Lost Then Found

Lost Then Found (3)

As we walked up to the classroom, he opened the door and signaled me to walk in before him. "Such a gentleman, thank you kind sir." I laughed, trying to keep up the English act.

"I try." He said with a smirk.

"Come on in and sit down please." A slim red headed woman said in a perky little sweet voice as she was sitting down at the long wooden desk in the back of the room. She got up from her seat and made her way to the door where Marcus and I were.

"Welcome back Marcus."

"Same to you Ms. Bakersfield. I'll go take a seat now." I then was going do to the same, but the woman had stopped me. "Wait!" She had called me back resting her hand on my shoulder, causing me to turn around. "You're Samantha right?" I nodded. "Well as you probably heard," she said with a smile, "my name is Ms. Bakersfield. I'm going to be your English teacher for you sophmore, junior, and senior years." She said, still smiling at me. She seemed like a nice woman. So I smiled back. "Guys!" she yelled , getting the students' attention. "This is our new student, Samatha Slone."

"Hello Samantha." They all said to me in unison. It was kind of creepy.

"Samantha here used to live in New York City. She is the daughter of the well known, best selling author, Rebecca Slone. Im pretty sure you all have read or are reading her latest book out on the shelves called 'Heat'." When I heard her say my mother's name, my smile faded immediately. I hated being compared to my mother or even referenced to her. Which happens almost everyday. It's like I was her shadow. Yeah, we had a great relationship. Practically best friends, but when it comes to her job, not on great terms with that. I love to write though. And I'm afraid of that. I don't want to live in my mother's shadow all my life.

"Samantha, you can go take a seat next to Marcus over there." She told me as she held her hand out in the direction of the empty seat next to Marcus all the way across the room. I looked over at Marcus and we exchanged smiles as I made my way to the empty seat. As soon as I sat in my seat, the late bell rang and Ms. Bakersfield began teaching.

"So," she started to get their attention, "for these upcoming three years you guys will have me as your English teacher, we will have poetry days on Mondays and Fridays. Where we will write our own poems of any kind, and then share them. Even I'll do them. Sometimes we'll even work with partners. And since today is Monday, you guys can work on your poems for the next fifteen minutes and then we'll share our pieces.... Move along now." I pulled out my binder and flipped to the 'English' section. I then took out a turquoise pen and began to write.

"Psst. Pssst. Do you have a pen? I don't know where all of mine went." Was all I heard before a grin formed on my face. Without out even turning to him I whispered back at him, "Very classic. I would applaud but you know, we're in class. And it wouldn't be a fair applaud seeing that from the corner of my eye, I can see three perfectly fine looking pens in the pencils and pens pockets of your book bag. You should really zip it closed all the way, you know. That can be dangerous, but that was a nice try. Cute." He couldn't help but blush and laugh at how I had caught him.

"But can I still use the pen though?" He asked me after he calmed his laughter. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I reached into my bag and pulled out a orange colored ink pen. And handed it to him, "Thanks, I'll make up some new pick up lines, just for you." I couldn't keep a straight face with this guy. I don't even know what it is about him. He's different. From some of my old friends, even people I see on the street. He didn't treat me different because of who my mother was. And that, plus the fact that he looked like a freaking hot God, I kind of liked him. But I barely knew this guy. I knew nothing about him, outside of his name and the fact that he lived here all his life. Oh, and that he had never been to New York City. New York period!