“Illegal?”
“Illegal,” you repeat sipping your cosmo across the wooden booth table. Skipping grades in some states is Illegal.
“The fuck?”
“You’d be surprised. Medgar Middle does skip students, but you’ve gotta–thank you,” you nod accepting your plate in front of you and looking at his as it’s sat down. “You’ve gotta stay on their ass with a damn strong case,” you finish once the waiter leaves. “Which you have.”
“Talk to me,” he leans forward, his elbow on the table. You unravel your silverware and take your first bite after praying fast in your head.
“Eigth grade is the better grade to skip. Seventh? You’d have had a bigger problem because he’s fresh out of elementary and in need of a more subtle transition. Prince could potentially transition into 9th next year with no major issues.”
“What do I need to do?
For the next twenty minutes you walk him through a solid plan including your side of it and what you can do as Prince’s teacher.
”His biggest issue is his mouth. He’s gotta be mature enough to handle this move.“
”He know who not to mess with,“ he sips.
”Oh really? Not sure what you’ve been seeing Mr. Stevens, but his hobby per these last few months has been disrespecting his peers and teachers. That’s the kinda talk you do when no one can beat your ass. He’s about to be 5'5 in the 9th grade.“
He nods eating. ”Lil redirection, he’ll be fine. He’s lucky to have you as his teacher. Someone else prob would’ve had him suspended.“
”More than once!“
”Tell me about you. How you get into teaching?“
”Funny you ask. Kids like yours. I wanted to change their lives and get them better opportunities. It’s great when I work with parents like you, but unfortunately not all parents have the time or capacity to care.. it’s work,“ you sigh. ”I’d ask what you do, but I’m sure the entire 7th grade knows Prince’s dad is a policeman.“
”You think he’d keep it under wraps.“
”No, he’s definitely proud of his parents,“ you shift with a smirk that translates.
”He’s a snob.. I let my son become a snob..“
”He know who to hide details from..,“ you sip as he sits in reflection.
”I need to sit him down.“
”Open conversation would be nice.. and don’t yell at him just listen.“
You thought dinner with this man would be flirty, but all the two of you talked about was Prince the whole time, which was fine. You were only mildly disappointed, you still had his number and he had yours.
You carried on at Medgar, going through your lesson plan and handing back graded tests, everyday wondering if Prince would try you. He didn’t but of course another student had to take his place and you had to address the behavior. Lamar’s outbursts were made for the opposite reason Prince acted out. Lamar didn’t understand the problems and wanted them to stop, which of course, they never would. He needed a tutor and to pay attention in class. A detention would work for him and in that time he’d sit with a tutor. If he acted up in class enough, he’d be removed and sat with a tutor before being sent back to class. He had no choice. His only other option was to stop causing a disruption. It was easier to sit and listen in a room with the other kids. You ignored the occasional whispers, at least he wasn’t being disruptive. You finally had control of your classroom again.
Then a couple weeks passed and Prince came in pissed. You didn’t give it attention thinking he’d been in a disagreement with a peer until you made eye contact and he was giving you the evil eye. You noted it but moved on with your lesson. It took two days for the boy to snap and apprach your desk. He waited for his peers to filter out and slammed a note written on loose leaf paper on your desk.
You unfolded it.
You went on a date with my dad
You did, but it wasn’t like that.. or at least, it didn’t end up being like that. You’d hoped it would be like that..
Sighing you refold the note. ”Prince, your father and I met to discuss YOU and your BEHAVIOR,“ you spell out. ”We talked about you the whole time.“
”I’m not stupid, you like my dad but he’s married and he and my mom are getting back together. Stay in your lane which is off my dad’s dick. Ain’t it against policy? You ain’t ashamed?“
Quickly you remind yourself he’s a child. He’s a child. He’s a damn child.
”Prince..,“ you smile to stay in teacher mode. ”I’m not accepting the disrespect anymore. You can walk away from my desk and join your class,“ you point. ”Don’t make me have to repeat myself.“ Or you’ll have to call his sexy ass father once more to straighten things out, have mercy.
He kisses his teeth looking at you with his lip turned up, but backing off. You stick his note in your desk. You hadn’t done anything inappropriate, not yet.
YOU ARE READING
Killmonger's One-Shot Collection
RomanceBook of my short stories, which include Cruisin', Kwelanga of Days, Arguments, Three Weeks Into an Era, 24 Hours, Finger Rings, Baby Fever, On the Hotline, Can You Handle It, Strawberry Shortcake, Open Auditions, Mirror Mirror, Crowning Glory, Catf...
