Falling (BWWM Romance)

Chapter Five

Several hours later, Ella sat in her Accounting 101 class at Bent Creek College, eyes burning with much needed sleep, yet brain alive with the assurance she was doomed to fail the class. She'd always succeeded at whatever she'd endeavored to do; the hard work and effort it took to master a difficult task was part of the challenge and fun. But when it came to accounting...

This teacher is so boring. Ella took a peek around the room to see if others were as bored of his yammering as she was. Nope. She was the only one. People nodded their heads like they understood exactly what the accounting teacher was saying.

Unfortunately, Ella was lost. She wondered for the bazillionth time if she should drop the class. She realized the mistake of putting off this class until her last semester of college. It wouldn't be so bad if he talked about accounting principles—a class he was hired to teach.

But, oh no! Mr. Richards spent most of his time bemoaning his pitiful teacher's salary and the state of the economy. His next favorite subject was talking about the antics of his former employers of which there had been a slew of them.

Mr. Richards leaned back in his chair twirling a pencil. "Yeah, I took a pay cut just to take this job. When I was an accountant at..."

Ella rolled her eyes and when she looked up, Blaine West winked at her. Convinced it was meant for someone behind her, she stole a peep over her shoulder. No one his type. The majority of the class was middle aged workers already well-versed in accounting. Most were here only to get a degree for their jobs.

She faced forward again. Blaine was seated in front of her and to the left. He winked again. Quickly, she dropped her eyes, hoping like mad her face remained blank and blush free. Fellow graduates of JT Thomson High School, Blaine had never once looked her way. Fast girls oozing out of tight clothes kept him occupied. She usually saw him in the hall hugged up with a different girl every two weeks.

Granny Fanny warned her about his type many times. "All they want is one thing and you old enough to know what I'm talking about, Ella girl. Your mama didn't listen and see where it got her."

No way was he making eyes at her. Speaking of eyes, she didn't quite know what to do with her own. If she looked ahead, she could see him and if she looked down it would appear she wasn't paying attention. And Ella always paid attention in class. Just go away.

After a long drawn out tale of working for the largest furniture retailer on the east coast, Mr. Richards checked his watch and announced, "Exam next Tuesday."

Ella groaned in frustration. All the hours she put into doing the practice test and the phony man didn't even go over it. What a lousy teacher. You get what you settle for.

At the age of thirteen, she'd been offered a spot with a prestigious American ballet company, a spot that would have granted her instant fame as an African American solo dancer but fear of leaving her Granny Fanny had kept her from accepting.

She knew why. And it was a four-letter word...

F-E-A-R.

Fear.

Bent Creek College was safe, familiar, a brick structure situated on a hill she could see from her front porch from the time she came to live with Granny Fanny. The transition from high school to BCC was easy. It was like going to thirteenth grade. Looking back at what she'd turned down because of the fear of going away had cost her, in ways she was just now starting to understand.

She approached Mr. Richards just as he tossed a butterscotch into his mouth. He crunched on it not allowing it to dissolve in his mouth like ordinary people did. "Do you mind checking over my practice test? I have to admit I'm really not getting this class."

"Really? You're the only person to tell me that." Hands went into khaki pockets. He stared at her like she'd turned into a zombie. "Well, what can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you could go over problem number five with me."

He glanced at his watch. "Tonight? It's already five after eight. They don't pay overtime you know."

"Can I meet you doing your advising hours?"

He frowned. "Miss Fields, isn't it?" He nodded when she nodded. "Right...the college offers tutors for all subjects, how about you give them a try." Picking up a notebook and the textbook he never opened, Mr. Richards stepped around her and left.

She blew out a hot breath. "The nerve."

As she plodded down the hallway, somebody called her name. It was Blaine.

"Hey, Ella, what's up?" He flashed what he thought was a knee-knocking smile.

His greeting rankled her. She hated slang.

"I hear you're in need of a tutor."

"Do you have one you could recommend?" she asked warily.

A wide grin split his face. "The best."

Ella waited, he just kept grinning. The jerk; he was going to make her say it. "Who?"

He touched her shoulder a little too familiarly, causing her to step back. "Me." He whipped a sheet of paper out of his backpack and flashed it in her face. It was the last accounting exam. A huge "A+" teased from the center of it.

She looked at the exam in envy and dismay. How could a womanizing ne'er-do-well like Blaine perform better than she? She worked hard, studied harder and for what? It wasn't fair. She forced a grin of her own. "I tell you what. If I don't do so well on next week's exam, I might have to take you up on that offer." Lord, don't let it come to that.

With a self-assured wink, Blaine inserted a pair of ear buds and coasted down the hall.

She whispered a prayer, "Help."

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Copyright © 2015 Charmaine T. Davis

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FALLING is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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