Jon was fascinated by the sight of his 1st period English class. His classmates sat where they usually sat and his teacher, Mrs. Donald, stood at the front of the room like she normally would. However, unlike a regular day, every person in the room acted like they were wearing poorly fitting wool clothing.
Mrs. Donald awkwardly adjusted her skirt and blouse as she started to address the class. Beth and Jaime, the twin girls Jon knew since the third grade, spent the entire morning sitting in silence as they shakily ran their hands through their should length hair as if they wanted nothing more than to pull it out. Biff, who sat behind Jon, would randomly sit up from his seat adjust his pants before sitting down with a look of pure hatred on his face. Next to Biff, his girlfriend Sarah had a painfully serious look on her face. She kept her head locked in a forward position during the entire class. Even when directed by Mrs. Donald to look down and read, she refused to tilt her head down an inch. Her expression briefly changed from pure concentration to panic when her hand brushed against her chest as she attempted to scratch her temple. In an instant, her perfectly tan skin turned bright red.
"Alright class. I know nobody wants to be here, but that's not my problem. Trust me. I'd rather not deal with this either." Mrs. Donald shot Jon an angry glare before she continued. "Open your textbooks to chapter three. We are going to talk about Renascence literature today." Mrs. Donald turned her back to the class and began to write part of their lesson the classroom chalkboard. As she wrote, she had to stop twice to shake her skirt and awkwardly attempt to readjust her underwear. She was an attractive Irish Woman in her early thirties. Although she was as short as some of Jon's classmates, she had an attractive hourglass figure that typically covered in formfitting but modest clothes.
On Jon's right, Veronica, the class goth, casually leaned back in her chair and adjusted her jet black blouse by massaging her breasts left to right. Like Mrs. Donald's clothes, Veronica typically came to school wearing tight black shirts with low necklines and lots of lace. Every few seconds, Jon watched her attempt to prop her breasts up in her clothes then stare at them to see if they'd stay in place. After a few tries, she smirked then deliberately stretched her arms up over her head as she leaned as far back as much as her chair would allow. Jon gawked at the sight of her perfectly framed breasts but diverted his eyes in embarrassment when he realized Victoria had her eyes fixed on his.
To his left, Jon watched Tina doing the exact opposite. Tina was a petite, proper girl with long blond hair and no discernible bust. Today, she spent most of the class hunched over in her chair as continuous ran her hands from her hips to her knees, taking extra care to keep the ruffles of her navy blue skirt straight. She continued to shift in her seat and Jon watched as she tried her best to discretely adjust her underwear by pulling at the fabric of her skirt. She looked incredibly uncomfortable and Jon half-expected her to brake out in tears.
Similar looks of pain and discomfort covered the remainder of Jon's class. As the lesson went on, it was clear that no one was paying attention to Mrs. Donald lecture, not even Mrs. Donald. In-between what sounded like actually facts about Renaissance writers, Mrs. Donald interjected odd transitions and non sequiturs. She'd transition between topics by saying things like "Blah blah blah" and "Then some other crap happened, like..."
Watching everyone else made Jon kind of jealous. Yeah, everyone seemed to be in their own personal hell, but at least they had something in common.
