I Want To Date My English Teacher

A Verbal Warning

A Verbal Warning

A few days later, I’m sitting on Alex’s living room floor surrounded by post-it notes. The whole floor is a neon ocean and I’m covered in little pen marks from where I’ve been writing so frantically and I’ve missed the paper, etching onto my skin instead. The script Gene had sent me is sitting to the side of me, which I keep glaring at angrily.

I’m getting nowhere.

Even the cork board Alex had excitedly bought me is not helping. If anything it’s just a hurtful reminder of how terrible I am at this and how Gene should not have put his faith in me.

My hands are shaking and I can’t concentrate.

My mind just isn’t willing to focus on this script. There are so many distractions around me. I mean, the script is decent enough, quite good actually, but I can’t see it inside my mind. All I can see are multi coloured post-it notes and they’re making me feel nauseous.

I’ve had over a hundred hours since Alex gave me the script from Gene, but it’s still as unfamiliar to me as it was when he first handed it to me. I just can’t see any of the characters inside my head and I can’t imagine any of the scenes.

The scene I’m given is meant to be an argument between the two main characters. I don’t even know what the argument is about, that’s how little I remember of it. My eyes are blinking frantically and I’m trying to focus but honestly I just feel dizzy. I keep drifting away to thoughts of real people, not just words creating characters on a piece of paper.

I haven’t seen Tessa or Aria in a few days, I haven’t seen my parents in even longer than that and I’m worried that something’s happened. Although, it seems unlikely that something bad would have happened if I’m honest, everything was fine a few days ago.

On the bright side, Alex has come around to the idea of Tessa being pregnant. He even came with me to buy her a cute ‘Congratulations’ card and some adorable yellow booties for the baby. I haven’t given them to her yet but they’re gift wrapped and sitting on the stairs in Alex’s house.

Sighing, I try and refocus and force myself to look at the corkboard. The colours blur in front of my eyes and I blink frantically, looking away. I pick up my phone for the millionth time and I sigh again. No messages, no calls, no updates; nothing of interest to me.

Maybe this is why I can’t concentrate. Reluctantly I turn my phone off and place it to one side, out of sight and out of mind.

This is better, I think and try and read through the script again. The words merge into a long snake that slithers about the page and as quickly as my eyes dart after it they can’t seem to follow what’s being said by the characters.

Sighing, I throw the script back to the floor and bury my head in my hands. Suddenly, a warm wet nose is pushing into my hands and I look up to see a furry face beaming at me.

Alex’s dog Sparky keeps coming in to investigate, but even he offers no help. He wanders away from me and trots around the room happily, nose to the ground and tail wagging. He comes back over and I loop my arms around him and give him a hug.