There's a Rebel in My Bed! [✓]

13. Poisonous Part 1/2

                                  There’s a Rebel in My Bed!

                          Chapter 13 – Poisonous Part 1/2

                   Song of the Chapter: Gravity – John Mayor (2006)

 

 

Will you VOTE (90) and Comment (50) for me pwease? *sad puppy face*

Picture of Andy on the side.

 

“I expect you to show me the same amount of reverence and respect you had for your former teacher.” He smiled, innocently towards the mass of student bodies placed before him. “Now I know it’s a really big adjustment and it will take some getting used to me and my teaching style but I’m sure with a little time and work we can get along fine and dandy.”

He sure knew how to play a crowed. I couldn’t help but think as I looked at Tank’s smooth and in control movements that was well complimented by a small grin. Enough to make all the girls in the class swoon over their new teacher’s looks.

He smiled again as the bell rang, effectively ending a class; and, if this one was any indication how the rest of the school year will be, it might be best if I just fall off the side of the earth.

“Don’t forget students, come prepared to present to me on Friday,” he looked directly at me, “I want to get to know you a little better.”

I clenched my jaw and growled at the back of my throat as the kids flushed out of the room, all seemingly speaking, for the most part of how much they would enjoy this class this year. I wish I shared their enthusiasm. Then again, I knew the truth behind the smile. 

I stood with my backpack and tried to file out with the crowd by blending my way out but had no such luck.

 “Mr. Harris.” Tank – or in this case, Mr. O’Neal called. He wore a deep set smirk and folded his arms over his chest.

Nervously, I stepped up to him – keeping as comfortable a  distance as possible between us.

Once everyone had left and the door to the exit was shut, Tank’s seemingly flawless impression of a teacher dissipated and the evil and sly look that I had previously seen and memorized took its rightful place again.  “Hello, Evan. I trust you had a wonderful last few days of Christmas vacation.”

He knew damn well what had transpired. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was behind it. “How did you get this job?” I asked, ignoring his condescending remarks.

He shrugged and leaned against his desk, reached into his front pants pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “Like I said before, Evan. I’m no street thug, I have credentials and with your English teacher being involved in some heavy extra circular activities with her student, it wasn’t that hard for me to get hired.”

“What the hell do you want from me?”

He stuck the cigarette in his mouth but resisted lighting it, “The money.” He answered, sounding a bit muffled with the stick between his lips. He took it out and playfully - almost skillfully spun it in between his fingers. “Remember what we discussed. You’re father owed me – he’s dead and now you do.”

I clenched my jaw and felt my fist ball and Tank took notice. He couldn’t help but patronize me further by chuckling a bit, “I suggest you hurry and get the money from your playboy boyfriend. Prom isn't that far way, you now?”