pen pal | on hold

two

From: LDSport13@hotmail.com

Sent: Wednesday, January 14, 2015  11:03 PM

To: ReadWriteSleep@yahoo.com

Subject: sorry

        c'mon wren, i'm sorry ok? i didn't mean it. like you said, i have a boyish mind and i'll try to be tolerable now for you if it helps.

From: LDSport13@hotmail.com

Sent: Wednesday, January 14, 2015  11:05 PM

To: ReadWriteSleep@yahoo.com

Subject: please

        i didn't mean it, like i said previously (yes I know big words, shocker right?). man, i thought you were just slow to reply. just kidding of course. 

From: LDSport13@hotmail.com

Sent: Thursday, January 15, 2015  7:02 AM

To: ReadWriteSleep@yahoo.com

Subject: (no subject)

        the meathead is vv sorry. look i seriously meant when i said i was sorry, i don't want the next seventeen weeks to be awkward between us. c'mon pen pal :-)

        random question: why do they call it pen pal if this is emailing? ever thought about that or is that just me? 

                        [[ L E V I ]] 

        I groan silently, careful not to draw the attention of my teacher, Mrs. Sterling, who is droning on and on about The Fall of the Berlin Wall which happened in 1989. I may be an athlete, but not completely brain dead. Okay, maybe I am, but I do remember this because last semester I was trying to study only to find out that I studied the wrong chapter. But Mrs. Sterling is very strict when it comes to students breaking her class rules. 

        But at this point I can careless. Of course I'd mess shit up on the first day, it's bound to happen. I didn't expect to not screw things up somehow, but it does surprise me that I messed up on the first day. I thought after three days, but looks like I have a new record. 

        "—Mr. Donovan, Mr. Donovan," I snap my head up to see Mrs. Sterling's eyes narrowing on me. She never liked me and the feelings are mutual.

        "Sorry, what did you say?" I ask as I discreetly slip my phone in my front pocket so she won't see it. Of course, she has the eyes of a hawk and probaby already saw me texting. 

        Mrs. Sterling scowls and folds her bony arms across her chest. She's one of those types of middle aged teachers whose kids are off in college so she's cranky that she has to deal with more teenagers and the kind of teacher that swears on the existence of all her students. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if she has voodoo dolls of all us students in her drawers.

        "Of course you didn't hear me," she sighs as she rubs her temples, "I said, when was the Civil Rights Act?"

        I knew that isn't what we're learning because on the chalkboard behind her she wrote Berlin Wall. History isn't my best subject but my best friend, Leo, has this braniac girlfriend named Anna who says random facts and the Civil Rights Act happens to be one of them.

        I smirk and lean back on my chair before clicking my tongue and replying to my teacher, "it was 1964, Mrs. Sterling. And may I just say, you look ravishing today as usual. Did you do something with your hair?"