Teacher's Pet (A Michael Jackson Fanfiction)

Teacher's Pet..22..

"What are you doing here, Professor?" Brad asks again as he looks between us again.

I look at Michael for help with the answer, but he tilts his head, smirking.

He's waiting for me to answer Brad's question.

Thanks a lot, Professor.

"Uhh," I smile, walking to Brad at the door. "the Professor came by to give me some notes. See."

I present the pile of notes and Brad arches a dubious eyebrow.

Well, it is the truth. Although, only half.

"Is that true, sir?" Brad asks, frowning at Michael.

"Actually, I came by to check on Miss Toussaint. I wanted to make sure she was alright, Mr. Ware." Michael confesses with a smile. "Since you don't tell me anything."

Oh, hell.

"That's because she's none of your business, Professor." Brad scoffs, walking deeper into the living room leaving me at the door.

He places the boxes of pizza on the coffee table then stuffs his car keys into his pocket.

"Be that as it may, Brad," Michael smirks, walking to me at the door to leave. "I still wanted to make sure Miss Toussaint was okay."

"Yeah." Brad mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Michael turns to me and smiles. "I hope those notes will be of help to you, Miss Toussaint."

"I'm sure they will be, sir, and thanks again." I say for measure. "These notes will come in handy. Since I do have a test in your class tomorrow."

"Actually, we're gonna have to reschedule your test, Miss Toussaint. I don't think you'll be ready for it tomorrow."

"I'll be ready, sir."

"Trust me, you won't." Michael grins, pushing his hands deep into his pockets. "So are you coming to the Art Gallery tonight?"

"Yeah, we're-- " I emphasize, looking over my shoulder at Brad. "we're going together. My best friend, you know Whitney, her art will be on display at the gallery tonight."

"Ohh, I'll have to look for her art."

"You didn't tell me about this, honey." Brad frowns as he walks over to me. "I didn't know there was an art gallery opening tonight."

"I had forgotten about it." I sigh. "I was reminded when Whitney brought our tickets by earlier. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Don't be, honey." He sighs heavily. "It's just that--I mean I would love to go but--"

"But what?" My eyebrows knit as I watch him rub his face in frustration.

"I have to work tonight."

"For him?" I point at Michael and he chuckles, shaking his head.

He better not have set this up... again.

"Thankfully, no." Brad mumbles, giving Michael a side eye. "I have to work at my Dad's office tonight. He's short-staffed."

"Oh, darn." Michael snaps his fingers sarcastically. "I guess I'll only see you there, Miss Toussaint?"

"I don't know. I won't have a ride, babe," I say to Michael, but catch my mistake in time to look at Brad. "You know my car is in the shop, Brad."

"Ride with Whitney."

"She's going with the other artists and no outsies allowed."

"Outsies?" Michael frowns at the word.