promiscuous girl::MICHAEL JACKSON

Chapter 18

Not edited, I don't have time for that shit. Y'all got a whole 3000 words 😂 I'm starting the next chapter though

My bed dipped in the spot I sat working on my project for English. I had chosen to present over Arthur Golden even though he technically isn't a classic author. I was stuck in my essay that was four pages by now over what the significance of his book "Memoirs of a Geisha" was. My pencil tapped harshly against my computer, the metal around the eraser making scratches on my laptop that I'd regret in a few days.

I didn't know how long I had been working on the project for English class but from the countless naps and snack breaks I had taken, it didn't surprise me that it was past eleven o'clock at night. I snatched the phone that blasted music in my ears and paused it. I fumbled with it, scrolling through apps as I wondered who to text and bug at such an hour. Michael had always communicated that he never slept but would I really take advantage of that? Just because he said he doesn't sleep and doesn't mind helping us, that doesn't mean he actually meant it.

My thumb hovered over the remind app that teachers use to communicate away from school. The blue app with the cloud in the center glowed as my eyes flashed back and forth from the time and the app. It had been a few days since he dropped me off at home. We were back on track with whatever we were but the fact that we never truly acknowledged it like adults bothered me.

The app opened as I clicked on it and went to his class and typed "Mr. Jackson, I need help" into the text box and hit send. I sat my phone down beside me and looked over my computer screen and decided to format instead. I entered the pictures I had saved to my computer and put them where I found fit. It only took my about seven minutes to enter the pictures I could with most of my essay written. My problem was always conclusions. Teachers had always made me feel insecure about my introductory paragraphs and my conclusion paragraphs but never helped me.

I sighed at my patience grew short very quick. He stilled hadn't messaged me back. I started writing again, going through my essay for the umpteenth time. At this point, my writing was probably better than Arthur Golden himself with the amount of times I went through and checked my essay for any errors while I waited for inspiration.

I sighed to myself, checking my phone one last time after going through all four pages and finding nothing to correct. Mr. Jackson still hadn't messaged me back and at this point I was ready to wake him up if he were asleep. I grabbed my keys from my nigh stand and went to my door where my mirror hung. I puffed my hair back out after it had been matted from the naps I had taken. Snatching my computer from my bed angrily, I closed my bedroom door behind me after turning off my lights and quickly went down the stairs. Before I left, I went to the fridge whiteboard and wrote that I went to Sev's for help just in case I woke someone up or someone happened to wake up. My parents didn't mind me leaving the house late at night as long as it wasn't somewhere I wasn't supposed to be and I let them know. This was a way of letting them know.

I quickly got in the car as the night air hit me and turned the heat on first. I really hope he wouldn't notice my appearance that much. My hair didn't look bad but it didn't look great either. I had on a sweatshirt and yoga pants with some very dusty and old sneakers that I never wear anymore. He made a mistake when he went to his house first when dropping me off because I would definitely use this to my advantage. His house wasn't far from mine so it was a quick drive and didn't give me enough time to let me think about what I was doing. I turned my car off, the music abruptly stopping and took the keys from the car, getting out and locking the car.

I quickly jogged up his driveway and knocked on his door. I prayed that I didn't accidentally come to the wrong house or that he'd get mad at me waking him up. He had to be asleep by now and then that's when it hit me. I seriously just showed up to my teachers house at almost twelve o'clock at night for help on an essay and he could very much so be mad. I completely disregarded the fact that lights were on when I drove up or the fact that he wasn't just my teacher anymore and he'd be less likely to be mad that I came over but then again, we were closer than teachers and students so he's more likely to show his true emotions with me. But it was too late to get in my car and quickly speed off, the door swung open, light spreading across the porch.