Inappropriate

68

2:44 PM, I sat there staring at my phone waiting for the time to change and the bell to ring. I just needed to get out of here, fuck, I couldn't even breath correctly in here. I put my head down, keeping my phone in view.

2:45 PM, the bell finally rings after what feels like the longest day of my life. I shove my phone in my back pocket and run from the room before any of my students. I want to beat the bullshit traffic but that hardly has a chance of working out. I made it half way through the teacher lot when I heard someone call me. I turned and there stood Erica Straple, she would be a good way to get over Arie... She was hot... but not in the right ways

"Did you hear me?"

fuck, I need to quit zoning out while girls are talking to me. I tilt my head and try giving her a smile while shaking my head.

"Oh.. Well, can you still help out with ticket sales at the baseball game tonight?"

I nodded and let my smile fade after she turned back towards the school. Great, baseball, that's exactly what I needed. A shitty sport, played by a shitty highschool team. I hopped in my car and buckled my seatbelt, but the idea of being sucked out of a car going highspeeds was better than going to this stupid game. I drove home slowly, dreading the idea of spending my night listening to a bunch of sexually frustrated teenagers release all of the said frustration on an equally shitty team. By the time I pulled into my driveway I was ready to punch the first thing I saw, which would probably be breakable. I swung the front door open violently, making a B line for the booze sitting on my corner from the night before. I took two huge swigs and then dropped the bottle in the sink, taking comfort in the shattering sound the glass made. I made a small meal for myself, mash potatoes, two pb&js, and a chicken breasts. I ate everything in roughly ten minutes, not really bothering to taste my food. I left to change, regardless of what I wore the bugs would eat me alive, I would be miserable all night anyway. I slipped on a t shirt after I took my damn polo off and left the ugly tan shorts on that Arie loved so much. I dreaded the idea of getting in my car and driving to this game, I felt like I was sealing my shitty fate. I did it anyway, cursing myself for not being able to say no. The drive was miserable, not even my old death metal could help it. I pulled into the parking lot and jumped down, my feet nearly slipping out from under me- if this is a preview of what's to come I might as well slit my wrists right now to get it over with. I made it to the ticket booth, hoping to have limited face time with students. 

5:30PM, The game is finally open and kids are flooding in. I mindlessly tear tickets in half until I hear the conversation that piques my interest, it was a bunch of guys who looked like they just saw the loves of their lives. I eavesdropped while they stood in line, a little too curious about what they were talking about

"Dude, I never noticed her before"

"Wagner? she was always with those theatre kids"

"Wasn't she at Heather's party?"

"Yeah, but she didn't look nearly as hot as she does tonight"

"Dude, some mystery guy came and saved her drunk ass that night.... Someone said it was a teacher"

My face started to feel warm. I couldn't help but get angry... At myself... At her... At my career. I snatched their tickets and ripped them in half and mumbled some sort of "Enjoy the game" 

"I wouldn't be surprised. She's probably easy, take an hour long talk and some taco bell to get those black gothic panties on the floor" 

What the fuck? Arie Wagner? That's the wagner they're talking about? I could feel my blood boil but I kept myself calm. That is until I saw why they were talking about her like that. I tried to pull my eyes away but it was damn near impossible; The black jeans that hugged her slender leg, matched with a baby pink shirt that left barely anything to the imagination, stopping at her belly button. Her hair was in little curls that definitely would bounce when.... fucking stop, johnny, you're worse than the high school boys.  The light from her phone lit up her face, the amount of makeup she was wearing made her look nothing like herself. I turned back to the task at hand, trying to ignore the fact that I just very obviously ogled at a student.