$ugga Momma (Old Version)

[5]

Walking down the cold metal bleachers Brooke read the question in her study book out loud again. "If f(x) has roots at x = –1, 0 and 2, which of the following could be the equation for f(x)?"Looking up at the tracks lights, she watched moths fly around frantically hitting the light as if their life's depended on it. The morning was such an odd time because the world still seemed so dead. Soon the streets would be crowded, and the sunlight would shine bright. She was getting distracted.

She hated studying so early in the morning because her brain was still waking up. Why did she even agree to this? Did she even agree to this? Which could be the equation for f(x)?

Leaning on the top of the railing to let her eyes get a few seconds of rest she took her book and hit the top of her head hoping for an answer.

"Are you having a stroke?"

Brooke looked up and over the side of the bleachers at the blonde woman, "You're late."

"And you're early." Stretching our her legs Mrs. Davidson looked around. "What were you doing?"

Holding her book up the young girl sighed. Jogging down the steps she winced slightly at the loud noice and walked over to her teacher. "Studying for the SATS."

Taking the book from her Mrs. Davidson raised her eyebrows and scanned the pages quickly, "I would have thought you had done this already."

"I have. I just want to retake it to see if I could do better." Brooke yawned stretching her arms.

Staring at her for a few seconds, the tall woman rolled her eyes and threw the book onto the ground where the morning dew had coated the grass. "C'mon. What are you wearing anyways?" She walked over to the starting line and stretched her arms out.

Grabbing the now damp pages Brooke Rested her study aid on the metal seats and ran after the woman, "What do you mean? These are workout clothes?"

Looking at her heart rate Mrs. Davidson nodded. The girls baggy sweatpants and oversized T-shirt wasn't the most appealing thing to look at but it did give a glimpse of who she was. It was obviously hand me downs, but she worked them like it was designer.

It was a drastic difference compared to Mrs. Davidson's brightly colored leggings, white cotton sweatshirt and nice running shoes that looked like they had never touched the ground before. "What about your hair?"

Pushing it out of her face Brooke struggled to keep up. "What about it?"

Annoyed the older woman looked at her watch again as they finished one lap and stopped abruptly, "When did your mom leave?"

Taking deep breathes Brooke scrunched her face at the odd question and leaned against the bleachers walls. "When I was six."

"Come here." Sitting down on the bleachers Mrs. Davidson patted the seat below her. She could tell the simplest things had passed her by without anyone checking in to see if she had the basics down.

Brooke took a few more seconds to catch her breath but finally complied reluctantly. Sitting down one level lower the brunette sat straight and jumped when fingers brushed past her.

Mrs. Davidson combed her hair back softly with and took a ponytail holder off of her wrist. Wrapping it around as gently as she could she smoothed out some areas and let her fingers linger on her shoulders "There."

Swallowing basically nothing, Brooke smiled sweetly. "Thank you. I don't know about a lot of that stuff."

Mrs. Davidson returned the smile and studied her face. The sun was starting to rise, and it reflected off of the girl's smooth beautiful skin in a stunning way. She looked totally different with the hair out of her face. And for some reason all she could think about was how this vulnerable, sweet, innocent, hot girl had mommy issues. What an interesting blessing that sat before her.

Hearing a slight thud below her Mrs. Davidson hung her head and listened closely. Another thud followed quickly after and the teacher grinned.

Waving at her to follow quietly. They sneakily tip toed to the back of the bleachers where the door had obviously been broken into. Looking over Mrs. Davidson winked at the confused girl.

Slowly reaching out she waited until her hand was touching and then pushed the metal door open as fast and hard as she could.

Standing up straight Mrs. Davidson clapped at the scene before her. It was things like this that kept her wanting to come back to this old worn out school.

Two very known varsity football players stood balls deep into the bands best saxophonist. Brian Adams. Their faces turned white and the three boys grabbed the nearest clothes to cover themselves.

Letting her mouth hang open Brooke covered her own eyes and stepped out of the way so as to not accidentally see anything.

"You three look like you've seen a ghost." Smirking The blonde crossed her arms and watched the boys throw on their clothes.

"Please! Please, Mrs. Davidson you can't tell anyone!"The darker skinned boy pleaded."It could ruin everything please."

Buckling his belt, the other football player sniffed. "Please don't tell anyone."

"Why in the morning?" Mrs. Davidson wondered out loud looking between the three boys. "And why in here?"

"Early practice for us." Brian commented. His words seemed less shaky than the others but he was still terrified.

"Ya and no one comes back here off season." The white guy commented. "Are we going to get in trouble?"

"I haven't decided yet." Stroking her chin the blonde woman eyed them up and down slowly. "Get back to practice I'll think about what to do to you three."

Watching them run out of the room and down the parking lot Brooke sighed. "Oh my." She always tried her best to avoid drama such as this but somehow she found herself in the line of fire. That was not where she wanted to be.

Looking around at the old equipment Mrs. Davidson shrugged, "Not a bad place to suck dick."

"What are you going to do to them?" Brooke asked standing in the corner.

"Not much. I wouldn't want anyone outing me-" Looking at the lock the older woman cleared her throat hoping the young girl hadn't heard what she said. Closing the door slightly she looked over at the girl who was obviously oblivious, "There's nothing wrong with keeping secrets."

Brooke nodded and walked out of the equipment room. The sun was starting to rise, and she soaked the warmness up.

"Do you know why I run?" Mrs. Davidson questioned closing the door behind her.

She shook her head.

"Because I like breakfast burritos. Go get some for us?"

"I don't have any money." Brooke paused, "with me."

The blonde looked down at the brunette who avoided eye contact. She almost looked ashamed at what she said. "Hey don't worry about that." Opening her shirt and grabbing a hundred out of her bra Mrs. Davidson held it out. "I want the Dennis Special. Don't let them skimp me out on cheese."

Taking the money slowly Brooke frowned at the woman who walked away.

"Get whatever you want."

"I'll bring you the change!" Brooke yelled still afraid to move.

Turning while she walked Mrs. Davidson flipped the girl off, "what are you? A Jew? I don't want to see that money again! Go buy some real workout clothes."

Watching her teacher walk out of sight Brooke looked back down at the money. It felt wrong to take money from someone else. She also had no idea where the burrito place was.

It couldn't be that far of a walk.