Darcy couldn’t tell you what the teacher had been talking about. He had started off listening, but the droning voice going on and on was enough to put him to sleep, or pull out his phone to carefully send texts and scroll through social media. He’d find someone later to get any notes, nothing to worry about. The following weren’t any better. Darcy could probably think of a hundred and one things he would rather be doing. At least he hadn’t been called on all morning. Maybe his sarcastic remarks and smartassery were finally getting through.<br/><br/>The lunch bell was a saviour. Lunch was gossip time, a chance to socialize, and make sure the rank order was still being upheld. Darcy and his crew always sat at the same table, near the windows, perfect sunny spots on the good days. There had been a few instances when some newer student had made the mistake of sitting there, they quickly learned to avoid it after that.<br/><br/>The room was slowly filling as students trudged from their classes, and the noise followed right away. Darcy sat with his back to the windows, one hand playing with his straw as he watched the room like a hawk, the seats around him filling apart from one right next to him, and one straight across.