Brandon

ten

OCTOBER

I tapped my foot on the linoleum floor, Mr.Carson's unnerving glare burned into my spot at the desk. Daisie, a girl who sat next to me, glanced at my foot for the seventh time in 30 seconds, obviously annoyed by the sound. I had been doing it for the past hour, I couldn't help it.

I was nervous. So nervous in fact my shirt crinkled from the sweat and my hand slipped on the pencil writing stupid math equations. Class was supposed to be dismissed an hour ago, but we were made to stay after when no one had finished their test. I had only 22 questions done when the bell rang for the end of school. There were 75 on the paper. I tried to get up and leave, two times to be exact, but Mr.Carson said in a stern voice that he would put a "big fat" zero at the top if I didn't finish before he had to go home. Turns out he left at seven on the dot every night.

I wanted to go home. I hated his class, hated him, hated this school. I was in a bad mood.

It might have been the bad day, but it was because of Brandon too. What were we? We've had sex twice, he didn't know the first time was my first time, so it happened again. It felt like hot and cold. Day and night.

If you kiss them and fuck them, doesn't that mean you like them?

I had no idea what was going on. He acted like he liked me, and other days he ignored me like the plague.

I snuck my phone out of my backpack, the screen was extra bright so I hid it next to my leg by the chair. I stared at the text message he sent earlier.

At your house.

It was all he sent. No hello. No how are you? Why was he at my house? I shoved it back into my bag when Mr. Idiot Teacher coughed in a way that told me he knew my phone was out. I stopped tapping my foot and started to jiggle my knee up and down. I couldn't fail this test. I wouldn't pass the class if I did.

I had two more hours since class got out at 4, but he was at my house. I wanted to see him. My heart began to beat faster, as I thought about Brandon. I couldn't focus on the questions once I imagined how messy his hair was or how he probably might wear his fancy work clothes to band practice tonight. I thought they were hot. Sexy even.

God.

I wrote down the equation Brandon wrote on my math homework assignment, and just put the numbers from the test question where the others had been. Wait. I looked at it again and touched my calculator for the first time in 20 minutes. This was the right equation. I forgot the other step, since Brandon had kissed me before I got the chance to look at the rest, but Mr. Carson would count the formula for more than half of the question points.

I quickly scrambled to write in all the other formulas I could remember and actually crunched some numbers in the calculator to make it look like I was being productive. Some worked out even and I thought they looked right. Right?

I shot out of my seat when I turned the page and the other side was blank and put my bag over my shoulder. Barely anyone was in the classroom now, maybe a few girls in my class and some extra who needed help. Mr. Carson gave me a surprised glance when I handed him the test and there were actual numbers on it. He flipped it over and over again. I wanted to roll my eyes so bad. He looked at the stick figures in the blank spots with cowboy hats and the "IDKs" on some questions and set the paper down in the finished pile he had. I smiled, actually feeling relieved and left the room.