“Jordan Scott Brantley, I know you are in there! Unlock this damn door, NOW!”
“Who is that?” I asked, scared.
“I-I, uh, well Ami, the only 2 people that calls me by my full name is my ex-wife and my mother. Hold on, I’ll check.” He stammered as he walked to the locked door.
The door flew open to reveal a short, older lady who I’d roughly guess to be around her late forties-early fifties. “Why the hell did you have the door locked, Jordan? I told you to be expecting me today. I wanted to help you get ready,” she said as she walked through the door with a handful of bags, a globe, and what I assumed to be maps rolled up under her arm. Then she saw me. “And who is this pretty little thing?” she said walking toward me, while dumping everything that was in her arms onto Jordan, who was now sitting in his chair.
“Mom, this is Amerianna or Ami for short. Ami, this is my mom, Charity.”
Before I knew what was happening, Charity was barreling towards me with her arms wide open to hug me. “Uhm..” I stammered, “hi, nice to meet you, Mrs. Brantley. It’s nice to meet you.”
Jordan stood up, shaking his head as if to tell me not to continue with my sentence; it was too late.
“Good Lord in Heaven, no. Mrs. Brantley is a good-for-nothing, husband stealing, home wrecker. Either call me Charity or mom,” she said with her hand on her hip shaking a finger at me like I was 2 rather than 17.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Brant—I mean, Charity, I didn’t know any better.”
“Don’t worry about it, dear,” she said, “so, tell me, what are you to my son?”
I was confused by her question, but before I could answer, Jordan interjected. “She’s a student, mom. Oddly, Ami here is the only senior that wanted to take history first thing in the morning, so she’s my only student right now.”
Charity shrugged. “Fair enough,” she replied cheerfully, still looking between Lance and me, “don’t just stand around you two, help me get the room ready for the year.”
The rest of the period was filled with small talk about summer break and guard, but I knew something was bothering Jordan just from the look on his face. “Mr. Brantley?”
Just before he could answer the bell rang to signify that free period was here. “We can talk in the mess hall. I’ll get you a coffee or something,” he said to me. “Mom, we’ll be back. We are heading to the mess hall to get some coffee, do you want anything?”
“Just grab me a grape juice and water, honey.” She yelled over the power drill she was using to put together a book shelf.
We walked through the crowded halls towards mess hall and I kept hearing the girls commenting on how cute and sexy he was, questioning if he was single, how they’d like to lay him and it made my blood boil with jealousy. I don’t know why, I don’t even like the guy – okay, maybe I have a slight crush on him, but that’s no reason to be jealous, is it?
Sorry this chapter is so short. When I started writing, I was just typing it out. But in doing that , I would end up spending hours on in in front of the computer with my mind running 2-40 trying to organized my thoughts to write, so I've decided to start writing it out and THEN typing it. I can get a solid idea out onto paper and then to all of you.. WHICH MEANS, it might take a tad bit longer to upload. *SORRY* I hope you are all enjoying the story though.
Vote, Comment, Fan. ♥
