deliciously sculpted thighs and...

‘Level 4 Sports Fan’ ‘Level 3 Heiress of the candle shop’ ‘Level 5 Closet Pervert’ ‘Level 2 Fat dumb dude’, last of which he envied because he actually got to be down there. Then he stopped envying him as Frank and his goons descended on him.

To John’s surprise, somebody stepped in. A stunning redhead with green eyes. She was vaguely familiar. If he recalled correctly, she always entered the bus a few stops after him. Today, he had missed that, since he was too busy reading up on his mechanics. He hadn’t known that she was brave enough to stand up to the local king of the jocks. She gave them a sternly worded piece of her mind.

He was too busy staring at her status to follow her words in detail.

Lady Moira Brighton, Lvl 17

<Warden of the Golden Rose>

Instinctively he fired an Observe at her. A mistake. A hot pain shot through his brain, settling in his optical nerves, before fading away. The redhead noticed that something was up, stopping her lecture of the disinterested bullies. Her head turned in his general direction.

“JOHN NEWMAN!” Just as he cancelled the spell, the unusually loud voice of Mrs Flung shouted at him.

“Y-yes, I am very sorry.” He apologized immediately. “I z-zoned out, what is it?” The defence that he had been in two places at once wouldn’t fly. The class laughed at his expense. Nothing unusual there.

Mrs Flung ignored it, like the teachers usually did. “Please, read page 175 for the class.”

“Of course.” He flipped through the pages, glancing outside the window for a moment as he did. He could have sworn there was a single person, distanced from the rest of the students and teachers, looking up at him.