Confessions of a Teenage Caffeine Addict

40 // Roswell

The past is always with us, just waiting to mess with the present.

—Gossip Girl

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JAKE

MARCH

Derek didn't write his name in pencil. And he didn't write his name in pen. He actually typed it. Okay, I typed it but he texted to me to make sure I was typing it... letter by letter. Regardless of that fact, Derek's knee was still bouncing up and down, and for some reason, I couldn't stop playing with my pen. Mr. Douglas was making his way through the aisles, either handing people their reports or tossing them onto desks. I could only assume the people that were getting their reports thrown at them like a dodgeball did not do as well as the people who were getting their reports presented to them like they had just won the Nobel Peace Prize. Derek and I looked at each other but didn't say anything. I looked a few seats over at Ava and Katie who were flipping through their report and I'd be lying if I said I didn't see a red nine scrawled across the top. Not surprising.

Ava said something and Katie laughed. She covered her mouth with her hand trying not to completely lose it in the middle of class. I couldn't help but smile as I watched her try and keep it together. She looked over at me and her laughter stopped almost instantly, but there was a still a giddy, carefree smile on her face. I gave her a little wave and she waved back.

"Mr. Roswell," Mr. Douglas pulled me out whatever trance I was in. I jumped, a little startled and looked up, noticing he was at our table. Weird. Because a moment ago he was on the other side of the room. I glanced back at Katie to see her giggling at me. I felt my face heat up a little but had to laugh at that. "Mr. Leighton," he looked at Derek, holding a surprisingly crisp-looking report, devoid of tire marks and footprints.

"Hi," we said, because what else do you say?

"Even though I had to deal with the both of you two more years than I wanted.

"Wait, you only had us for two years though..." Derek interrupted.

"That's the point." Mr. Douglas ground out the words.

"Dude, shut up." I smacked his arm, afraid that any good grade we might have received would be changed.

"You didn't pay attention half-of-the-time coupled with the fact that you showed up late every single Tuesday..." he continued and I tried my best not to roll my eyes while I saw Derek slouching further and further into his chair. "I'm unexpectedly pleased with how this turned out." He finished on a much more positive note than I had anticipated

"And you can say the same for us as, right?" Derek shot up in his chair, returning to full posture and gave Mr. Douglas half of a hopeful smile, as if that would somehow affect his answer.

"Fortunately, Leighton, I still think the same of you and your hockey friend." He smiled, like, actually smiled at us, teeth and all, which is only the smile he gave to people he liked. I guess he really liked not liking us. It was practically a sport for him. A varsity sport.

"Good to know..." I made a tentative grab for our report before Mr. Douglas could change our grade. If it really was as good as he was making it off to be, I didn't want anything to jeopardize it. Not now. "We'll keep that in mind." I wanted him to keep walking so Derek and I could find out what his idea of "unexpectedly pleased was."

Derek and I both looked at the report, which was facedown on the table. The only visible wear-and-tear we could see was the crease underneath the staple, presumably from him folding the pages back and actually reading.