Prophecy

What the Mind Can Do

He rolls his eyes, dismissing the scolding and waits till the teacher is engrossed in his lesson again before turning back to me.

"We can go to my house if you want, I can drive us straight from school."

I nod, casting a glance at the teacher to make sure he isn't looking at us, "Sounds good, but I'll have to talk to my parents."

He gives me a thumbs up and winks then grabs the stack of papers that was handed to him, he passes it to me and I look down at our assignment. Textbook reading and a worksheet. I sigh, and get started.

The room is silent save for Mr. Turner organizing papers in the front of the room than moving to his desk in the back. I hear him sit in the old squeaky chair, and realize with a slight amount of horror that James and I sit right infront of his desk.

Eventually even Turner falls silent, but the quiet is followed with a loud clang of something dropping. I look back, and so does the rest of the class, but Mr. Turner's gaze doesn't falter from staring at James.

James awkwardly stares back at Mr. Turner, and he looks over at me with an uncomfortable expression; what's happening? I grimace and shrug my shoulders. James turns back into his seat, focusing a little too hard on his work to be actually doing it.

Minutes pass and when I look back at Mr. Turner he's just staring at his keyboard, perfectly still. James catches me looking and mouths, is he still looking at me?

I shake my head and James visibly relaxes.

When the bell finally rings, my worksheet not even half done, James jumps out of his seat, already packed up and ready to go. He waits for me and just as we are about to leave, Mr. Turner stands from his desk.

"Wyatt, James, can you come speak with me after school today?"

James casts a nervous glance at me, "Umm, can't today, thanks for the invite though." He gestures for me to lead the way out but Turner's voice stops me.

"Perhaps I should rephrase, you will come speak to me after school today."

I nod, looking from my shoes to James, but he doesn't say anything in return, just puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me from the room.

As soon as we are out of the room, I release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Damn," James says, "what is that guy's deal? I mean I'd prefer Mrs. Bitita's endless assignments over that creep. I think he has a thing for me."

"Or he has it out for you."

"I guess we'll find out after school."

                               ~•~

The hallways are mostly empty, only a few people doing homework and some couples sitting on each others laps and looking at something on their phones. When I finally get to Turner's room the door is propped open and Turner is sitting at his desk, papers in hand. And no James.

He looks up when I enter and sets his papers down, leaning back in his chair.
"Miss. Collins, glad you could make it. Where is your friend?"

I shrug, "I dont know, he should be here." I say nervously. As if on cue, James walks in the door, hands in his pockets and a lazy grin on his face.

He comes to stand next me, giving me a wink then faces Mr. Turner.

"Please," he says, "take a seat." We do, though it takes me a bit longer to get my tank situated.

"So, why exactly are we here? I mean, we talked a bit in class but there are about a dozen other people who talked way more than us."

He has a point, I've talked in class while the teacher was talking but never was it a big enough deal that they called me in after school.