Chapter Twenty One

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"Rally day, baby," I tell Matty as he brushes his teeth and I brush my hair. He spits in the sink, and turns on the water
to rinse. He wipes his mouth dry with a washcloth, and whips around so he's facing me.

With the sight of his bronze skin, fresh from the shower, and smelling so clean, I can't help but press my mouth to his chest. He cradles my head in his hand, grasping the hair I just rid of knots. "You're gonna make us late, baby," he murmurs in my ear. The hum of his deep voice makes me want to call in sick and cuddle with him in bed all day.

"Like you care. You hate rallies." I continue to kiss his neck and slide down to nip at his abs and his sides, running my fingertips along the waistband of his boxer briefs.

"I think you're the only one who likes rally days. You and Mel anyway." He lifts my chin from his belly and bends down to cover my mouth with his. "You're insatiable, you know that?"

"You haven't given me anything to satisfy my ... needs," I whine. Both of us chuckle.

He takes my breasts in his hands and hunches over to suck on the skin plumping over the cups of my bra. "Oh really," he says. "Nothing?"

"Okay, not nothing." My fingers run through his hair and I let out a moan when I feel the suction of his lips get harder against my nipple that he managed to free.

"That's what I thought." He stands up straight, smacks me in the ass, and says, "Now hurry up. We still need to have breakfast."

"Breakfast my ass, you tease," I scoff at him. "I'll eat a Pop Tart."

I watch his tight ass walk away before I take my time getting ready, dressing myself in a hot pink v-neck sweater and a pair of jeans. I even bust out my pink Chucks for the occasion. This is one of my favorite rallies of the year. I loved
it when I was in high school. I think that's when I fell in love with football, playing powder puff—girls flag football—for the Sadie Hawkins game. They boys wear cheerleading uniforms and perform a choreographed dance while the crowd goes wild.

And then there's the dance after the game.

I asked Matty to be my date for the dance tonight. He wasn't too thrilled to chaperone but if I have to be there, so does he.

"You look cute, Shel," Matty says as we walk hand-in-hand to the car. Carpooling is great. I never have to drive, which is spectacular because I've always wanted a chauffeur. Especially one who thinks I'm cute.

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The rally went smoothly and my students weren't complete animals for the rest of the day. A thirty minute rally can really make the students do things they'd never do. Like toilet paper the quad, or spray paint "Seniors Rule" all over the
school, as if defacing their own school goes down as the ultimate pledge of school spirit.

But my kids are cool. None of them were fighting, they all looked sober, and very few ditched class. Can't say that to be true of my aide, Meg. Matty and Chase said their aides, Travis and Keesha, were M.I.A. too, so I know they went to
the Steel Grille. I remember those days. Not much has changed around here since I walked the halls of Carver High.

"You ready to go," Mel says, popping her head in my classroom.

"Yeah," I tell her, packing the last of the projects in my bag. "I'm just waiting for Matty to get here."

"He's coming down the hall right now, let's go beeyotch," she yelps, looking around like a crack addict to see if anyone heard her. I think she's safe. Very few kids are on campus this late.

"You ready for the game?" I ask her. "I think the juniors are going to kill the seniors this year. They have been practicing like crazy, even at the local parks when practice is over here."

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