I can't think of a time that I've ever begged harder.
I've begged my husband more than anyone, and then the doctor is next, and then Helen, and then everyone else.
I pleaded to get them to let me go home, but they insisted I stay until I can stand.
It's been two months and I'm home now.
When I walk, it does hurt, and if I walk far, or down or upstairs, it hurts like a bitch, but I don't tell Bradley that, because he won't let me go back to work.
Bradley hasn't been to work since I came home because he's been taking care of me.
It's first period now, Dad didn't tell the school I'm alive, and I'm coming back today, but we're late.
Bradley and Mom and Dad were arguing with me all morning because I insisted dressing my way, which consists of a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a coral t-shirt, a floral scarf with coral flowers and sky blue flowers, and sky blue toms.
I curled my hair.
"It's not too late to go home." Bradley whispers.
"I don't want to go home." I say.
"You guys!" a shrill voice yells from my classroom. "You idiots! It's so easy!"
Bradley cringes. Dad is with us.
"Permission to tell her off?" I ask angrily. Dad shrugs.
I open the classroom door and walk in.
The lady looks up.
She's old and...unattractive, and chubby, and she looks like a bitch, and I swear to god she's dressed worse than my grandmother.
I look around the room and all the students are grinning wildly.
My eyes lock on the fugly curtains she hung over my favorite window.
"What do you want?" she asks.
"What are those?" I point to the curtains. Everyone is shaking with silent laughter.
"They're curtains. Who are you, what do you want."
"They're ugly." I say.
She gasps. "I love them! Your rude!"
"Did you get them from a funeral home? Jesus, my grandmother would call those ugly."
I walk across the room and take the curtains down and toss them to her, and then I go to my desk.
"You need to leave." She huffs. "I am in the middle of a lesson." I look at the smart board.
"You called them idiots doing that?" I ask.
She looks at Dad.
"I would never-"
"She did." Justin blurts.
"I didn't! Shut your mouth! Referral!" she reaches for the stacks and I slam my hand down on them.
"Yes you did." I say. "Now leave."
"I will not! This isn't your-"
"It's my classroom. My students. My lesson. My referral slips. And my pen." I take my pen from her hand. "Now get out."
"Are you the teacher?" she asks.
"Do I look like the teacher?" I ask.
"No, you look like a teenager with an attitude. You dress like one."
YOU ARE READING
Baby Girls
Teen FictionEmma and Bradley have children and their life is starting for real this time. This is the sequel to The Whole Damn Night Sky.