[ S Y N O P S I S ]
Aiesha Carter, the girl who sat in the back of the classroom, minding her own business, and wishing her senior year would come sooner than later.
Heartbroken and completely devastated, she gave up trying to save her remaining...
Putting my combination into my locker without hesitation, I rolled my eyes at the sight of Devante for the first time today.
Coming closer to where I stood, he now wanted to show his face after having all morning to try and apologize for what he said at the pep rally Friday.
Ignoring him as the best I could, I didn't feel like looking at his face and not knocking the shit out of him.
He deserved it, but I had all weekend to talk myself out of doing anything that'll cause me to get suspended from school.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" He crossed his arms over his broad chest before leaning into the lockers beside mine.
"I don't think so," I mumbled before grabbing my books and heading to my third block class.
He must have bumped his head if he thought I would have forgiven him over the weekend. What he did was file and that situation needed to be understood by him.
Anyway, walking into my English class for the semester and making eye contact with Michael, the school's starting quarterback, I quickly broke it and sat in my assigned seat.
Why was he looking at me in the first place?
Making sure I didn't have nothing on my face with my phone's camera, I shrugged it off as the bell rang, signaling everyone that class has now started for the afternoon.
Putting my composition notebook on my desk and ready to get this class over with, maybe he was looking at the old notes from yesterday on the board behind me.
------at the end of the class-----
"By the show of hands, who has written a rhetorical essay before?" Mr. Stephens took his glasses off after an hour of lecturing and me shaking my leg so I wouldn't go to sleep from it.
Don't get me wrong, the man was a good teacher and deserve a pay raise. I just wasn't feeling it today and was ready to go home and crawl into my bed.
Closing the English textbook on my desk and sitting it on the ground, I raised my hand with a few of my other classmates.
"That's good," he slightly nodded his head at the show of hands. "Because starting tomorrow, we will start writing our first rhetorical essay in this classroom."
Groaning in the inside while the rest of the class spoke their minds, I stood up from the desk as the bell rang, telling us to go to the cafeteria to get a bite to eat before our final class of the day.
"Aiesha," someone lightly tugged at my arm to get my attention.
Annoyed that this person decided to stop me from meeting up with Alexis and the idea of food, I turned around to give this person a piece of my mind.
"What the fu-," I was about to say, but soon stopped when I saw Michael staring down at me with a small smile.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Oh h-hi," I stuttered, throwing all my confidence out of the window.
"I was wondering if I could walk you to your next class," Michael rubbed the back of his neck as we both walked out of the classroom and into the hallway to get out of the way of Mr. Stepehens' next class.
"I have lunch next block," I tried to sound unbothered, but on the inside, I was a mess.
I was an awkward black girl who got nervous when an attractive person talks to me or better yet make eye contact with my dull ones.
It was a problem and I needed to get it fix fast.
"That's good," he licked his full lips as he walked beside me to the cafeteria. "Maybe I could sit with you and your friends today?"
"Don't you have friends to sit with?" I looked up at his 6'2 frame while facepalming myself. I didn't mean for it to come out like the way it did.
He probably thought I was a total bitch now.
"If you want to call them that," he sighed while taking my books from my hands and into his. "Everyone gets tired of fake people smiling in your face after awhile, including me."
Agreeing what he was saying, I was surprised how level headed he was.
Unlike somebody, his head wasn't in his ass all of the time.
"You don't have to carry my books," I tried to take my things from his hands, but him stopping me in the process.
"I'm a gentleman," he smiled as we finally made it to the room filled with rowdy teenagers and angry lunch ladies.
"Thank you," I looked down at my converse with a small smile lingering on my lips for the longest time.
At least one rumor was true.
He knew how to say the right things at the right time.
"Want to meet up here after we get our trays," he looked down at me as we stood by the trashcans in the middle of the cafeteria.
Nodding my head at his words, we parted ways from each other for a short period of time.
Staring at the back of his dreads as he walked to the back of the line that served the hamburgers, I crinkled my head when a thought popped into my head for the first time since coming in contact with me.
Why was he all of a sudden talking to me after all of these years?
------
Devante's point of view.
Scratching the small stubble on my cheeks as Savannah took a seat on my lap, I ignored all the talking around me as I looked down at my phone in frustration.
Rereading the millions of texts I sent Aiesha through the weekend, she hasn't responded to any of them.
"Is that my ugly ass sister with Michael?" Savannah said in disbelief, making me look up at the sound of my best friend's name.
Squinting my eyes at the sight of him taking a seat beside her across the room, my heart started to beat faster when he pulled her body closer to his.
Why was she with him of all of the people she could have been sitting with?
Pushing Savannah off of me and hearing a loud thud on the floor, I quickly said my apologizes before going to person I needed to talk to the most.
----
Aaliyah • I Don't Wanna
---- AN: Hopefully this wasn't too much of a disappointment. ----
