Losing My Religion ⚣ {trikey}

3: Townley

My mom didn't even bother showing Jim the failure notice. I guess it occurred to her that he doesn't give a shit about me or that it's really none of his business.

I didn't give a shit about school and I never would, but I needed to make my mom happy. Make her proud.

I swallowed my pride and sauntered into principal Weber's office the next morning sporting a black eye. I tossed the failure notice onto his desk.

"What happened to you?" He asked while taking the paper and inspecting the signature to make sure I didn't forge it.

"Took a bad step," I lied. "Anyway, I wanna start tutoring. I guess."

Weber smiled. "Ah, good Mr. Philips. Come to room 308 today after school."

"Okay." I replied, feeling defeated. I turned on my heel and left his office and went to my first class.

"Jim?" My other best friend Ron asked when he saw my eye. I nodded once and put my head down. I didn't get much sleep last night and might as well in math class.

I was woken up to a ruler being slammed on my desk. I raised my head and met eyes with my witch of a teacher Mrs. Hagley.

"Wake up Trevor. This is math. Not bedtime." She spat. "Get your textbook out."

I'll shove that ruler up your ass.

I groaned and pulled my math textbook out and slammed it onto my desk and opened to the page with my loose leaf paper for homework last night. I didn't do it.

"Still not done." Hagley commented. "F in the grade book." She turned and went to the chalk board to resume her lesson. I guess it'll drag my grade down so I won't have to tutor.

Fuck. You. Dumb bitch.

"Ron, let me copy off of you." I said.

"Oh I don't know Trevor..." The boy in the red flannel unbuttoned shirt, a white tank top, and big ass glasses said.

"Stop being so nervous." I growled and grabbed his paper. I scribbled down the answers and gave it back.

Then it occurred to me I'd forgotten about detention with Morris yesterday. Now I probably have Saturday school. Still wasn't gonna go. I have to go to fucking tutoring.

At the end of the day, I shoved everything in my bag and went out to my car to smoke a cigarette before going to room 308. I found a few people sitting at tables working on homework.

I frowned and saw a teacher I didn't have supervising.

"And you are?" The bitch asked.

"Trevor Philips." I replied.

"Ah yes, Mr. Weber told me you'd be coming. The red headed lady stood from her desk and came to me.

"You're going to be working with Michael Townley." She said. She began walking through the rows of tables to one where a jock I'd seen around a few times sat by himself with a math textbook in front of him. He was chewing on his nails nervously before he realized we were walking to him.

We made eye contact and we seemed to be frozen in a moment. Michael Townley. Not bad looking.

Since he was a jock he was muscular and built. Maybe a tiny bit flabby on top but strong underneath. His eyes were blue like the ocean and his hair was brown and cut at his ears.

But since he was a jock, he must be a all brawn no brains meat head.

"Here is your tutor, Trevor Philips." The red head teacher said. Michael flashed a small smile to me.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," I replied almost nervously. The teacher left us and I sat in the stool next to him at the black table. 

"So uh," I began. "You need help with math?"

"Yeah," he said and turned the textbook towards me. "Quadratic equations or something stupid."

"Who do you have for math?" I asked.

"Hagley." Michael made a cringe face.

"Fuck that old bitch." I agreed. "She's a hag."

Michael chuckled. "Yeah, I don't like her. But I need to keep my grades up to stay on the football team."

I cringed. The football team. He's a stupid fucking jock. No better than Hagley. Then I scratched my cheek and felt the stubble growing. I have to shave soon. I get to feel the wonderful nips as the blade accidentally cuts into my skin. I normally use toilet paper to wipe it off but then Jim gets mad because I use all the toilet paper.

"What happened to your eye?" Michael asked and drug me out of my thoughts. My head snapped to him. "What?

"Your eye," he pointed to it. "What happened?"

I remembered the purple and blue cloud around my shit brown eyeball. "Clumsy." Was all I said.

He didn't look convinced but dropped the subject.