Writing is never fucking easy, especially when you're under pressure and stressed because the due date is less than a week away. Ms. Dovenhall, my English teacher, loves to stress everyone out and give us two weeks for a 700-word research paper. English has never been my favorite. I've always loved science.
Ms. Dovenhall is threatening to fail me since it's the fourth quarter of the year and my overall grade is a 58 F. She's forcing me to get a tutor, which will probably be someone a grade higher and more stuck-up than Britney Houston, a popular girl in my grade, is. I've despised Britney since middle school when she moved to Montgomery from Detroit, Michigan and began starting shit with all the "popular" girls, finding herself at the top.
"Miss Taylor, since you cannot pay attention, we need to speak after class," Ms. Dovenhall's snarky voice rang through the classroom and I bit back a remark. She's a boring asshole teacher who mostly likely drove her husband and four kids away with her bitchy attitude. I ignored the comments from my peers and glared holes into the chalkboard. Britney snickered, throwing her blonde hair off her shoulder with her perfectly manicured nails. Typical bitch. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and pretended to pay attention to the vocabulary on the chalkboard. My eyes were really focused on a certain brown-eyed football player in front of me, only two desks ahead.
Calum and I were friends once, a while ago. I mean, we grew up together. When I was two, my parents got a divorce and my mother got full custody of me and my older sister. We moved in the house across the street from the Hood's. My mom and his mom became really close, which meant Calum and I hung out a lot. When we got into middle school, however, we hit a few obstacles. In 7th grade, Calum started gaining boy hormones and developed crushes on girls. I never saw him more interested in the girls in our grade before. We used to make fun of them, less than a year before, about how they started wearing mascara and they looked weird. By then, most of the girls had started developing breasts and Calum was really paying attention, along with all the others. I was a late developer. I didn't start growing breasts until freshman year. Britney Houston had developed early. She bragged about how hers grew while she was still in elementary school, and Calum was like a lovesick puppy. Of course, by eighth grade, Calum had grown more mature but our friendship started to die down when he began playing on our school's football team to get closer to cheerleader Britney. He began getting closer to the other jocks and distant with people like me. Late in eighth grade, we stopped talking. He stopped coming over to my house, he stopped calling and asking to hang out. I eventually grew used to it, but that doesn't mean I don't miss him.
Apparently class was over when I zoomed back in because everyone was filing out of the classroom, and Calum's seat was empty. I sighed, picking up my things from the floor and placing them on my desk, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. After everyone left, Ms. Dovenhall called me over and I stood, leaving my things on the desk and walked towards hers.
"Sarah Jane," Ms. Dovenhall sighed, intertwining her hands together, placing them on her desk, "I understand that English is not a very easy subject for you, but not paying attention in class will not help bring your grade up."
I forced an understanding nod, biting the inside of my lower lip.
"I have brought it up to you already about finding you a tutor, yes?" She asked, raising her thin brown eyebrows as her right, horribly dark blue painted fingernails tapped against the surface of her desk. I nodded again, biting my tongue now to keep from responding with a bitter remark.
"Okay, well, I believe I have found you someone who will be a remarkable tutor." She turned her focus to the classroom door behind me and called, "You can come in now." Out of curiosity, I turned to see who my future tutor would be and I was surprised to see a pair of chocolate brown eyes I thought would never look at me again.
"Calum, this is Sarah Jane, the girl you will be tutoring." Calum gave me a small smile and a wave. I turned my focus back to Ms. Dovenhall because I felt nervous just looking at him. "Calum has an average of ninety-three percent in my class and will be a wonderful tutor for you."
I turned my attention back to Calum. He was wearing his blue, gray, and white--our school colors--Letterman jacket with a plain white t-shirt underneath. Dark blue jeans with rips at the knees hugged his legs loosely, and he was wearing a pair of worn down old tennis shoes. I also noticed the section of blond in his dark, brunette hair. It must've been recent because I've never seen it there before. He had a friendly smile on his face as he paid attention to what Ms. Dovenhall was saying. His gaze moved to me and I quickly looked over at the teacher as if I hadn't been staring.
"...you will be tutoring after school, staring next week; the days are completely up to you as long as it's three times a week, including once on the weekends. I know that you practice usually on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, Calum, but I'm sure you'll be able to fit at least an hour of tutoring three days a week into your schedule--" Calum gave her a nod and a "yes, ma'am," right before she turned to me, "and Sarah, you don't participate in any extra curricular activity, so no excuses for you." I nodded for the third time and finally she dismissed us, and I don't think I've ever left her room faster.