teacher ♤ s.t [rewriting]

04 ♤ [rewritten]

I'd tried to ask my mom about tutoring. Several times. But each time, something got in the way. Or, more like someone.

It had been days since I'd talked with Mr Topp about it, and each day after class he'd pulled me aside to ask about it, to check in. It was a little embarrassing, having to tell him I'd forgotten, or my mom was too busy. They just sounded like made-up excuses. But I was trying.

This morning, I'd decided I'd get up a little earlier than usual (horrible idea), maybe get to my mom before any of my other siblings could. However, I couldn't get out of bed. It was too hard. I was exhausted. I'd snoozed my alarm twice before realizing I needed to get up or else I'd be late.

By the time I'd made it downstairs, everyone was already crowded around the table, my mom in the middle of the group. I had the paper in my hand, but I didn't really want to bring it up in front of my brothers- they were assholes. I was surprised Jake was even up. Usually, he'd get up at the last possible moment and have to rush to get to school, way after everyone else had left.

"Mom, can I talk to you about something?" I ask, stepping around my siblings to reach her.

She nods, focused on her breakfast, so she doesn't quite get that I want to talk alone.

"Like, somewhere else?" I prompt.

"Honey, I've got a lot going on right now. Can't you just tell me here?" She was busy trying to down the rest of her coffee.

Kari eyed me, probably guessing what this was about.

"Okay," I mumble, deciding this was probably the best opportunity I'd get. "So, you know how I suck at science?"

She frowns. "Honey, you don't suck at it."

Jake snorts, fitting the rest of his toast into his mouth. "Yeah, okay. Have you seen her grades?"

"Have you seen my grades?" I ask, offended.

He shrugs. "You left your bag open on your desk."

"When were you in our room?" Kari interjects, eyebrows raised.

"I was trying to find my sneakers for football,"

"Well, they wouldn't have been in there, dipshit," she huffs.

"Yeah, I know. I didn't find them in there," he rolls his eyes at her.

"Did you find them?" my mom asks. "I'm not buying another pair for you. They're way too expensive."

"I've got them," he reassures her, "they're in my bag."

"Why'd you look in my bag?" I interrupt.

Jake shrugs again. "Dunno. They might've been in there-"

"No, they wouldn't have been," I say, narrowing my eyes. "Don't touch my stuff."

"Yeah, and stop coming in our room," Kari agrees.

"It was one time!"

"It's been more than one time, Jake, you always leave the door wide open every time you go in there!" Kari protests.

"I do not!"

"Oh, just shut up!"

"Shut doesn't go up," he rolls his eyes.

"Wow, good one. Where'd you learn that, first grade?"

He just sticks his tongue out at her.

"Stop fighting! It's barely seven a.m.!" our mother raises her voice, clearly growing upset. Now I definitely didn't want to bring up tutoring.