Spring [Completed]

TWENTY-FOUR

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HER

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break•ing point
noun
1. the moment of greatest strain at which someone or something gives way.

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"Ugh," I groan, closing my eyes and leaning back in my chair. My head is killing me, and Demi and her friend's incessant laughing and hollering is making it impossible for me to focus.

Taking a deep breath, I turn my attention back to my lesson plan for this week. I'm only able to type a sentence before a loud thump sounds and their laughter vibrates through the walls. I let out a deep breath and try my hardest to ignore them.

After about ten more minutes of enduring the commotion outside my office, I've had enough. I slam my laptop down and storm out into the hall.

"Demi," I shout, and her and her friend stop the little game they're playing on the stairs.

"Yes ma'am?" she says, smiling nervously.

I cross my arms over my chest. "Didn't I tell you two to be quiet? I'm trying to do my work, and I can't focus with you guys yelling out here. Can't you go to your room or something?"

"We could, Miss Imani, but the lighting out here is much better for the fashion show," Gracie says, draping her body against the stairs and dramatically swinging her pink boa over her shoulder.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

Demi, sensing my anger, steps in front of her. "Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were still doing work stuff. We'll try to be quiet—"

"We've already been down this road the first time, Demi. I don't need you to be sorry, I need you to do as you're told. Don't make me embarrass you in front of your little friend—"

"Miss Imani, she gets it, you don't have to yell," Gracie says with a frown.

Demi places a hand to her forehead at the same moment I cock my head to the side. "Alright, Gracie, let me make one thing very clear. I am the adult here. You are a child, you don't tell me what I to do. I don't know how they handle things at your house but—"

"Imani," Josh says, as he approaches the staircase. He wears a strained smile and an expression that screams: calm down. "What's going on here?"

I roll my eyes. "These kids are disrespectful and—"

"Girls, why don't you go play upstairs for a while?" Josh places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a light squeeze.

Demi frowns. "But, Dad, can't you just tell Mom to—"

Josh raises a stern brow, and Demi sighs.

"Okay. Come on Gracie, lets go watch YouTube on my iPad." I shake my head and watch as they retreat up the stairs.

Once out of earshot, Josh turns me to face him. He studies my face, rubbing by shoulders lightly. "Imani, what was that? Why were you going off on the girls? You've been so short patient with all of us, these past few days."