In front of me, Bishop clenches his pencil in a tight grip. The tip breaks against his notes when he presses it to the page on purpose. An angry red flush sneaks up the back of his neck. Bishop’s knee bounces for a few seconds, then he explodes from his seat. “Mr. Bishop, you’re disrupting—” “Fuck off,” Bishop barks. “I’m out of here.”
oh i’m excited for his story
