Henry Jones
8/18
I sat behind you in math class today.
You were wearing an Oakley flannel hoodie and black pants. It was just so you that it brought a smile to my face but it was quickly wiped off once I saw how rigid and uptight your form was.
The way you anxiously tapped your pencil on the desk, looking back and forth between the math equations on the board and your paper made my heart heavy.
I did not know how to help you but I felt so overwhelmed for you that I had to try and let me tell you, I was not so happy when I found out why.
You are failing math class. I know this because we got our math test scores passed back to us this morning. You were not too thrilled about yours. I had leaned forward so all my weight was against the desk and discretely glanced over your shoulder and saw why.
A big fat F was scribbled on your paper. This was your third one in the past two months.
We have final midterms coming up and if you do not pass it, you will not be able to graduate, Henry. You were on the top of your grades at the beginning of the year, how have you let it plummet so greatly?
You are ruining any shred of chances you have at getting into UCLA like you have always dreamed of and I will not stand for it.
Yours
YOU ARE READING
Forever Hers
Short StoryIn which a girl writes a series of letters to the boy she loves and things take a dangerous turn when she learns he has his eyes on someone else.
