A Shitty, Modern Day Love Story | 18+ ONLY | DDLG

Chapter Two

"Listen, I look gooood. John knows it, too," She says in response with a smile. 

"I know you do, I'm a little jealous," I laugh, joking with her. 

"Okay, everyone. Reel it back in!" Miss Hampton calls out and silence hushes over the room like a wave. "The bus will be here in 10 minutes for us to leave, pack your things back up and we'll head off to the bus!"

"Whoop!" Georgia says to me, I say the same in response as we put our things back in our bags. I really wish we could've known sooner, my anxiety is going nuts. 

----

"Holy shit," I say to Georgia as we walk off the bus together. "This building is beautiful, I've never really come to see it in person." 

"I know, right? I've seen it a couple of times before but only a handful - only when traffic was taken a different way than normal," She says to me, looking up to the building as we follow the line of people into the front doors. 

"I wonder what we would be doing if we got chosen," I mutter to her, keeping my voice low as we pass a lot of workers who are walking around doing various things. 

"I have no idea, but I would be happy doing anything!" She chatters under her breath. As a group, we slowly shuffle into an office room next to an elevator and we all take a seat. 

A man comes in, dressed in a fancy suit and squeaky shoes, and begins to speak to all of us with a loud, posh voice. "Please quiet down, yes, thank you. We're going to start the interviewing process. We'll be taking you, one by one, up the elevator to the office of which you will be interviewed. Your teacher will be with you during the interview process and your other teacher will stay down here to keep you guys... controlled. We'll start here."

The man taps the shoulder of one of the boys sitting in front of me and he nervously stands up, following the man and our teacher out of the room. Immediately, we all break out into nervous chatter with each other, betting on who's going to get picked and who won't. 

"Wait," Says the student from earlier. You can tell that he's a loud one, always willing to speak his mind. He also happens to be the next person up to be interviewed. "What happens to who doesn't get picked?"

Everyone starts to mutter to each other, repeating the same question and starting to get worried. 

"Will we get kicked out of the class?"  Another student asks, a girl this time. 

"Um, students, please stay calm," Mr. Brown says; the teacher who is helping Miss Hampton watch all of us. "I'm not sure what would happen, but I am absolutely positive that no one will be kicked out of the class."

The chatter resumes soon after he says that, everyone is mulling over the question and thinking out loud to their friends. I try to ignore everyone else and focus on Georgia, focus on not panicking. It doesn't help that we're going to be the last to get interviewed, me being the very last student. They'll probably pick everyone before they even get to me. 

Shaking my head, I try to refocus. 

"You know, it'd be cool if we could get some food," Georgia says beside me, looking up to the ceiling of the room. I giggle at that sentence, food at a time like this? I would probably puke. 

"I can't agree," I tell her with a short laugh. 

"Oh, I know. But I could totally go for a fat Subway sandwich right now. Just munch while we wait, be happy," She says to me nonchalantly. I shake my head at her and pull out my apple from earlier, offering it up to her. "Ah, no but thank you. Can't stand apples. I wonder what John's doing."

"You weirdo," I scoff and shake my head at her and lean over her shoulder as she brings up his chat. "My Hot Quarterback?"

She giggles furiously as she goes to their photos, brings up one of his mirror selfies, and talks to me with a voice almost like Gollum from Lord of The Rings. "Because he is SO hot."

I roll my eyes at her and lean back in my seat, pulling out my phone. A message from my mom sits on the lock screen. 

Can you pick up my Percocet prescription on your way home?

I turn off my screen and put away my phone, deciding to pull out my laptop instead - I love playing around with it. 

"You okay?" Georgia asks, looking over at me and eyeing my back pocket. 

"Yeah, all good," I tell her with a smile. It's just Mom wanting me to pick up her drugs, that's all. Nothing out of the usual. Georgia turns away with a satisfied smile, going back to her phone and her conversation with John. 

Shaking away my thoughts, I pull out my headphones and plug them into my laptop. Then I go about getting connected to some WiFi, not that hard. After I get everything connected, I pull up my Spotify and my email - planning to do some organizing. 

----

"Georgia? You're next, hunny," Miss Hampton says with a sweet smile, bringing back the previous student who got interviewed. I only hear her slightly between songs and I pull off my headphones, looking up and around the room. It's been about an hour and a half, we've all figured out some way to distract ourselves. Georgia stands up and dusts herself off, squeezing my offered hand nervously before she follows them out of the room. 

I can't believe we went through the interviews that quickly - I got so lost on my screen. The thought of heading out of this room and going up that elevator makes me sweat, the interview that could really help me out for college is 10 minutes away. I hope they pick Georgia at least, it would be a great opportunity for her as well. 

I sit silently in my seat as I stare at my laptop screen, not doing anything as thoughts race through my head. 

The minutes crawl by, but soon enough the door creaks open once again, and Miss Hampton's face peeks in as Georgia walks in, a nervous smile on her face. 

"What happened? Did you get picked?" I question her urgently before Miss Hampton calls for me. 

"They don't tell you, he's hot, you got this, go!" She whispers back, pushing me slightly to the door as I stand and quickly close my laptop. 

I nod to her and walk over to Miss Hampton, trying not to stumble. 

"Ready?" She asks me with a confident grin and a flushed face.

"Uhm, yes, I guess," I tell her nervously and follow her to the elevator, then watch as she clicks the top button - number 28. 

"Are you nervous?" She questions, looking over to me. You can tell based on the look on her face that she's trying to comfort me, but it doesn't really help. 

"Yeah, a little. How many people can get picked?" I ask her, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. 

She looks at me for a second, almost like she's deciding whether or not to tell me. 

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter since they'll tell you eventually, only 6 students can get picked out of the whole class of 22. That still leaves a decently sized class and gives them plenty to work with," She says, smiling at the idea. I'm not surprised she's so happy about it, she's only been working at our school for a year or two and she's already made such an accomplishment for us. 

"Oh wow, only six? That's not that many," I say, my eyes widened a little. The chances of me getting picked are so low. "Will the students who don't get picked just have the class like normal?"

"Yeah, pretty much," She tells me as the elevator dings. "We're here."