Otters

Chapter 6

Above is a pic of how I picture Darien.

"Actually decided to show up in class today?" Mr. Sterlings, my statistics teacher, remarked as he walked around the room, taking attendance.

I bit down, hard, on my lower lip and clenched my hands into fists, trying my hardest not to throw a punch in the direction of his face. "Yup," I answered, popping the "p." I cracked my knuckles and leaned back in my chair. "Thought it might be interesting for once." I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Well, you're just in time for our unit test," he declared with an evil grin. He slapped a pile of packets onto my desk.

I put on a fake smile. "Oh, goody," I replied as I took a packet for myself and passed the rest back.

"Now, for our two new students, Jo and Darien, you do not have to take the test since you were not here when we covered everything. So just sit back and relax." Mr. Sterlings plopped down in his spinning chair while scratching his double chin.

I rolled my eyes at him as I pulled out a pencil to begin the test. Glancing up for a moment at Jo, I noticed Darien inching closer to her. I gripped my pencil tighter as I got angrier. "Stop looking at her like that," I mumbled under my breath before I could stop myself.

"What was that, Mr. Ryan?" the teacher called from his desk. His spectacles were down low on the bridge if his nose while he held a book in his lap.

I raised my eyebrows at him. "I didn't say anything," I lied, hunching over my desk. "Maybe you were just hearing things."

Mr. Sterlings huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. He drew his attention back down to his book, though I'm pretty sure I could see in the reflection of his glasses that he was watching porn on his phone.

I glanced down at the huge test in front of me. How the heck do I do this stuff? I wondered. I furrowed my eyebrows as I tried to work out the first problem.

My hands were getting antsy again, needing a cigarette to hold.

I glimpsed up at Jo again. Darien's hand was mighty close to her as he draped it behind her chair. I bit down on my lip, my cheeks heating up. Jo's plump red lips curled into a fake smile as Darien told her a joke. I clenched my jaw. Jo adjusted her glasses on her ears as she flipped the page in her book.

"Eyes on your own paper, Shane," Mr. Sterlings said with a stern voice.

"Sorry," I answered sarcastically, staring down at all the unsolved problems on my paper for the rest of class.

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"Frieda invited us over for dinner tonight," Momma told me as I plopped down on the couch after a long full day of school. She was still tense from what happened earlier this morning.

"Who the hell is Frieda?" I asked. I picked at a loose thread on the hem of my shirt.

"Watch your language, young man," Momma snapped at me. Her jaw tightened. I didn't like seeing her like this. It reminded me of when I was little and Dad was around.

"Sorry," I apologized. "Who's Frieda?" I pursed my lips.

"You know, Frieda Valentine, Jo's mom. You met her last night." She tossed her small handbag onto the coffee table and walked into the kitchen to sort through the mail on the counter.

I stood up and followed her inside. "Oh, her name's Frieda." I leaned on the counter with my elbows. "So do I have to look nice?" I asked.

"Look presentable."