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“See you soon.”
*** *** ***
Banner and I got stuck in traffic for fifteen minutes due to a water pipe bursting, so I was late to meet up with Becky.
We didn’t have time to go over what we would do if Mr. Flint said something during class, as we were already running behind by a few minutes.
Out of breath, we rush down the hall to our classroom. We slow down to a stop when we reach the door.
Everyone is just taking their seats when I peek inside, and I begin to relax, glad they haven’t started.
“Speak to you after class,” Becky tells me, quickly taking a seat at her table.
I walk to the back of the class, pulling my books out on the way.
“Hey, Emma.”
I glance down at one of the lads in the class, shocked he knows my name. “Um, hi.”
“How’s your day going?”
I stare to the back of the room where my table is, desperate to sit down before Mr. Flint sees me. “Good, thanks,” I tell him, stepping away.
He glances at me, up and down, making me recoil. “Did you do anything special?”
I pause, not wanting to be rude and ignore him. “N—”
“Emma! Is there a reason you are holding my class up?”
The lad speaking to me winces, but instead of explaining why he was detaining me, he turns to the front of the class, acting like he can’t see me.
“No. I’m sorry,” I mumble, but loud enough so he can hear me. I quickly take a seat.
“Sorry? People here want to learn. I won’t tolerate your behaviour. If you can’t make it to class on time, then don’t come. And before you or anyone else get any ideas, this isn’t a place to pick up boys,” Mr. Flint snaps.
My face burns with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” I tell him, not wanting to argue with him. Everyone’s attention is on me, and it takes a lot for me not to run out crying. I hate being centre of attention.
“See that it doesn’t. And you can stay behind Friday after class.”
“But I—” The sharp glare he gives me has my mouth snapping shut and shrinking back into my seat.
There is no way I can be alone with him. Not a chance in hell.
“Not another word. I have a class to teach,” he barks.
My jaw drops, and I chance a glance in Becky’s direction. She’s turned a little in her seat, so she’s half facing me.
“What the fuck?” she mouths.
I shrug, mouthing back, “I don’t know.”
We both turn back to the front, not wanting to give him any more ammunition to yell.
All through class I’m tense, waiting for him to come to me. Even as we near the end of the lesson, my anxiousness doesn’t let up, every muscle in my body aching.
The clock reads nine-fifteen. I have five minutes left. I’m too busy staring at the clock to notice Mr. Flint step behind me. He must have gone around the side of the classroom, sneaking up on me, because he sure as hell didn’t come down the aisle I’m next to.
I feel his hands grip the back of my chair, his knuckles touching me, and I freeze, my back ramrod straight. Remembering what Becky said to do, I slowly slide my phone out from between my legs and place it onto my lap. Picturing the buttons I memorised, I press record. I just hope it works, since I didn’t have chance to prepare.
