"Hey Blake," my twin brother, Michael, said as I joined our small group at the lunch table. Our group consisted of Michael and myself, of course, along with our friends Ashton, and Lindsey.
"What did Mr. Hemmings want to talk to you about?" Ashton asked as I took my seat.
"Apparently I got every question wrong on the worksheet," I shrugged. It was nothing new. "So he told me I have to see him for tutoring twice a week." I explained.
"Yeah, tutoring," Lindsey laughed while putting air quotes around the word tutoring. "Mr. Hemmings is hot as fuck. You better make sure you hit that." She continued to laugh, and Michael gave her an appalled look. Michael was a little overprotective over me...
"You better not 'hit that'," he glared at me forcing me to turn a deep shade of red. "I will not tolerate my little sister fucking our math teacher."
"Oh, Michael, shut up," Lindsey said slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "You're twins. She's only like 15 minutes younger than you."
"And that makes her my little sister," Michael said before turning his attention to me. "Blakelynn Destiny Clifford, I hope you know I'm serious. If you do anything with that man, I will not hesitate to chop his dick off. I know you're 18, but he would still be a pervert. So you both better pray to God that the only tutoring going on is in the math department."
"Do you really think that I'd do anything like that?" I raised my eyebrows at my brother. "I'm still a virgin, so if you think that I'd lose that to my math teacher, you're fucked up."
"I'm just saying," Michael put his hands in an "I surrender" motion. "You've been warned."
I shook my head. I couldn't believe we were actually even having this conversation.
"Mikey, nothing's going to happen. He's probably married or something anyways. And even if he's not, I'm sure he's not interested in his teenage students." I rolled my eyes.
"You never know," Michael shoved a French fry into his mouth.
"Whatever," I rolled my eyes wishing for the conversation to be done, and thankfully, it ended.
»»»
The rest of the day went by as any other typical day in the life of Blakelynn Clifford, and before I knew it, it was time to go home. I met Michael in the parking lot by his truck because he normally drove us to school. I was thankful that he was already there because I didn't really feel like standing in the cold waiting for him to get there.
It only took us five minutes to get home, and when we got there, our mom was standing by the door waiting for us. The look on her face wasn't hard to decipher; she was pissed off.
"Hey, mom," Michael greeted nervously. It wasn't often that she got upset with us, but when she did, you better run for the hills because things were about to get ugly. "You look great today, by the way. Is that a new shirt?" Michael complimented.
She wasn't stupid, so she knew what he was doing. "Cut the shit, Michael. You're not in trouble. It's your sister I want to talk to."
I gulped. Normally, I was the one in the clear, and Michael was the one getting his ass handed to him. I hadn't done anything worthy of requiring punishment, so her anger left me being confused as hell.
Michael gave my hand a little squeeze and scurried out of the room. He wanted to be as far away as possible when she exploded, and I didn't blame him.
"How is it your first day back at classes, and you're already failing math?" Her tone was much calmer and steadier than I had anticipated, but it still conveyed the sense of authority that I knew better than to mess with.
"I don't know," my voice was as quiet as a mouse. "You know it's not my strong suit, and we just got a new teacher, but he offered to tutor me, so I know I'll be able to get my grade up before the end of the year."
"I know that already, but I'm still disappointed in you. Mr. Hemmings called me earlier to inform me of the circumstance, and I invited him over for dinner after your tutoring session tomorrow."
"Mom! No! You can't just invite my teacher over for dinner! That's weird!"
"No, it's not," She rolled her eyes. "Just make sure your room and the bathroom is clean."
"It's not like he's gonna see my room. What does it matter?" I sassed. My room always looked as if a major earthquake had happened. Cleaning would take hours. I really wasn't in the mood to take care of it.
"Just go," she commanded to which I responded with an irritated sigh before trudging up the stairs to my room.
I stood in my doorway just staring at the mess. This was going to be hell.
I plugged my iPod into my speakers, putting it on shuffle as State Champs started blaring out. Deciding to start on clothes, I made piles of what was clean and what was dirty. As I was hanging up the clean clothes in my closet, Michael walked in and sprawled out on my bed.
"I didn't hear any yelling. What happened?" He asked, scrunching his eyebrows.
"She's pissed that I'm failing math." I rolled my eyes.
"That explains why you're cleaning your room," Michael laughed loudly.
"I wouldn't get too excited if I were you. She's probably going to make you clean yours too." Michael's laugher ceased, and he stared at me with a confused look.
"Why?"
"Apparently Mr. Hemmings is coming over for dinner tomorrow," I shrugged my shoulders, continuing to fold some t-shirts.
"That's awkward."
"Tell me about it."