How Jesse Got His Karma

sixty-one

I swear I can never catch a fucking break whenever I'm in this school. Shit always goes left.

The one time I want to do some regular boyfriend shit for my girlfriend and surprise her at an event that I don't care for and my good for nothing Godfather decides to make my life at school an issue to deal with as well.

I only ever come to do these things for Karma and he's tainted the place for me already.

He can never wipe that annoyingly fucking smug look off of his face ever.

Of course, he donated money to the school. If I didn't know any better I'd say he has an alternative motive. He always does.

After the school finished kissing his ass for donating money for those calculators, I was stuck at the back of the school cafeteria watching the whole 'speed tutoring thing go down. Each tutor was assigned to a specific table and it was the students who were looking for tutoring that were doing the rotations, going from table to table to find someone that they enjoy talking to who could then become their designated tutor/mentor.

After a while, I got tired of standing here and decide to leave the cafeteria to walk around the school. I had never been here at night and I needed space to think. I can't be in that room where they play that fucking elevator music anymore.

They've been playing The Chainsmokers back to back and I can't stand to hear them singing about someone pulling them closer anymore.

I knew that I had a reason to dislike Mr.Maddow. How does he even know Joseph?

Joseph doesn't even have a kid that goes here so why pick this school out of all the schools, his own children's schools for that matter, to donate a serious amount of money like that.

I was walking around the school hallways and I passed my locker that I never really use. I probably should learn the combination to that but we're already halfway through the school year.

I stuck my hands in the front pocket of my jeans as I continued to walk and I saw Cyrus standing with his back pressed against the locker near his own. His own locker is open, drinking a bottle of Gatorade. I watch as he scratches the back of his neck before he turns his head in my direction with a sigh.

"I care about Justine, man. But that girl is working my last nerve," he grumbles to himself as he downs some more of his drink.

I chuckle softly as I point to his drink silently asking for one because I knew he probably kept some in his locker. When he hands me the glacier freeze flavor, I'm quick to take a sip, screwing the lid back on, "What'd she do now?"

He sighs, "Nothing. It's just I feel like she's kind of overdoing the whole gunshot injury thing. I don't mind the stuff she asks of me but the last thing she told me to do was kind of ridiculous if you fucking ask me. She--" he pauses, "She literally looked at the fruit punch that they had in the bowl on the snack table and when I went to give her a cup, she looked at the cup in my hand and said, "'You know what, boo. I don't know what they did or who made this drink and neither do you. Do you mind going to the nearest store and getting me the Gatorade flavored fruit punch?' Jesse, I was about to say no and everything but she looked up at me with those big pretty eyes of hers and I couldn't do it. So I said, 'Sure, babe. I'll be right back."