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"Who can tell me what this is?" The professor said raising his pen up to the problem on the board. I stared at the discombobulation of numbers and letter and was visibly dumbfounded.
I more so got into this school by athletics, not because I was smart.
I was informed that I did have to keep my grades up in order to stay in the school of course, but damn what the hell is this.
I looked around the classroom and saw everyone with understanding faces—while I was senile.
Angelo raised his hand, reluctantly, but the teacher called on him anyways.
"X equals 55" He said. The teachers face of agreement took me by surprise and he nodded, "That is correct." He said turning back to the board.
I looked at Angelo who pushed his glasses closer to his face. I noticed he only wore those glasses in certain classes, where he was farther away from the board. Possibly can't see far away.
He glanced at me and caught my stare, I blinked to come back to reality and looked back to the front.
My mind wandered helplessly—tapping my pen on the desk as some sort of entertainment.
"Jeremiah, is it?." The professor asked rhetorically—clawing me out of my thoughts, "can you answer this next question? He said pointing to the board.
fuck no.
"can i phone a friend?" I asked almost immediately. The teachers face contorted to slight disappointment, "fine."
I looked around the class and my eyes instinctively landed on Angelo—who hadn't looked from his fiddling fingers on his desk.
"Angelo." I said loud enough for him to hear. He looked at me confused and slightly irritated but initially answered the question.
"the answer is undefined." He said with clear irritation in his voice. I looked at him through his glasses and smiled annoyingly.
He scowled at me and rolled his eyes,
he's sexy as hell in them glasses
wait—not sexy, i mean he just looks better with them on.
The bell rang and everyone got their stuff together quickly. The professor did an exaggerated cough which of course, caught my attention.
I sighed and walked over to his desk with my bag thrown over my shoulder.
"Jeremiah, is your name?" He asked as if he doesn't already know.
I looked at him which insinuated for him to keep speaking, "are you having trouble learning the material? let me know now or at least early in the year—i can tell what student you are." He indirectly insulted.
"what you tryna say?" I asked offended.
The professor sighed before speaking, "Look, i've had plenty of students like you. You got a scholar ship from sports and you barely made it through high school with an acceptable GPA and that was earned through cheating on major tests and sitting next to smart kids. You clearly have shown no growth from high school as sports is the only thing you care about—meaning you couldn't care less for education. That being said, this is the only time i'm going to say these words of advice you've probably heard a plethora of times." He said sitting down.
