The Teacher's Assistant

.:Chapter 2: The Tutor:.

The class began to whisper and I heard the girls giggle when Mr. Andrews gave them a flirtatious wink and smile. I sighed and rolled my eyes at them. Gosh, he wasn't that cute. Mr. Kirkland cleared his throat to catch everyone's attention.

"You guys are going to read page L143 through L193 and take notes while I grade your English papers. So if you need help with anything pertaining to English, and only English--," Mr. Kirkland sighed giving a tired look to the giggling girls, "-Mr. Andrews here will help you. Now get to work." He demanded and there was the distinct sound of shuffling as back packs were moved around and papers were taken out; then the reverberation of text books being slammed onto desks. I took out my Paul Frank © notebook and opened up my English textbook. I began reading on my alliterations and when I went to reach for my pencil I knocked it down to the ground.

"Shoot." I muttered. I scooted my chair out and reached one hand out and gripped onto my desk with the other. I began tapping around on the ground aimlessly looking for my pencil and when I did come in contact with something, it wasn't my pencil. My hand jerked back and I opened my eyes, coming face to face with someone's waist. If that makes any since.

"Are you looking for this?" The deep voice of Mr. Andrews asked. My eyes snapped from his waist and to his face which had an arrogant smirk placed on it. I felt my face heat and I scooted my chair in looking down in embarrassment.

"Yes." I muttered and he set my pencil down on my desk. "Thanks."

"No problem."

When I heard his footsteps begin to descend to another part of the room where multiple girls' hands were waving, I picked up my pencil and began jotting down my notes.

About forty-five minutes passed before I was done reading and taking notes, with twenty-five minutes to spare. I hadn't had anymore inconvenient encounters with Mr. Andrews besides the one and I was glad. I closed my textbook and reveled in the envious looks I got from finishing my work early. I put away my textbook and notebook pulling out a sketch book to replace it.

I slowly began sketching out whatever came to mind. Ten minutes passed and Mr. Kirkland's voice boomed across the classroom for the fifteen minute mark. "Fifteen minutes left. I'm going to have Mr. Andrews give back your papers so that he at least knows your name. When he calls your name say something so he knows where you are." He handed Mr. Andrews the papers and he began calling out names and walking over to the person in question. There were a few moans and a few whoops from all over the room. When he finally called my name I gave a small wave and said 'me' and he strolled over to me from the other side of the room. I wasn't worried about my grade, because I already knew I had a good one because I never fail any of my tests. So when he set my test down upside down on my desk I just ignored it and continued to doodle in my sketchbook.

Fifteen minutes later the bell rang and I closed my sketchbook and slid it back into my backpack. I grabbed my paper and flipped it over. My eyes widened and my mouth stood agape.

A big C+ was written in fierce red letters across my paper.

What. The. Hell? A C+? You have got to be freakin' kidding me. Never once have I gotten anything below an A-. I snatched my paper and backpack up and stomped over to Mr. Kirkland's desk in the front of the classroom.

"What the hell is this?" I demanded slapping the paper on my desk.

"Language Ms. Donovan. And that's your English paper." He replied glancing up at me from the bridge of his glasses.

I rolled my eyes, "No kidding. But why in the world did I get a C+? I did everything you asked for. I doubled space, the font size stayed twelve and the type stayed Times New Roman. I underlined the title and put the date, my name, and the unit and lesson number on the top right side of my paper. What else could you want from me?" I asked.