Teaching Mr. Graham

Chapter Sixty-Three

     "It feels so weird not to be walking you to class right now."

    "Now you can wake up as late as you want to," Tatiana said into her cell phone, entering the campus coffee shop nearest to the dorm she shared with Kenya. "And I can wake up later."

    "Your parents are still bogus for that move, if you ask me."

    "You're right though," Tatiana said, finding a table and seating herself. "There's something romantic about all of it. Not that it's...good. But...you know."

    "Talent show?"

    Tatiana raised her eyes to a gangly dark-haired boy extending a colorful flyer to her. "Pardon me?"

    "Talent show, right here. Three weeks for now. We're looking for active participants."

    "Will you tell that boy that this is an A and B conversation and he can C his way out of it?" Kenya quipped into Tatiana's ear.

    Tatiana laughed and pulled the phone away from her ear. "Umm...I'll take the flyer, but..."

    "If you don't want to participate, but know someone who wants to, just spread the word," the boy said, flashing her a smile.

    She smiled back, then lowered her gaze to the flyer in her hands. "Uh - thank you."

    "Sure thing," he said, slowly backing away from her table.

    When Tatiana raised the phone back to her ear, Kenya was already talking. "What was that guy babbling on about?"

    "Some kind of talent show thing they're hosting at the coffee shop," Tatiana replied.

    "Talent show? How old do we look?"

    Tatiana laughed.

    "Wow, he took me back to middle school with that. I didn't know college kids had talent shows."

    "Well, from the flyer it looks a little more sophisticated than amateur magicians and ribbon dancing, nothing against those art forms." Tatiana read through the details of the event.

    "Hmm..."

    "'Hmm,' what? What, 'hmm'?"

   "I think I'm getting an idea. Hold on."

    Tatiana rolled her eyes. "Oh, God."

    "Shut up, bitch - aren't you the one who told me I always know what to do? Hold on, wait a minute before I lose it." Kenya went silent for a few minutes. "All right. So, remember when you had that dumb idea to take um...blank up to meet your parents?"

    "Blank?"

    "I'm trying to be discreet. Focus on the rest of the question, though."

    "Of course I remember."

    "All right, how about...instead of taking him up to meet your parents, which would only result in an early grave for him and a nun's habit for you, how about you invite your parents to see you perform in the talent show?"

    Tatiana's brows furrowed. "Perform? Perform...what, exactly?"

    "A song. Poetry. Shit, I don't know. I can only come up with so much of the plan. You have to chime in here somewhere."

    "What would that do?"

    "It would magically open your parents' eyes to how talented you are, like in family movies," Kenya chirped. "And if you write something about... blank...whoa, almost slipped up there. But if you write something about him, then you could kill two birds with one stone. Let them know what an amazing writer you are while letting them know what an amazing man he is."

    The idea sounded amazing - in theory. But sadly, things in life weren't wrapped as neatly as they were in movies. Some people refused to open their eyes to what was in front of them. Tatiana felt like her parents were so stubborn, they'd be the only two people in the audience who wouldn't clap after she performed poetry. "I don't know, Kenya."

    "Just admit that the idea is badass, though," Kenya urged.

    Tatiana laughed. "It's a phenomenal idea. It really is. But..."

    "But it's your parents and they happen to be kind of lame," Kenya finished. "Not to mention, scheduling in time with them can be a bit of a headache since they both have busy ass schedules."

    "I just don't think they and I will ever see eye to eye."

    "You don't have to make up your mind today," Kenya told her. "Take some time. Marinate on it a little bit. See how you feel, think about what you would even write. Then decide."

    "I will."

    "Check for you later, girlie."

    "Thanks, Ken."

    "I might call you 'bitch' in every other sentence, but that's cause you're my bitch," Kenya said affectionately. "I'm here for you, girl. Bye."

    Tatiana pocked her cell phone and took another look at the talent show flyer before folding it up and pocketing that as well.

                                                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Aisha impatiently wrapped her fingers on her desk.

    The door to the classroom opened and someone who wasn't Professor Aubrey Drake Graham walked in. "Good morning, class. My name is Professor Heaton. I am filling in for Professor Graham, who will be out of class for awhile."

    Aisha's hand shot up into the air.

    "A question already? Yes."

    "Awhile?" Aisha repeated, her voice filled with irritation. "How long is awhile?"

    "I'm not quite sure."

    "But...he is coming back, right?" Aisha demanded.

    Professor Heaton, a medium-height blonde woman with cropped hair, made her way to the desk. "Time will tell when and if he returns," she responded vaguely. "I know that he is a favorite teacher for all of you, especially considering who he is. But I'm not sure about the details of his absence, and I have no firm ETA for when he will return to class. In the meantime, you have me. And I'm excited to read the work you've written."

    Aisha sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. All she'd wanted was for Tatiana's thotty ass to be removed from class. She hadn't expected that her antics would result in Aubrey being pulled from his teaching position. Seeing him was all she looked forward to each day. So how did she fix this? How did she get him back in class without getting herself in trouble. "Shit," she whispered under her breath.

    The girl seated next to her gave her a stank look.

    Aisha returned the stank look. "Do you have a problem?"

    The girl rolled her eyes and turned to face Professor Heaton.

    Ugh. I need Drake back in class. Pronto.