Tutoring the Bad Boy

I Have the Speed and Energy of a Turtle Running Through Peanut Butter

A/N Day 1 of 18 for continuous updates. Yesterday was like the intro.

So yeah. Stuff happens in this chapter. But when doesn't it?

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*Kaitlyn MacDonald*

The next day at school, I don't see Drew at all, and this time I don't think he's skipping. I trudge through my day with the speed and energy of a turtle running through peanut butter, wallowing in self-pity. I know that I pushed Drew too hard yesterday, but I don't know why.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. I stand up robotically and throw my trash away, not missing the concerned looks Beth and Parker are giving each other.

Turning around, I face them. "Guys, I'm fine, okay? Just leave it for now, I'm not in the mood."

"Wait." It's Parker.

"What do you want now? Just say I told you so, that you were right about Drew." Why can't people just let me walk away without bothering me?

Parker blinks. "Lyn, what are you talking about? I was just going to say your backpack was unzipped." Then, his eyebrows furrow as he contemplates my words. "Did something happen with Drew? Is that why you're so moody?"

My silence is enough of an answer for him.

"Told you it wasn't her time of the month! Pay up, boy," Beth cackles as she holds out her hand expectantly. Parker sighs before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a Starbucks giftcard.

"Don't spend it all at once, crazy." Beth gleefully clutches the piece of green plastic and skips out of the lunchroom. I can hear her singing in the halls and I wince, for Beth does not have a voice that people voluntarily listen to. Which reminds me, I need to get to class.

"I'll catch you later, Parker," I say, shouldering my bag and quickly making my way towards the door.

"Kaitlyn, what happened with Drew?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me what happened? I'm fine!" With that I storm out of the door and down the hallway, shoving past people in an effort to get away. But from what, I don't know.

My stomach twinges and I grimace. Today is not my day.

Walking into Lang, I'm not prepared for what I see on the board.

"Congratulations, Kaitlyn!" reads the black marker. It's written in Ms. Montgomery's flowy handwriting, her curvy letters swooping across the whiteboard. I'm still staring at the board as I slide my backpack off my arm and onto the floor.

The bell rings again, signaling the beginning of class, and Ms. Montgomery stands up from her swivel chair.

"Good afternoon, class," she begins. "I know you all must be wondering why the congratulations on the board is in order. But this is what I'm here to tell you. Do you all remember the essays you wrote at the beginning of October?"

Lots of head-nodding follows her statement.

"And do you all remember what I said the prize would be?"

"No Lang midterm in December!" calls out someone from the back of the classroom. I look back at the familiar voice and am slightly surprised to see Blake Daniels sitting in a desk next to Chelsea Tempest. I didn't know either of them were in this class. But nevertheless, I am determined to not worry about any of this right now.

"That is correct, Mr. Daniels. Only next time, please refrain from shouting out. We have hands for a reason, and it's probably not the one you use them most for." The rest of the class riots, throwing paper balls at Blake and making random noises. Ms. Montgomery waits until her 5th period AP Lang class quiets down before continuing. "As Mr. Daniels correctly said, the essay writer I feel was the best from each class will not have to take the midterm the rest of you will. And in our class, as you may have already guessed, the winner was Kaitlyn MacDonald!"