HARDAWAY | trilogy

Chapter Twenty One.

CARMEN RICHARDSON

             November, Monday afternoon. My leather nude, pointy toe pumps rhythmically tapped against the concrete. I had on a white midi body-con dress with a V-neckline and fitted three-quarter sleeves. My defined and sun kissed hair was in loose curls, passing my shoulders. Hanging from the crease of my right arm was my leather tote purse; my palm clutched around the cup of Passion Papaya Green Tea and in my left palm held onto the Panera Bread bag containing my lunch.

Approaching the double doors of the school, one of the doors pushed open and walking out was one of the security guards, on his phone. He noticed my full hands, holding the door open for me and I thanked him. I walked into the office, greeted by the secretary. I neared my office and noticed one of the familiar students, sitting outside of my door; Jennifer Jones, almond brown skin and natural curls touching her collarbone.

"Don't you have class, Jen?" I asked, unlocking my office door and walking inside. She followed me in as I foot around my desk and place my drink, purse, and bag of food on the desk.

"We only got, like, ten minutes left." She took a seat in the chair and exhaled sharply, " plus... I need to talk to you. Can I switch my History teacher?"

"For what this time, Jennifer?"

"Ms. Johnson is just — eh, I don't like her. I wanna be Mr. Cole History class."

"Oh, okay. ." I chuckled, taking a seat in my desk chair, "Your boyfriend is in Mr. Cole's class and you think you coming and telling me how much Ms. Johnson doesn't know how to teach or you simply not liking her would make me consider switching you classes?"

"I mean," she nodded, "yeah."

"Yeah, not happening," I replied, making her suck her teeth. "Go back to class. She's an amazing teacher and you will be dealing with her for the rest of the year. Have a good day. There serving roast beef today at lunch."

"Yeah, yeah," she stood from the chair, groaning, "Later, Principal Richardson."

"Later, honey." I chuckled, shaking my head. Unfolding the top of the Panera Beard bag, I pulled out the half cut wrapped Cuban sandwich and place it on my desk when my assistant Stacy knocked softly on the door. A closed smile appeared on her face when I locked eyes with her. "Good afternoon, Stacy."

"Good afternoon, ma'am," she footed in her heels further into my office wearing floral printed blouse and boot-cut slacks, "sorry to interrupt your lunch. How did the District meeting go?"

"Excellent, actually," I grinned, "She approved to up the budget. So, now, we're able to replace the broken iMacs in the computer lab. It may take of few weeks, but they are on the way."

"Great. Dwight Washington taking over this district seems it's going to change Lyrewood for the better."

"Which is what this city needs," I exhaled, pushing my loose curls behind my ear. "You're welcome to go to lunch. Security will be on lunch duty."