The Fag Swag [boyxboy]

The Fag Swag {10}

                “Hi Mrs. Pratt,” I greeted, stepping into her room. I wasn’t surprised to see Phil sitting there, glaring at a worksheet.

                “Hello Nick!” Mrs. Pratt said cheerfully. “Just take a seat next to Phil!”

                I sat down next to him and spread my work out on the desk. Phil glanced at me and bit his lip before sighing.

                “Can I borrow your calculator again?” he asked quietly.

                “Phillip Brooks! You need to get your own calculator,” Mrs. Pratt said with a sigh.

                Instead of jumping over the desk and killing her like I thought he would, Phil simply hung his head in shame. I nearly started laughing. He looked like a little kid who had just gotten caught sneaking a cookie before dinner.

                “My mom says we can’t afford it. They cost almost $100,” he said, not meeting Mrs. Pratt’s eyes. “That’s a lot of money for a calculator.”

                “Yea, borrow mine. Just give it back when you’re done,” I said and thrust it into his hands.

                “I’ll give it back,” he said, glaring at me.

                We worked in silence for a little. Phil stood up and cracked his neck before glancing at Mrs. Pratt.

                “I’ll be right back. I’m using the restroom,” he mumbled and left the classroom, shutting the door as he went.

                I slumped down in my chair and let out a breath of relief. I think my face was sore from all the glaring I was doing.

                “He terrifies me,” I announced with a nod.

                Mrs. Pratt sighed. “A lot of my students say that, but I can’t really see why. Phillip is such a sweetheart!”

                I stared at my teacher, positive she had gone crazy. “Phillip Brooks? A sweetheart?” I asked and let out a disbelieving laugh. “He broke a kid’s arm!”

                Mrs. Pratt frowned. “Well Nick, I think he has a lot of problems outside of school. He really is a nice boy to teachers. He loves to learn. I’ve talked to a few of his teachers and they all love him for the most part. He’s not the brightest, but he works hard.” The smile reappeared on her face. “Phillip is a good boy.”

                “He still terrifies me,” I grumbled.

                “The police chief’s son is scared of a confused 17 year old boy?” Mrs. Pratt asked, raising her eyebrow at me. “Because in all honesty Nick, that’s all Phil is. He’s just a confused kid.”

                I opened my mouth to say more, but snapped is shut as Phil entered the room. He came over and sat next to me, picking up his pencil and getting back to work.

                Mrs. Pratt came over and helped the two of us before glancing at the clock and sighing. “It’s getting late boys,” she said, clapping her hands together and offering us a friendly smile.

                “You can stay after tomorrow. Although, Phil, Nick was very good on the unit you’re stuck on right now. Maybe he can tutor you! And Molly can help. She’s a very brilliant girl,” she said.