I'm Tutoring The Jerk Of The School...Oh Joy(ON HOLD)

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Amanda’s P.O.V

I walked through the halls, reaching my AP class just in time. I had just sat down when the last bell rang, warning that class was starting. I huffed and got out my book. I had run from one end of the building to the other because I had been wanting to talk to Dylan, but he wasn’t at his locker. So, I just sort of lost track of time. I haven’t talked to him at all since Monday night. It really bugged me, because he had told me that he would see me on Tuesday, but he wasn’t around anywhere. When I saw him on Wednesday, I was going to approach him, but my AP teacher appeared out of no where and suddenly whisked me away to talk about a project we were doing in class. So today, it was Friday.

My whole schedule had been changed just to fit this one class. So now, my history class was in the morning. I didn’t really like it. It felt too weird. Everyone in the class was smart just like me, but it felt weird to be around people the same level as me. Besides, when most girls have smarts, they are just stuck up. Take the girl who was sneering at me for instance.

“Yes?” I asked her, finally.

She straightened from her slouch and still glared at me, with a weird evil smile on her lips. “Oh, nothing. Just, you know, loving the feeling of being smart.”

I cocked an eye brow at her. “So, being smart makes you glare at me?”

Her gaze narrowed even more, the smirk on her lips going even scarier. “Oh, yes. Because I can afford to. Unlike you. You’re just the goody-goody who won’t do anything wrong.”

I was about to respond when the teacher called for our attention in the front of the class. “Okay, class. Today you will just be doing work in the book. Chapter seven, numbers one through eight at the end of the chapter. Oh, and read the chapter too, while you’re at it.”

No one groaned. That’s the difference with AP classes. We just accept the work we are given and do it quietly without complaint. I think all teachers would like to teach AP classes just because people are more mature in the classes and don’t usually do really stupid stuff.

I flipped open to chapter seven, and began reading before I even looked at the questions. I was half way through when a note came flying onto my book. I just stared at it for a moment then began to quietly and carefully unfold it. As if I thought it would explode in my hands or something.

It was a drawing. Well, two drawings. One, was of my getting pushed out of a room, then, the next one was of me back in my old history. I sighed. That’s the thing with AP classes though. They are highly competitive, and if someone senses you are smarter than them, they will try to get at you. But, I didn’t let it get to me. I was a senior now, and I would be done with school soon. I crumbled up the drawings and threw it away and went to sit back down.

I knew I didn’t fit in with the other AP students, but I was just fine with that. But the truth was, I just wanted to go back to my old history class. Just like the drawings suggested. Bekah was right in screaming at me about leaving. I should have just said no to my old history teacher.

I had almost finished when the bell rang, signaling the end of the fifty minute class. I sighed happily and took all my books in my arms and headed to my locker. Once I had done the three numbered combination and opened my locker, I frowned up at the top shelf. Sitting there, was one of my mom’s books. I added my other homework and my mom’s book to my history assignment that was in my arms.

As much as I didn’t want to, I was also pretty interested in reading my mom’s book. Bekah had told me a while ago that the book she read was really good and wanted me to read it. I guess she finally delivered on that fact and put it in my locker to read.