mobbing

Tuesday, 4th period. The teacher mumbled on about events long past and distant. All the good students scribbled in their notes, occasionally casting a crooked glance upward to scan the board. Somewhere in the back a few girls were whispering some incoherent gossip that was left ignored. Rain drizzled down the window, one drop joining another until it shot down the glass, on its way to join some river or ocean somewhere. A cough broke the mundane droning of class, and I thought absent-mindedly about the cold that was going around. Glancing across the room I scanned my peers’ faces. Some were intent on the lecture while others showed the tel...