gently grabs her hands, waiting for an answer.
"You are making me a favor," I speak.
It would be really a favor if she has asked for me to leave but she always does the same to every student who isn't paying attention. She gets a little bit offended about the fact that nobody is interested in how she is trying to communicate her knowledge to teenagers that only are into pot and sex, from which I was told. I have never done any of those so I am not even a part of the group of teenagers I am making in my head.
"What do you mean? Don't make me call the principal, Von Steemberg," Ms. Morgan claims and I feel a little bit threatened because probably she knows that I've had a row with him days ago and they spoke about it and now she wants to scare me, whatever. I really don't care about anything at this moment of my life.
I remain silent until I gather myself up in order to be able to say something to her. I say that it's okay, that I am sorry and that it won't happen again and pretend that I am now paying attention because sincerely, I don't want to face Mr. Abernathy ever again in my entire life.
• • •
Hours pass and teachers come by and walk away and I still don't know what I have been taught in the whole freaking day. I think I can't be more moved about it, literally, I feel like a cactus –piece of total useless crap— right now, a fetus, a stone, nothing; a flea is even more relevant than myself at the moment.
Suddenly, I feel a vibration on my ass left cheek and it appears to be my phone. I've decided earlier to put it on vibrate mode though I never do that, honestly.
I take it out from my pocket, with a little bit of discretion and find out that I have a new message from him. It says: OUT.
I stand up and start walking "I'm not feeling okay, I think I should be going," I tell whoever is giving the class at the moment, and without hesitation and without knowing what the hell he or she answered me, I leave the miserable class.
I know Theodore’s classes always end up first than mines because he has less workload than me and that is why I will always have to skip my last two or three classes on a regular college basis. I don't mind doing that, to be honest, I am capable of doing the impossible for him, don't ask me why.
As I walk down the corridor I realize there are not a lot of students surrounding me. Weird, considering Theodore appears to just have ended his class and his buddies or class mates should be around here somewhere.
But no, I am walking by myself and I find it absolutely strange. The corridors are always full of people running and shouting which makes me want to die since I kind of hate being among a big group of people because of the way it makes me feel; helpless. I am always by myself and if they are moving fast from a place to another it also makes me feel nauseous and wanting to pull a trigger over my head. I am being a little exaggerated, I know.
Besides the fact I find strange this no-people situation I am also mortified because I am going to see him again and I have social phobia. Whenever I am near someone I have the urge to poo, seriously.
I approach the entrance hall and, taking a deep breath, I open with kindness the big and heavy door.
There he is; standing with his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, looking like a high couture model, he could definitely model because he is tall and handsome enough to do the job. He is also lying on one side of his body by the stairs railing. I want to take out my phone and take a picture of this instant moment because, let me tell you, it’s perfect. Not really perfect, as I said before, I am that type of person that doesn’t believe in perfection, but if there was a possibility of something being “perfect”, I am sure he would be one of the group, or at least he would be even closer than Leo Di Caprio on Titanic and hell yeah, that man is sexy as hell so imagine how Theodore looks like.
I approach him gently and noiselessly
"You are making me a favor," I speak.
It would be really a favor if she has asked for me to leave but she always does the same to every student who isn't paying attention. She gets a little bit offended about the fact that nobody is interested in how she is trying to communicate her knowledge to teenagers that only are into pot and sex, from which I was told. I have never done any of those so I am not even a part of the group of teenagers I am making in my head.
"What do you mean? Don't make me call the principal, Von Steemberg," Ms. Morgan claims and I feel a little bit threatened because probably she knows that I've had a row with him days ago and they spoke about it and now she wants to scare me, whatever. I really don't care about anything at this moment of my life.
I remain silent until I gather myself up in order to be able to say something to her. I say that it's okay, that I am sorry and that it won't happen again and pretend that I am now paying attention because sincerely, I don't want to face Mr. Abernathy ever again in my entire life.
• • •
Hours pass and teachers come by and walk away and I still don't know what I have been taught in the whole freaking day. I think I can't be more moved about it, literally, I feel like a cactus –piece of total useless crap— right now, a fetus, a stone, nothing; a flea is even more relevant than myself at the moment.
Suddenly, I feel a vibration on my ass left cheek and it appears to be my phone. I've decided earlier to put it on vibrate mode though I never do that, honestly.
I take it out from my pocket, with a little bit of discretion and find out that I have a new message from him. It says: OUT.
I stand up and start walking "I'm not feeling okay, I think I should be going," I tell whoever is giving the class at the moment, and without hesitation and without knowing what the hell he or she answered me, I leave the miserable class.
I know Theodore’s classes always end up first than mines because he has less workload than me and that is why I will always have to skip my last two or three classes on a regular college basis. I don't mind doing that, to be honest, I am capable of doing the impossible for him, don't ask me why.
As I walk down the corridor I realize there are not a lot of students surrounding me. Weird, considering Theodore appears to just have ended his class and his buddies or class mates should be around here somewhere.
But no, I am walking by myself and I find it absolutely strange. The corridors are always full of people running and shouting which makes me want to die since I kind of hate being among a big group of people because of the way it makes me feel; helpless. I am always by myself and if they are moving fast from a place to another it also makes me feel nauseous and wanting to pull a trigger over my head. I am being a little exaggerated, I know.
Besides the fact I find strange this no-people situation I am also mortified because I am going to see him again and I have social phobia. Whenever I am near someone I have the urge to poo, seriously.
I approach the entrance hall and, taking a deep breath, I open with kindness the big and heavy door.
There he is; standing with his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, looking like a high couture model, he could definitely model because he is tall and handsome enough to do the job. He is also lying on one side of his body by the stairs railing. I want to take out my phone and take a picture of this instant moment because, let me tell you, it’s perfect. Not really perfect, as I said before, I am that type of person that doesn’t believe in perfection, but if there was a possibility of something being “perfect”, I am sure he would be one of the group, or at least he would be even closer than Leo Di Caprio on Titanic and hell yeah, that man is sexy as hell so imagine how Theodore looks like.
I approach him gently and noiselessly
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