Sex Instructor (A Michael Jackson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1: First Class Free

I suggest that before you step in and read this book that you change the background to black. The letter A on the top right corner gives you the choice. Just a tip for better/ mysterious experience😌😉

*Angel's POV*

Walking through the busy and loud streets of New York I could sniff the distinct smell of coffee coming from the packed diners and restaurants. The scent got stuck in my nostrils so I decided to go into my favorite diner and get some coffee for myself.

The 'Flashback Diner', my favorite place to get a drink and chill. Kind of reminds me of 'Central Perk' from Friends.

I walked in and ordered my usual Iced Mocha Latte before heading to the door. But as soon as I walked out an unusual cool breeze hit and made me pause when I felt something hit my foot. I looked down and saw a small red card next to my Vans. Picking it up I felt the smooth material against my fingers and read the words "First Class Free" with an address and a phone number next to it. I looked around before putting it inside my purse.

First class free? I mean...it's free...and why the fuck not am I right?

*An Hour Earlier*

My Math class, way too long as always, ends up with a loud ring from the bell. But as expected, our teacher objects and puts his hand up.

"I DISMISS YOU! Not the bell." Mr. Miller said while pointing his wrinkly finger at us.

Sometimes I wish I had a better-looking and less grumpy teacher. I mean no offense to Mr. Miller but wouldn't it be nice to have a young, tall and dreamy teacher? Someone who you'd actually pay attention to if they talk because of how hot they are. I'm a senior in High School and I still haven't had a hot teacher. Which of course that's never going to happen. But one can dream, right?

"Alright, you can go now. Remember to study pages 345 and 346. Have a good day and don't use your phone too much." Mr. Miller said loudly making 99% of the class roll their eyes at the same time.

I walked out of the class into the packed hallways filled with moody teenagers of all kinds. There's the skinny wannabe-perfect girls who think they have to be beautiful to accomplish something in life, the tomboy girls who wear sweatpants on a daily basis, the athletes, nerds, normal people, then there's me. A weird mix of pretty much everything I just told you. I'm nice to everyone and I love making people have a good time, BUT, I keep my circle small.

Or maybe that's all bullshit and we're all the same, just with a perfect cover to survive the world. Maybe we don't have to categorize people by what they seem like on the outside, maybe not categorize them at all. Maybe, just maybe, get to know someone before you judge them.

I guess I fall into the "normal" category...let's see, my name is Angel Gonzalez. I was born in Dominican Republic and so was my Mom but interestingly, my Dad was born in Cuba. Which makes me a mixed 5'5 feet tall, almost 19-year-old brunette with a maybe somewhat fit body. I'd like to think my body looks ok, but I'm no beauty queen. Most of the time I'm super self-conscious about everything that involves my body. My skin has a light tanned tone. Till this day I complain about not being given the melanin gene. Seriously, being four shades lighter than my mom only brought questions...

I have soft blue eyes that could be mistaken by green; a Dominican girl with blue eyes being the confusion of the century. Plump lips slightly covered with red lip tint. And finally, the basic ass fit of the day: ripped mom jeans and a red cropped top with my queen "Selena" on it.

Yes, my favorite color is red.

Here in New York people don't really know how to use the term "normal". You'll see people of all colors, shapes, and sizes. Black, white, Hispanics, Asians, South Asians, Native Americans, you name it. People from countries you didn't even know existed. Skinny, thick, ghetto, classy, and all types of humans there could be. But the good thing about this place is that we all don't care about that and we are all used to living in the same habitat. NY is the capital of the world and I love it. I couldn't imagine living in a place where all the people are the exact same. A total nightmare.