The week so far seemed to go by slow but smoothly. Today was Friday, Valentine's Day and Earl's 42nd birthday. Half of our report on the Chinese Cultural Revolution was done, well my half anyway. I did two pages while so far Jordan presented me with one, well half of one. Today Earl wanted to take me out so I was hoping that I could somehow convince Jordan to show up at my house tomorrow, even if I had to pick him up myself. On this sunny and cold afternoon, 40 degrees to be exact, I sat at my desk near the end of the class period. Jordan sat at his desk looking bored while obviously texting. We had 10 minutes left until class ended and Mr. Wayne sat at his desk grading our classwork assignments that we did earlier.
"I'll be handing back your graded assignments in a few moments", he announced. If you have an issue with your grade, please see me after class. If you feel you'll be late for your last class, I'll write you late pass.
"Jordan", I said.
"What", he replied, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
"How do you feel about coming to my house tomorrow?", I asked.
"Girl, why would I do something like dat?", he replied. I don't know you like dat!
"Mr. Everette, keep your voice down", said Mr. Wayne, locking eyes on Jordan.
Jordan rolled his eyes once again and continued talking, only this time a little softer.
"Why do I or better yet why would I wanna come over your place?". he asked, sounding annoyed.
"For the project of course", I replied. Trust me I don't wanna be your friend no more than you wanna be mine. This is for the sake of the project, got it?!
"I ain't at home on Saturdays", he replied. Unlike you, I have a life.
"Lord give me the strength to keep from punching this motherfucker", I thought to myself.
"Can you put your plans away for one Saturday and try to focus on this report?", I asked, becoming irritated. This is half of our grade for the remainder of this semester.
"Fine, whatever", he said, rolling his eyes and tearing a page out of his notebook.
He scribbled something down with a purple gel pin, folded up the sheet of paper and nonchalantly tossed it onto my desk. I unfolded the paper and read his glittery hand written numbers. It said 1488 Jackson Ave, which was a street I wasn't too familiar with.
YOU ARE READING
Mr. Tan
Teen FictionTeenage Alexis Bethany Hathaway who is reunited with her nonchalant mother and her verbally abusive husband after her loving grandmother's death. Once she discovers that she is pregnant, her mother tells her she has a certain amount of time to get a...
