Keep Your ENEMIES Close and Your FAMILY Closer (Re-Writing)

Chapter 2- Meet an Enemy

Amir POV

“What do you mean let’s get married tomorrow?” I asked Mike, pushing him off of me. “Why should we wait? We don’t need a big wedding. As long as you and I get married I’m fine.” He said. “Baby I always wanted a big wedding though. I thought you were gonna help make my dreams come true.” I said hoping he would budge. “I understand that but.” I cut him off. “But nothing. I don’t want to elope.” I said pacing the floor. “Why not? You wanna make sure I don’t do anything wrong or bad? Are you afraid we won’t make it?” He asked. “It is not like that at all. I just want a big wedding. One you said you was gonna help me get.” I said. “So you don’t want to get married tomorrow?” he asked. “No.” I said. “So tell me why you want a big wedding instead of just eloping.” He said sitting on the couch in our room. “It’s more memories bae.” I said. “Whatever” he said.

“Why do you want to elope so badly?” I asked. “Because I want you to be Mrs. Michael Wallace as soon as possible. I want you to be labeled mine. Officially Off the market.” He said. “So when our kids want to know how we got married or want to see some pictures of our wedding day, it’s only going to be one?” I asked. “Wait a minute. Kids? By kids how many do you mean?” He asked. “And you want to get married tomorrow?” I said. “Aminah is going to be the only child.” He said. “Probably yours.” I mumbled. “What was that?” He said. “Nothing.” I wanted more kids and he didn’t. I already knew this but if I want more then I gotta keep pushing it. “I don’t want no more kids Mir.” He said. “I know that. But I do.” I said. “Well I don’t know how that’s gonna happen.” He said. “Ok. I’m going to bed. Tomorrow’s Monday.” I worked at a high school. I taught Algebra 2. I didn’t really have a lot of students since Algebra 2 is originally math for 11th graders. My 9th graders are smart but they just don’t act like it.  Now my regular kids, the 11th graders, act like they don’t care. I’m glad I only have 1 class of 11th graders which was 2nd period. The rest were 9th graders.

My 4th Period Class

“Who has the answer to question 21?” I asked my class. And they rose their hands. “Amber?” “D. -4(x+2)” She said. “Hmmm. Is that right class?” I asked. “Noo.” They said. “You don’t think so?” I asked. “It’s B.” someone yelled out. “What I told yall bout yelling out?” I asked. “Oh she getting ghetto now!” Omar yelled. I couldn’t help but laugh. I loved my kids. They all are different but crazy in their own way. “The answer is D. So Amber you were right.” I said. “Yes. 100%” She said. “Who else think they have an 100%?” I asked and about 6 people rose their hand. “Ok. That’s half the class. What about the rest?” I asked sitting in my rolling chair. “I think I got a D+.” Omar said. “Why you think that?” I asked. “I got almost all of them wrong.” He said. “Well maybe you should do it yourself instead of coping off of Amber.” I said. The day they took the test, I saw that Omar was coping off of Amber so I told her to answer a few questions wrong on purpose and I’ll let her retake the test right after class. “You set me up.” He said to Amber. “Nope. I did.” I said sticking my tongue out at him. “Ms. Walker?” Josh called me. “Yes Josh.” “Are you bringing your daughter tomorrow for take your child to work day?” He asked. “I don’t know yet. It all depends on my fiancée.” I said. Mike probably  wouldn’t like it if Minnie was here. “How old is she?” Mikayla asked. “5 months.” I said. “Oh. Yeah. I remember when you were pregnant at the beginning of the school year.” She said. “Yes. I was.” I said. “She was so damn fat. I remember that part.” Josh said. “Boy shut up! My fiancée wasn’t complaining.” I said. “That’s because he still wanted some of that red ass.” He said. “Boy!” I said. “Ok. Ok. I’m sorry.” He said and the bell rung so they left. Right now was lunch time. And lord knows I’m hungry.

I decided to call my babysitter to check on my baby.

“Hello?” Mrs. April answered.

“Hi. Mrs. April. How’s Minah?” I asked.