Street (Urban Fiction)

Chapter Thirty Eight

"Good afternoon class."

Half the class murmured a monotone good afternoon back while the other half groaned. Most of the kids complained about how this class was supposed to be a free period, Chris included. It was clear that none of them had read the syllabus Mrs. Jones emailed us the beginning of the semester.

Her eyes shone with amusement as she clasped her hands together. Chris and I decided to sit in the back of the auditorium. The class was only made up of about 25 students, so where we sat was pretty much deserted. Chris groaned again and dropped his head back against the chair. I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

"Oh hush. If you had bothered to read the syllabus, you would've known about today's meeting, and the remaining three."

"I did read the stupid syllabus," he replied with his eyes closed. He sunk a little bit lower in the seat, causing the long sleeved yellow shirt he wore to bunch up at the shoulders.

I pursed my lips at him. I was there when he skimmed over the syllabus. No, skim wasn't the right word. He read the teacher's name and the class objectives, then got sidetracked when Trey turned on his PS3. I watched as he turned the syllabus into a coaster for the Sprite Trey had handed him, and I distinctly remember him balling it up and shooting it into the trash can to prove how good his shot was.

The corners of his mouth slowly curved up as his lips widened and parted, revealing a row of his crest white teeth.

"You pursin' your lips at me, ain't it? I can feel it in my soul."

"I hate you," I laughed, mushing his head a bit.

"Alright," Mrs. Jones started up again after taking attendance, "it is so clear to me by the amount of groans I heard when you guys walked in that a lot of you didn't read the syllabus as thoroughly as you should have. Some of you, maybe not all."

I turned to Chris and quirked a brow at him. He reached out and tried to move my brow back down with his finger which caused a loud cackle to escape my lips. My eyes immediately widened, and I slumped in my seat when I saw Mrs. Jones' eyes flit in our direction.

"Today's assignment is easy. I want each of you to come up and tell us how you met, what your relationship is, and how you've decided to raise your kid. Then," she turned her back to us and walked around her desk, "you guys will pull a piece of paper out of this box, read what's on it, and someone else will answer what it is."

There was a small black box in her hands. It looked like a tissue box that was spray painted black, but the brown cardboard was still visible in the dented corners that she missed.

"I'll ask you certain questions about the stages of development during pregnancy while you're up here. Now, you all scored highly on the Blackboard assignments, so I'm sure you'll be fine." She beamed at the groans and fucks that erupted, half of them coming from the middle of the classroom from a boy named Jared.

"Up first was Michelle and Angelo. Michelle was a short and stocky sophomore with a wild blonde curls, and bifocals that hid most of her small face. Angelo, on the other hand, was tall and lanky. His jet black hair fell in fringes across his forehead, and a small smile graced his face. Talk about complete opposites.

"Oh, I... We met at..." Her eyes flitted around the auditorium nervously.

I could imagine exactly how she felt. My heart was already racing in my chest at the thought of going up there. Angelo placed two firm hands on her shoulders and took over, explaining how they met on a blind date set up by their parents. She got pregnant after 3 months of being with him, and though they're no longer together, they co-parent well.