I hate Mondays and you know what I hate more than Mondays? The answer is school.
Today is the first day of my last year of high school, and only now I regret not caring enough about school. Being 18 and having my 19th birthday coming soon is not something I'm very proud of.
I didn't exactly have bad grades; I didn't skip a lot and I wasn't much of a bad student. I would just get too distracted during classes, and honestly, at the time I really thought that playing Tic-tac-toe with my best friend was more entertaining than whatever nonsense the teacher was talking about.
Not very smart, I know. Because now I'll be spending more time of my life in school than I should if I had just listened.
Today should be the most important day of my senior life, yet I didn't feel like putting in the effort.
I sighed looking at myself in the mirror for a last check-up on my outfit, I wore black leggings and a baggy t-shirt.
"At least this booty looks good in these leggings," I said to myself in the mirror.
After battling against my laziness and my unwillingness to go to school I grabbed my small black backpack. Maybe too small for any real school supplies but I only carried my wallet and keys in it anyway, and a few snacks — we can't forget the snacks — I made it a habit to leave everything else inside my locker.
And so I ran down the stairs meeting my dad. He was seated on the sofa watching the morning news with a cup of coffee in his hands, he peacefully rested the cup on the table as he heard me coming closer, so calm, didn't even look like he was late to work.
I don't need a DNA test to know he's my dad, and we don't even look alike.
"Good morning, lazy ass, do you want me to give you a ride to school?" He asks as I went to give him a goodbye kiss.
"Morning — Nah, it's fine," I say looking at him amusedly. "Shouldn't you be at work already tho?"
"And shouldn't you be at school?" He argues in the same amused tone.
We were both late.
"Are you sure you don't want a ride?" He insists as I pick my longboard.
"It's fine, I think I can still make it in time."
Traffic in the morning is terrible, and every day I'm grateful that I chose to ride a skateboard rather than a car, I just sway in and out of traffic. But today it seems the universe is not on my side, the traffic is so bad I can't even pass between the cars.
The sidewalk it is. It's harder to skate and I have to cross streets but it's better than being turned into a hamburger.
I live about 10 minutes away from school riding my longboard and I have about 15 minutes to get to school, get my schedule and get to the classroom. Pretty sure I can't make it but let's pray to our Lord.
G-d? Remember when I said you sucked that day I broke my leg back in middle school? Well, I'm still salty you let that happen but we can put our differences aside for now and...
I was too distracted talking to the One above when I almost got hit by a car and to save my dear life I decided it was a good idea to just throw myself off the longboard and ended up landing my butt on the hard concrete.
Well, at least now I can tell everyone I got run over by a car and survived. Maybe I can even get away with P.E if I walk in limping.
The person quickly got out of the car to see if everything was alright, not on me though but on the car, the black-haired woman went to the front checking where my longboard hit, she ran her hand through it feeling a small dent.
I clear my throat in a miserable attempt to get her attention, "I'm fine, thanks for asking, ma'am."
At that, she finally turns around acknowledging my presence, she eyes me with her bored grey eyes. "You crossed the street without looking and you were the one that threw yourself on the floor, I couldn't care less if you're fine or not."
She's beautiful, it's a shame she's a total bitch.
"Ok?" I say getting up and picking up my longboard. So no extra money.
"Where do you think you're going?" She says crossing her arms.
"I'm leaving?"
"You damaged my car."
Uhm — I'm broke.
If you have enough money to own such a nice car then you definitely have enough to fix a little scratch.
I turn around and get a little closer, her silver eyes look dangerous. "I did not, you ran over a flying longboard, I couldn't care less if your car is damaged." Did I hit my head when I fell?
She raises an eyebrow, "I don't have time for this," she says simply, giving me her back.
Man, she's hot and even though she's rude as hell I couldn't help but check out her butt as she went back to her car. I'm not a pervert, I'm just a great appreciator of fine ladies.
And then it hits me, I quickly check my phone, I only have 5 minutes left until the first bell and I'm not even halfway there, Dammit!
I rush into the school building panting, the tardy bell has already rung about 3 minutes ago and I still have to get my schedule, I run to the secretary and then to the respective classroom, it's calculus, way to start the morning.
The corridors are deserted and I swear I will be throwing hands if someone decides to get in my way.
I had to stop for a hot second in front of the door to breathe before knocking softly on it. I'm almost 10 minutes late but I still had to wait a long-ass minute until someone decided to open that damn door and to my luck — it revealed no other than the same woman that almost ran over me just half an hour ago.
At this point I'm not even surprised, what's next? Is she going to run me over on my way back home?
She just stood there, leaned against the frame of the door wearing an amused face. Why? Because first, I damaged her car and second, I was late to her class, and why does that amuse her? Take your guess.
"Good morning Ms, I apologize for my tardiness. Something came up on my way here," I say with my best smile. On G-d this teacher better not hate me, I can't be here for another year.
"Come in," she says blankly, moving aside so I can pass through the door. "You have detention," she sneers just as I was about to reach my usual spot at the back.
This b...
She's lucky she has such a pretty face. I'm overall too much of a simp to confront pretty ladies.
Now seated I can finally look through my schedule. First period is calculus, followed by English, civics, and lastly ugh, PE. At least I don't have classes after lunch.
"As I was saying before I got interrupted," she says eyeing me. "My name is Ms. Evans and I will be your calculus teacher." Her voice sounds unbothered — I thought hot teachers were sweet — all the 'teachers falling in love with their students' books have been lying to me this whole time. "I don't tolerate nonsense: swearing, unnecessary conversation, and or noise in my classroom. If caught, you will get detention, don't think that just because you're a senior you won't be sent to detention. Any questions?"
No one raised their hands, everyone seemed too intimidated or maybe just too awestruck by her to ask anything. Her cold silver eyes scanned the room. "So let's start, take out your notebooks." She says making some students groan but they rapidly shut up once she turns around. This woman is definitely something else, I kinda like it.
Isn't she supposed to take attendance and do ice breakers to get to know the students tho?
I sigh glancing around the classroom trying to find any familiar faces and as I feared: none. This was going to be a long boring hour so I took my phone out to send a picture of my schedule to Soph, my best friend... and only friend, 'Do we share any classes?'.
Turns out Soph and I had every class together except calculus. Well, that sucks, I'll have to go through this whole hour alone with this crazy hot teacher. I'm not really complaining.
That is until I feel someone standing in front of me. Ah, Satan, why do you hate me so much?
No — Satan is not at fault here, I am.
I slowly lift my head and my luck couldn't get any better. Ms. Evans is standing right in front of me with her arms crossed.
She stretches her arm looking directly at the phone in my hands, she was quick to snatch it away and walk back to the front. She's obviously not playing.
I can't really blame her, cool teachers never really get the respect they deserve. This woman has definitely had her share of annoying teenagers.
But still, my phone is my baby, it should have been handled with care.
After that, the class passed awfully slow and the worst part was that Ms. Bootylicious would eye me with her killing eyes every time I dared start any kind of conversation with anyone in the classroom. So much so that all I wanted to do when the bell finally rang was to fly out of this classroom and cry my eyes out on Soph's lap, but I couldn't leave, I had to get my baby back.
I don't have anything to put in my backpack because I obviously didn't bring anything, so pretending to be putting my things away isn't an option. I just stood there awkwardly.
Ms. Evans looks up directly at me just as the last student exits the classroom as if she already knew I'd be there waiting. "Do you need anything?" She asks sarcastically.
I slowly walk up to her desk, "you have my phone ma'am," I say trying my best to make my voice sound confident. I'm panicking on the inside.
"Oh? And Why would I give it back to you?" She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow.
Uhm, because it's mine?
"Uh —" I start but I'm quickly interrupted.
"Choose."
"Huh?"
"Would you rather have your phone right now and have detention for a whole week or no detention but only have your phone back in a week?" She says picking it up from her desk, eyeing it cautiously, I can see a smirk forming on her plump lips.
Is this allowed?
I walked out of the classroom with my phone in my hands. Detention for a week, it couldn't be that bad right?
*G-d is just the religious Jewish way of spelling G"o"d.
Copyright © 2015 by ShayZayit - All Rights Reserved
A/N: I do not accept adaptations, translations, and full-sentence copies of my stories — if you have found word-for-word copies of this story, either here on Wattpad or in any other platform, feel free to send me a message or email me at shayzayit@hotmail.com with a link.