Michelle's POV

Something hit me on the head. I turned in my seat to look at the moron behind me, who raised his eyebrows and grinned. Jack was stupid. He and Andrew were always throwing things around. Mostly they were harmless, cracking jokes and tossing paper balls at people's heads. Sometimes they were crazy, swallowing soap and flipping people over. Jack had the hiccups, so he'd probably just raided the soap containers in the toilet.

Marriot popped into the empty seat next to me.

"Where's Mr Bellevard?" She asked, clutching her books to her chest as if she was afraid someone would nick them and chuck them in the toilet. In this place; very likely.

"Probably late," I answered, flipping through the pages of my textbook for something interesting to read. French wasn't ever boring. None of the other subjects were. But I liked French because I excelled at it, and Mr Bellevard was the best teacher I'd had in year 7. The other subject just weren't boring because of all the crazy people pulling stupid stunts in classrooms.

"Gum?" Marriot held a small wrapper with half a wad of chewing gum.

"I'll pass." I didn't like gum, and Marriot was an airhead, and I suspected it was from the excessive amount of gum she chewed.

"Alright," she popped the rest in her mouth.

Was I the only person in French who actually paid attention to what the teacher was trying to say?

Just then Mr Bellevard stumbled into the room covered in pencil sharpenings.

"Sorry I'm late class. There was a pencil shaving contest in the hall."

I raised an eyebrow. 'You don't say?' I said silently.

Marriot burst out laughing, and Andrew started giggling and making armpit fart noises from across the room. Jack joined him. Soon the whole class was in an uproar again, finding classroom equipment to throw at each other and slapping each other, pushing over tables and chairs that got in their way. Marriot just sat there filming and I opened my diary under the table and scribbled down the words;
French was a disaster today. Mr Bellevard was covered in pencil shavings. Classroom fight(what's new).
Then I closed it again because Marriot was leaning against me. I felt as if my shoulder was about to be ripped off.

"This," she pointed to her phone, which was playing a recording of Andrew getting smacked in the face by a textbook, and falling off the table, only to get back up again with a huge grin plastered on his face, and a French textbook for a hat. "Is the best video EVER!"

She squealed and rushed off to show Marianne and April. Gary collapsed into the seat where Marriot had been sitting seconds before, then got up again and leapt onto Jack. I peeked into my diary again. The school year had nearly ended, and nothing had changed. Nearly every entry started with;
Class was a disaster today. Classroom fight.

This was a school of Chaos.