Tempted Fate |18+ (Ménage)✔

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Tears gather at the edge of my eyelids and I bite the inside of my cheek as they threaten to fall. Mr. Callender's voice relieves me only slightly when he says, "It's alright Ms. Rosewood," he pauses briefly before directing his question to Lonny, "Mr. Taylor, please answer the question...act two, scene one. Paris' line: Younger than she are happy mothers made. Please translate to modern text."

Lonny sighs and then scans the page quickly before answering, "Girls younger than she often marry and become happy mothers."

"Thank you, Mr. Taylor," Mr. Callender nods his head and resumes his lecture with our class. A stray tear that I cannot stop from falling escapes from my left eye and rolls down my cheek. I breathe in deeply and exhale through my parted lips, bringing my hand up to brush away the sadness that creeps up within me and surfaces.

I occupy the middle desk of the furthest row near the right side of the classroom, the warm sun flooding through the windows. Today's just not a good day. From the moment I woke, I knew...I just knew it would have been better for me to have stayed home, yet my mother persuaded me to attend my classes. I think she's somewhat afraid I might take my own life if I'm left at home alone...

...her fears are warranted...on some days more than others, I wouldn't think twice.

When the final bell rings through the halls, I know freedom is but a few yards away. The other seniors in my class are quick to stand and gather their belongings, chatting with one another about their plans for the weekend. For me, it's another weekend of holding myself up in my room and reading.

I love to read. The pages within the books take me away from this world and into one only made possible within the dreams of creators. If only they were real, I'd rather live in those stories then in this world with the way it's going...

Sighing, I close Romeo and Juliet, gathering my books and shouldering my book bag after organizing them. With the zipper sealed shut, I shuffle my feet across the floor in my black and white Converse. The hems of my deep blue jeans conceal most of the shoes, including the laces, save for the white tips. The gray sweater I have on I zip up to just under my chin, curling a stray strand of hair behind my ear, nearing the front of the classroom.

There are two stranglers taking their time packing up, Mr. Callender tilting his head to the side and watching as they seem to be having some sort of struggle packing their already filled bags. When I cross in front of his desk, he quickly says, "Ms. Rosewood-"

"Yes?" I cut him off, but my voice is merely a whisper.

When my eyes meet with him, he's sitting in his chair with a few graded papers in his left hand. He takes from his top desk drawer a small packet of papers bound together with a paper clip. Extending his arm and offering the papers to me, I take them without question. Mr. Callender sighs, "It's detailed notes about the lesson. I know you'll get it over time; I'm not worried about you falling behind."

"Thank you," I respond kindly. After my parents spoke with the school, all of my teachers help where they can to make sure I fully understand the lessons. I've fallen behind once and that set off a chain reaction and my family having to move.

I unzip my bag and place the packet between two of my books, my fingers fiddling with the zipper when it won't budge. Mr. Callender asks, "Can I help y-"

"I can do it on my own," I snap too quick and just leave the zipper pulled back, my emotions getting the best of me before I even have a chance to reign them in. Once I realize what I've done, I take a few deep breathes and apologize quietly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be short with you Mr. Callender."

"It's quite alright," we receive a few looks from the two students now leaving the classroom, leaving just myself and Mr. Callender. I don't really know what else to say, but he adds, "If you need anything else, please let me know."