Penny For Your Thoughts? [unedited]

c h a p t e r • t w e l v e

••••••••••••••••chapter twelve••••••••••••••••••

T/W
RAPE MENTION
CURSING

Eventually, a professor decided to grace us with his presence.
After waiting about half an hour, a man walked in with his frown on his face and a coffee cup in his hand. He was an older scraggly man, around my Dad's age. He wore sweatpants and an old "Wadlington Weavers" football shirt that had seen better days.
Instantly, it was clear that he was one of those teachers who couldn't give two shits about actually teaching.

Along with him came a few late students, and among them was a face I was not looking forward to see.
I locked eyes with him, and instantly regretted it.
He made his way to wear Sunny and I sat, a smile tugged onto his lips. He sat next to me as I tried to keep my eyes focused on the front of the classroom.

"So, Penny Weaver. Who'd've thought she was the type of girl to down 18 shots." He grinned.

I rolled my eyes and turned to him.
"Please don't bring up that night. I was delusional and emotional, and it was a mistake."

He laid back in his seat and smiled.
"Sorry, I'll drop it."

"What are you even doing here? I thought you lived in Tampa." I asked as I abruptly turned towards him.

"No," He corrected. "I'm from Tampa. I was visiting my grandma over the break and what do ya know, you happen to be there."

"And you go to Wadlington?" I asked, knowing it's a stupid question.

"I mean, I wouldn't be sitting in on this lecture if I wasn't a student here." He deadpanned, causing me to roll my eyes and turn my attention away from him again.

"Hey, I don't see why you're upset with me." He said as he flashed me a curious look.

"I'm not upset." I retort. "But if my brothers find out that we got drunk together on a whim, we'll both be thrown into unmarked graves."

"Well then they just don't find out. Simple. That way, you can stop being bitter."

"I am not bitter!" I say bitterly with a bitter expression.

He raised an eyebrow amusingly and I realized that I was being sort of a bitch. It's not his fault that we had a fun one night, it's not right to give him the cold shoulder.

"Fine, whatever." I crossed my arms over my chest as we both turned back to the front of the room.

Silence filled the air as we watched the teacher pop three ibuprofens, then swivel around in chair as if he was the bored one.