• dynasty • | gnr | kiss | bon jovi |

•4•

"Isn't it wonderful, sweetheart?"

I force a smile and re-read the title of Jon's essay in my head. The excitement in his eyes as he watches me skim his work for the fifth time is almost adorable, if it weren't for the fact that the essay makes me wanna throw up.

"'In ten years... I see myself married to my girlfriend of two years, Calliope Jackson, and head of both the Bongiovi Corporation and Jesse Jackson Real Estate Incorporated'."

Jon smiles and points to his work on the bulletin board in the hall. "Read that part."

"'We'll have four beautiful children and reside in my home state of New Jersey'."

Jon's expression brightens even more. "I know four sounds like a lot, but you'll have time."

I stare up at him, speechless. I look into his eyes and know he means well, I know he's only trying to do what he supposed to, but that's the problem. I wish I could just tell him the last thing I want to do is become his housewife and squeeze out his children, but I can't. So I smile and giggle.

"It's amazing, good job."

A few seconds later the double doors to the main office come swinging open, and out comes a gaggle of Brooklyn natives.

I turn my back immediately and Jon turns up his nose, peering over my shoulder.

"Ugh, what's he doing outside auto shop?"

"Who?" I whisper, just as I hear the familiar sound of mocking laughter approaching.

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite people, right here in front of me! How lucky am I!" Stan chirps with faux enthusiasm, grinning like an idiot.

His smile doesn't fade when I turn to face him. I glance down at the light pink sheet of paper in his hands with sickening realization, my heart drops like a stone in a river.

"Oh god, you didn't." I hiss under my breath.

"Oh I did, Princess," Stan says, waving the sheet of paper triumphantly before my face. "I took your advice, since my 'horrible grades will get me kicked out of this place before I can even blink', and got a tutor. I requested the very best one."

He shoves the pink tutoring slip into my hand.

YOU ARE ASSIGNED TO: Calliope Jackson. FREQUENCY: Daily, after school.

My stomach churns uncomfortably.

Jon scoffs. "Cal, what is he talking about?"

"Stan, I said those things because I was mad! I didn't mean for you to actually get your grades in check. You're only doing this to get back at me, so consider it done."

He shakes his head. "No can-do. Maybe you should be careful what you wish for, given the fact that you get eveything you want. And by the way, my name is Paul."

He brushes past me and continues down the hall.

"This is madness, Stanley!"

"See you after school, tutor!"

I look up at Jon, but honestly I don't know what to say. I let out an exasperated sigh and allow my head to fall in my hands, which prompts Jon to put his arms around me. I rest against his shoulder guiltily.

"What happened?"

"Okay... well... a week or so ago I... didn't take your advice, and took my car to the shop to get fixed. The good news is it was just a loose belt... but... while I was there, I said some things to Stan I really regret. And now he's out to get me."