Warning: Sleeping, dandruff, fire - smoking - cigarette, sexual references, lavatory.

There's a clock on the wall, it was large and bright, a black clock arm spun around.

It read quarter to eight.

Remus moved and sat next to Virgil, who lit his shoe on fire and lifted it up to a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it on fire.

He took a puff, watching the shoe burn, then held out his cigarette to Remus who smiled thankfully and shook his head. Remus would never admit it, but he's never smoked cigarettes.

Roman rested his chin on the palm of his hand, then it slipped moving up to his temple, stretching his eyelid, day dreaming about the quiet boy at the back of the class.

He would never admit it out loud, especially with his status, but he found the boy to be quite cute. Weird, but cute.

Logan subtly watched Patton and thinking some not so nice thoughts about Hart's body and a bed. He crossed his legs and subtly took off his jacket, placing it over his lap.

Patton sighed looking down, playing with his jacket bored, pulling in the strings roughly, scrunching up the hood.

Janus pulled a loose piece of thread from he his jacket and began pulling it around his now ungloved finger, cutting off blood circulation and making it turn purple.

Virgil still stared at his burning shoe, but Remus put the flames out with a smack so the fire didn't get out of hand. He kicked up his feet and brought out a nail file and began filing his nails. Virgil watched him in hidden fascination.

Virgil watched and began playing air guitar, and Remus smirked, joining in and playing air drums.

Janus began drawing on the desk with a few black fine liners. It was all line, of a river and a bridge, with a few trees and a sky and clouds.

Patton made a paper triangle football, drawing a dog face on it and flicking the piece of paper. Patton silently cheered for himself, making himself dainty and then tough and neutral and- yeah, he gently dropped his hand on the table and looked down.

Roman took out his compact mirror and fixed the powered and foundation he wore, secretly glancing at Janus, daydreaming about taking the male on a date.

Logan looked away from Patton down to his sheet of paper, then took out his pen and began writing a rap, or poetry. To be fair it could be either in Logan's eyes.

Janus smirked and took his hat off, ruffling his hands through his hair, letting dandruff fall from his scalp onto his picture like snow, feeling proud of himself.

The room was hot and Logan soon felt himself dropping his pen on the desk, Virgil moved onto the desk and Remus soon followed. Janus felt himself slumping, Roman's head slowing sliding down his arm and Patton sunk in his chair.

Mr. Sanders walked in a while later and froze.

Virgil was laying on the table, with Remus in his arms, the two asleep.

Roman's head was resting on his right arm, that was on the table, also asleep.

Patton's head was resting on his shoulder and had slid down in his seat, asleep.

Logan's head was on his backpack, as if it was a pillow, his hand on the back of his neck and leg on the desk, asleep.

Janus was sat, slumped in his chair, head hanging low and his hat covering his face, asleep.

"Wake up!" Thomas yelled, but nobody budged, but now were awake. He waited for a second and nothing happened.

"Who has to go to the lavatory?" He tried again.

Simultaneously, all six hands shot up.