My name is Jo Green. I was born near Cottage Grove, Oregon. My father died of lung Cancer when I was three. My mom couldn't handle it, so we moved away from Cottage Grove. We moved the whole way across the country to Milton, Pennsylvania.
In fourth grade, I was collecting a bunch of books for my teacher, Mr Anderson (no pun) after school. They were large, purple textbooks we would be using for the rest of the year. They were for English. We would be studying verbs, adjective and nouns. I was so excited I had been chosen to stay after school for such an important job. I mean, Mr Anderson was the strictest teacher in the school and he'd picked me to do an important job for him.
I was whistling a song me and my best friend had made up, and I pushed the door open whit my small left hand, my right hand holding all the massive text books. I was glad there were only ten people in my class. As soon as there was a small crack into the room I shifted the books back into both my arms again and pushed the door open further whit my shoulder.
I stepped into the room quietly and placed the books on the nearest desk, stretching my arms. I looked down the room to se if my mom was was waiting for me. I turned around and gasped loudly, backings against the desk the desk scratched at the floor, taking the chair back whit it.
My mom and Mr Anderson broke apart, looking any ware but at me. I didn't say a word, I just stood there whit my mouth open. I can't believe it. My mom and my teacher had been making out on his desk. Where he'd marked my math homework only a half and hour ago.
I mean just EW.
"So Joel..." Mom pushed a lose strand of hair back. "I hope we meet again soon, but Jo has piano practice now." She smiled at Mr Anderson.
"Goodbye Mary. See you tomorrow Jo."
I was still dumbstruck at the fact that mom and my TEACHER had been making out.
And it seriously scarred me for life.
When I was in the fifth grad Preston Abraham (the HOTEST guy back then) asked me out. I was about to say yes, but then the images of mom and Mr Anderson came into my head. We could be doing what they were doing... EEEEW.
So I rejected him.
I went from popular to semi-popular.
When I was in the eighth grade Mark Shields tried to kiss me at the graduation dance. Again, he was amazingly hot. Again, the image came into my head. And AGAIN, I rejected him.
I went from semi-popular to nomad.
So now, in Sheffield High, I haven't been asked out at all. I've been nicknamed 'The Fuse'. You know why I've been nicknamed 'The Fuse'? Because if any guy asks me out I lash out at him, I snap, I blow up. Like a fuse.
And my mom is engaged to Mr Anderson.
Great parenting skills, right?
DO you want to Know how she told me?
I was sitting on our leather couch, studying for the science test. My mom came in, giggling. She had a glass of red wine and I was surprised she hadn't dropped it as she was twirling around the room I a black dress..
If she spilt that red wine on the ground I would have to kill her.
"Hey baby!" She giggled, sipping the wine and sitting down on the other, WHITE couch. "How was school" she slurred.
Well, mom, today I sprained my ankle in P.E, Which you can see if you looked at my leg. I got teased because of my hair, and I was called The Fuse almost seventeen times. "Good it's fun." I sighed and looked back down at my science homework as she blabbed on and on about stuff that she and 'her darling Joel' had done today.
"So how do yo feel?" She smiled.
I looked up from the strange scientific term in front of me and blinked a few times.
"What?" I asked.
"How you feel?" She asked again, still slurred but slowed down.
"About what?" I sighed
"Me and Joel getting married." She frowned. I thought I was talking about it clearly."
I blinked rapidly a few times, her and Joel... Married? I actually thought the whole thing in the fourth grad was just a fling. But now they'd been dating for almost 7 years. I mean, that seems like a committed enough relationship to me.
" Mom, I realized that you don't care what I think." I said truthfully. "But I say congrats."
Inside I was screaming AW, HELL TO THE NAH, *****. I MEAN, COME ON! HE'S MY FOURTH GRADE TEACHER FOR GOING OUT! I AM SO ASHAMED.
But all I did was smile sweetly.
She told me she was getting married when she was drunk, and I was more interested in whether she spilt her wine and my homework more than what she was saying.
She told me to nights before the big football game. The night after he told me HE came over an talked about it whit me. But really, all I cared about was the fact that my mom had her tongue in my fourth grade teacher's ear.
Talk about ew.
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