Big City Dreams.
Chapter 6.
"Mr. H?" I sighed. Mr. Hetherton, the brown-haired one, the one that taught English looked over at me, raising his eyebrows.
"What? Not setting anything on fire in my class today?" he asked, looking behind me for something. Zette looked over at me, raising her eyebrows.
"I'll explain later," I told her and then looked back at him. "But I wanted to know if there's any particular reason you're sending Mr. Minton after me?" I asked. He looked at me, sighing.
"We all think it's just a little weird that you seem to cause a problem in every class, except his," he told me, shrugging. "Unless you have an explanation."
"He knows that when he's having a problem with me, he should have the balls to talk to me himself," I said, crossing my arms.
"Now that was out of line," Mr. H growled.
"So was sending another teacher after me!" I exclaimed. "If you have a problem with me, it's the adult thing to come talk to me yourself." He stared at me, pointing at my seat.
"Sit," he said. I shook my head.
"No," I said back. "I don't respect people who don't respect me. And I don't listen to teachers I don't respect me." He shrugged, going over to his desk.
"Fine," he sighed. "Then go to dentition. I don't really care," he added, scribbling out a detention slip, and handing it to me. I shrugged, looking over at Zette and shrugging.
"Meet you by the front door after school," I told her, heading out the door.
As I said, I really didn't care what happened to me these days. School was almost over and I was going to graduate and this'd all be over with. Plus, it was kind of lame to send someone else after me. It was lame.
The second I walked into detention, I was both pretty excited and upset to see which teacher was in there that period.
"Em, what'd you do this time?" Mr. Minton asked as I walked in. I shrugged, handing him the slip and sitting at the desk closest to him, nodding to the couple kids who were usually in there.
"You were being insubordinate and yelled at Mr. Hetherton," he sighed, looking from the slip to me. "I thought you told me you were going to be good." I shrugged, leaning towards him.
"Well, I think if he had a problem with me, he probably should have told me himself," I mentioned. "I mean, it's not a particularly hard thing to do." He shook his head.
"I don't understand you. Most kids are good in the classes they're doing well in, or acting up in the classes they're doing bad in. You're doing the opposite," he told me. "Why?"
"Because I like history?" I offered. "Plus, you're the nicest out of all of them." And the best looking, I added in my mind. "I'm good in your class because you're a good teacher who respects his students. Mr. Paul yells at everyone, Mr. Davies keeps calling me Emily and the Mr.H's apparently have no balls. It's not my fault." He sighed, shaking his head.
"Just...do something," he told me. "You have history homework, do that." I nodded, going through my bag and pulling it out. I looked at the sheet, realized I could have this done in a minute or two and sighed.
"Could you maybe help me with this, Mr. Minton?" I asked, biting my lip. He stared at me for a second before nodding, looking down at his papers and pushing most of them to the side.
"Yeah, yeah. Just pull your chair over here," he sighed. I nodded, doing exactly what I was told to do, smiling a little. I was pretty freaking close to him right now and he smelled amazing.
"What? Not setting anything on fire in my class today?" he asked, looking behind me for something. Zette looked over at me, raising her eyebrows.
"I'll explain later," I told her and then looked back at him. "But I wanted to know if there's any particular reason you're sending Mr. Minton after me?" I asked. He looked at me, sighing.
"We all think it's just a little weird that you seem to cause a problem in every class, except his," he told me, shrugging. "Unless you have an explanation."
"He knows that when he's having a problem with me, he should have the balls to talk to me himself," I said, crossing my arms.
"Now that was out of line," Mr. H growled.
"So was sending another teacher after me!" I exclaimed. "If you have a problem with me, it's the adult thing to come talk to me yourself." He stared at me, pointing at my seat.
"Sit," he said. I shook my head.
"No," I said back. "I don't respect people who don't respect me. And I don't listen to teachers I don't respect me." He shrugged, going over to his desk.
"Fine," he sighed. "Then go to dentition. I don't really care," he added, scribbling out a detention slip, and handing it to me. I shrugged, looking over at Zette and shrugging.
"Meet you by the front door after school," I told her, heading out the door.
As I said, I really didn't care what happened to me these days. School was almost over and I was going to graduate and this'd all be over with. Plus, it was kind of lame to send someone else after me. It was lame.
The second I walked into detention, I was both pretty excited and upset to see which teacher was in there that period.
"Em, what'd you do this time?" Mr. Minton asked as I walked in. I shrugged, handing him the slip and sitting at the desk closest to him, nodding to the couple kids who were usually in there.
"You were being insubordinate and yelled at Mr. Hetherton," he sighed, looking from the slip to me. "I thought you told me you were going to be good." I shrugged, leaning towards him.
"Well, I think if he had a problem with me, he probably should have told me himself," I mentioned. "I mean, it's not a particularly hard thing to do." He shook his head.
"I don't understand you. Most kids are good in the classes they're doing well in, or acting up in the classes they're doing bad in. You're doing the opposite," he told me. "Why?"
"Because I like history?" I offered. "Plus, you're the nicest out of all of them." And the best looking, I added in my mind. "I'm good in your class because you're a good teacher who respects his students. Mr. Paul yells at everyone, Mr. Davies keeps calling me Emily and the Mr.H's apparently have no balls. It's not my fault." He sighed, shaking his head.
"Just...do something," he told me. "You have history homework, do that." I nodded, going through my bag and pulling it out. I looked at the sheet, realized I could have this done in a minute or two and sighed.
"Could you maybe help me with this, Mr. Minton?" I asked, biting my lip. He stared at me for a second before nodding, looking down at his papers and pushing most of them to the side.
"Yeah, yeah. Just pull your chair over here," he sighed. I nodded, doing exactly what I was told to do, smiling a little. I was pretty freaking close to him right now and he smelled amazing.