What.
History class: the very bane of Jake's existence. It wasn't the actual content that he loathed. In fact, it was incredibly interesting! The only problem was that the information was delivered in the form of a lecture, and it was slowly growing harder to keep his eyes open. That phrase 'in one ear and out the other' was scarily accurate in this moment, and it didn't even sound like the teacher was speaking English anymore.
"English! Pay attention, please." Oh. Now they were speaking English. (Ba dum tish.) Sitting up in his seat, Jake tried to regain his focus on the lesson, glancing down at the piece of paper on which he was supposed to be recording his notes. Scratched onto the sheet were several lines of barely decipherable phrases, surrounded by shitty doodles of faces that were only partially recognizable to his sleep addled brain.
Picking up his pen again, he returned to note-taking, scribbling down something about the Reformation in chicken-scratch handwriting. It was mere seconds before he was nodding off again, before being startled back to attention by a finger tapping his shoulder. Turning towards the source, Jake blinked blearily at his classmate, mouth turned down in a grimace. "What."