After Hours
Chapter Five.
Sawyer walked in a minute before the bell rang for fourth period. Ms. Asher looked at him and smiled, probably surprised that he had actually walked in early. Sawyer didn't mean to, but he noticed she looked exceptionally attractive today. Her blonde hair, which was usually up in a tight ponytail, was lazily left down, cascading past her shoulders and stopping to rest just above her elbows.
Although Luke had been right about Ms. Asher, that didn't mean it was morally correct of him to think of his teacher as anything more than an adult figure. Sawyer shook his head. It was nothing but an observation. He was fine.
"Good morning everyone," Ms. Asher smiled. "As you all know, your analysis is due today. Please turn it into the box on my desk."
Sawyer shook his head as he absentmindedly checked his backpack. It was of no use. He didn't write the paper. It wasn't just going to magically appear in his binder. Sawyer raised his hand and waited for Ms. Asher to call on him.
"I forgot my paper on my - er - desk," he lied, hoping it was convincing enough to slide.
"You can turn it in tomorrow, but the highest grade you can get is a 60%," she said, frowning slightly. Sawyer nodded and turned around to face the board. Maybe he really should start paying attention.
Class went by seemingly fast, and by the time it was over, Sawyer was more than ready to leave. He was embarrassed for forgetting to do the assignment, and felt like a huge failure. Sawyer wasn't known for great grades, but that didn't mean he purposely didn't do the work. He at least wanted to graduate and do something productive with his life.
Sawyer zipped up his backpack and headed towards the door, which was unfortunately crowded with teenagers. He rustled his hair with his fingers and sighed, glancing quickly at Ms. Asher before attempting to leave.
"Hey Sawyer?" She called quickly, looking up from her desk. He stopped in his tracks and looked at his teacher.
"Yeah?" He asked, swallowing hard. He was sure he was in trouble. Why did he care so much? With the rest of his teachers, he didn't care what they thought about him. But with Ms. Asher, he didn't want to come off as a stupid nobody.
"Can I see you for a second?" She asked. Yep, he called it. What would it be this time? Detention? Cleaning up her classroom? Thoughts ran through his mind as Sawyer walked agonizingly slow towards her and sat down in an empty desk.
"What's up?" He asked, setting his bag down by his feet.
"You're not in trouble. I just want you to know that I'm concerned with your grades right now," she said, staring intently at her laptop. She hadn't even glanced at Sawyer. Not once.
"I-I know. I haven't been turning in assignments lately," he grimaced, feeling horribly stupid.
"I hate to say it, but if you don't get your grades up, you might fail my class," Ms. Asher said, finally gazing quickly at him.
"Can you tell me what I'm at?" He asked.
"Right now you're at 65%," she said, stacking a few papers on her desk and putting them in a drawer. Sawyer avoided eye contact, feeling small and defeated. He just wanted someone to be proud of him, and obviously this was not that time.
"Is there anything else I can do?" He asked. This was his senior year. He wasn't going to fail a class and have to come back. This was it, his last chance.
"You can come in after school on Mondays and Thursdays to work on late assignments," she said, folding her hands together and looking at him. Her eyes were very brown, the kind of brown that gets richer and richer the more you stare, like a milk chocolate candy bar. Sawyer could not tear his eyes from Ms. Asher.
"When can I start?" He asked, clearing his throat when he realized he hadn't looked away.
"Thursday. Come right after class. I'll be here until 3:30," she said. Sawyer nodded his head, understanding that she was going out of her way to help him pass.
By the time Sawyer had stood up, the bell for the next class had rung. Ms. Asher looked shocked and grabbed a note pad from her drawer.
"Here. Let me write you a pass," she said, feeling bad that she had made him late. Sawyer shook his head and walked towards the door, finally gaining his sense of self back.
"Don't worry about it," he said arrogantly, strolling out of her classroom, not even glancing back.
Sawyer wasn't going to screw up his luck. He just wanted to pass his classes and leave. He had no time for anything in between.
But for some reason, he felt like his plan was not going to work out flawlessly.
Although Luke had been right about Ms. Asher, that didn't mean it was morally correct of him to think of his teacher as anything more than an adult figure. Sawyer shook his head. It was nothing but an observation. He was fine.
"Good morning everyone," Ms. Asher smiled. "As you all know, your analysis is due today. Please turn it into the box on my desk."
Sawyer shook his head as he absentmindedly checked his backpack. It was of no use. He didn't write the paper. It wasn't just going to magically appear in his binder. Sawyer raised his hand and waited for Ms. Asher to call on him.
"I forgot my paper on my - er - desk," he lied, hoping it was convincing enough to slide.
"You can turn it in tomorrow, but the highest grade you can get is a 60%," she said, frowning slightly. Sawyer nodded and turned around to face the board. Maybe he really should start paying attention.
Class went by seemingly fast, and by the time it was over, Sawyer was more than ready to leave. He was embarrassed for forgetting to do the assignment, and felt like a huge failure. Sawyer wasn't known for great grades, but that didn't mean he purposely didn't do the work. He at least wanted to graduate and do something productive with his life.
Sawyer zipped up his backpack and headed towards the door, which was unfortunately crowded with teenagers. He rustled his hair with his fingers and sighed, glancing quickly at Ms. Asher before attempting to leave.
"Hey Sawyer?" She called quickly, looking up from her desk. He stopped in his tracks and looked at his teacher.
"Yeah?" He asked, swallowing hard. He was sure he was in trouble. Why did he care so much? With the rest of his teachers, he didn't care what they thought about him. But with Ms. Asher, he didn't want to come off as a stupid nobody.
"Can I see you for a second?" She asked. Yep, he called it. What would it be this time? Detention? Cleaning up her classroom? Thoughts ran through his mind as Sawyer walked agonizingly slow towards her and sat down in an empty desk.
"What's up?" He asked, setting his bag down by his feet.
"You're not in trouble. I just want you to know that I'm concerned with your grades right now," she said, staring intently at her laptop. She hadn't even glanced at Sawyer. Not once.
"I-I know. I haven't been turning in assignments lately," he grimaced, feeling horribly stupid.
"I hate to say it, but if you don't get your grades up, you might fail my class," Ms. Asher said, finally gazing quickly at him.
"Can you tell me what I'm at?" He asked.
"Right now you're at 65%," she said, stacking a few papers on her desk and putting them in a drawer. Sawyer avoided eye contact, feeling small and defeated. He just wanted someone to be proud of him, and obviously this was not that time.
"Is there anything else I can do?" He asked. This was his senior year. He wasn't going to fail a class and have to come back. This was it, his last chance.
"You can come in after school on Mondays and Thursdays to work on late assignments," she said, folding her hands together and looking at him. Her eyes were very brown, the kind of brown that gets richer and richer the more you stare, like a milk chocolate candy bar. Sawyer could not tear his eyes from Ms. Asher.
"When can I start?" He asked, clearing his throat when he realized he hadn't looked away.
"Thursday. Come right after class. I'll be here until 3:30," she said. Sawyer nodded his head, understanding that she was going out of her way to help him pass.
By the time Sawyer had stood up, the bell for the next class had rung. Ms. Asher looked shocked and grabbed a note pad from her drawer.
"Here. Let me write you a pass," she said, feeling bad that she had made him late. Sawyer shook his head and walked towards the door, finally gaining his sense of self back.
"Don't worry about it," he said arrogantly, strolling out of her classroom, not even glancing back.
Sawyer wasn't going to screw up his luck. He just wanted to pass his classes and leave. He had no time for anything in between.
But for some reason, he felt like his plan was not going to work out flawlessly.