Two Ways to Spell Blake

{Chapter 2}

It's my last class of the day: English. This is actually one of the classes enjoy. English and Home Ec were my favorite classes. Mainly because both teachers are young and you're allowed to eat food in one class.

My English teacher, Mr. Royce, is 26 and he is very good looking. But I tell that to no one because people would think I have a crush on him and I find that very gross and weird. I mean, who likes a guy that's nine years older than you? Anyway, Mr. Royce is writing our homework up on the board and hopefully he won't finish before the bell rings. He turns around and points to the board.

"Homework! Do it! If you don't-detention," he smiles.

I quickly copy down the homework from the board. It's not that bad. We have to write a paper on a book of our choice which happens to be my specialty. There's a knock at the door. Someone at the front of the class opens the door and reveals the last person I want to see.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Blake says. From behind him are a couple of guys who laugh and say that they'll "see him later" or "text him".

 Mr. Royce furrows his eyebrows. "You do realize class is about to end?" he says.

"Yes," Blake nods.

"Where were you?" the teacher asks.

"My schedule says English and because no one would she me exactly what English class I was in, I didn't know where I was supposed to go. I ended up in Ms. Smith's room," Blake explains.

Ms. Smith is super old, can't see, and refuses to retire. Blake probably sat in her class and she thought he was one of the idiots who skips class. As Blake continues to explain, I know I'm right.

"Alright, take a seat. And do the homework," Mr. Royce adds as Blake's eyes roam the room and come to settle on me. He smirks and saunters over to the desk beside mine which oh so happens to be empty. I glare at him but he just keeps smirking. This idiot has now ruined both of my favorite classes. Before he can say anything, the bell rings and I gather my things and leave.

After getting all my homework assignments, I walk out to my white Ford F250 truck. Remembering that I have work today, I call Matt. After an eternity, he answers.

"Don't think I got kidnapped," I what I immediately say.

There's a pause on the other end of the phone. "Why would I assume you got kidnapped?" he asks hesitantly.

"Because I won't be home to till later," I vaguely explain as my eyes scan the road.

"Ooh, did you make a friend? A guy friend?" he asks. 

Out of all the things he could ask, out of all the possibilities to why I would be home later, he had to choose that one? The one that made the least sense? 

I scrunch up my nose in disgust as I take the road to work. "No, you idiot. I have work today," I snap.

"Way to get my hopes up, BLT," he says using my nickname.

Yes, I'm nicknamed after a sandwich. My full name is Blayke Leanne Tanner. Hence the nickname BLT.

"You were going to be excited if I made a guy friend?" I raised an eyebrow before realizing he couldn't see me.

"Yeah! As long as he isn't some creepy dude," he adds.

I laugh as I pull into the Pizza Palace. "Okay, I'm hanging up now."

I work at the Pizza Palace, hangout place, unfortunately, for half the guys at FCHS. Quickly going through the restaurant and to the back where I store my uniform, I put it on. It's black and has Pizza Palace in orange over the left breast pocket. After tucking it in, I find my boss, Mr. V. That's not his real last name. His real last name starts with a V but I can't pronounce it. So I call him Mr. V.