Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I rapped a few more verses, watching as Andy clearly started filming a video he’d probably post to Instagram later that night, but I didn’t care. Finally everyone was awake and I had their attention again.
When the beat ended, I set down the microphone and returned to the whiteboard at the front of the room.
“Now,” I said. “Can someone please tell me the answer to my question, with the threat of MC MC-Squared coming back if I don’t get an answer?”
Zach smiled, finally raising his hand. “The Parallel Lines Postulate says that if two lines are parallel and cut with another line, the angles will have the same measure,” he said.
“Yes!” I said, scribbling it onto the whiteboard. “And somebody else tell me what that third line is called?”
Bless his little heart, Andy Benson actually raised his hand from the back and gave me my answer. “Transversal,” he said.
“Brilliant,” I said as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Everyone shot up out of their seats, practically flying out of the room like a bunch of startled pigeons. “Questions at the end of chapter eleven are due tomorrow!” I called after them.
Zach ambled up to my desk as everyone else left, giving me a shy glance. “Hey, Mr. Bailey?”
“Hey, Zach,” I said. “Thank you for taking one for the team, by the way. I knew you had the answer.”
He grinned. “No problem.”
“So what’s up?” I asked, sitting in my chair and stacking up my paperwork.
“Um, my… dad said I had to talk to you about the thing you do on the weekends? At the dog shelter?”
“Oh, of course,” I said. “I mentioned it to him hoping that you’d be interested. A group of students goes every other Saturday to Midwood-Amberfield Rescue. It’s not the most glamorous work, but it’s something to do, and we need the help. Do you think you’d want to join?”
Zach shifted on his feet, switching his backpack from one shoulder to the other. “Um… who else comes?”
“I host the volunteer group with Mrs. Broadwell, the art teacher here. I’m not sure if you’ve met Terry Goldfarb and Henry Danielson? They’re in my first period class.”
Zach shook his head.
“They’re very nice kids. Natalie Lister and Priya Patel come along. The only person from your class period who joins is Sophia.”
Zach’s eyes widened when I mentioned Sophia’s name. “She comes along?” he asked.
I nodded. “She’s great with the dogs.”
Zach swallowed. “Okay,” he said, finally nodding. “I’ll come this weekend.”
Clearly Zach was very interested in coming along now that he knew Sophia would be there. It was adorable as hell.
“That’s awesome, Zach,” I said. “I’ll email your dad the volunteer paperwork for you guys to fill out tonight. We meet at the front of the school, by the flagpole, at ten on Saturday mornings.”
“Ten o’clock?” I could hear the fear in Zach’s voice.
“Man, I miss the days when ten seemed early to me. Now I wake up at six thirty without even trying,” I said. “Getting old sucks.”
Zach laughed. “Being young sucks. I can’t wait until I’m eighteen.”
“Enjoy your youth while you have it,” I said. “Even if getting up by ten is hard.”
“My mom always said I sleep in too late, too. I think my dad will be proud if I get up before ten.”
“Perfect,” I said. “I’m glad you’re going to come along, Zach. We’ll have a great time.”
He nodded before heading out the door. I had the whole lunch period ahead of me to get caught up on paperwork, quickly eat my sandwich, and go over my lesson plans for next week.
I’d been perpetually behind all week, distracted and staying on task about as well as my students in the back row. I tried to pretend it was because of other reasons, but in reality I knew why.
I was still thinking about the other night, when Mitchell had kissed me for the first time since prom night, complete with tequila and everything.
At first, I had been convinced it would be a total repeat of prom, just fifteen years later. But this time, Mitch hadn’t run away. Instead, I was almost certain that he was leaning in to kiss me again when the front door of the bar swung open and Red walked out in his big brown boots, staring at me and Mitch.
“Well, fancy seeing you two here,” Red had said, giving us a once over. After a few moments of stumbling conversation he’d correctly decided that we all needed to go home, and that Mitch and I were in no condition to drive ourselves. Truthfully, at that point I was probably drunker on Mitch than I was on alcohol, and I was so hard my cock was making a wet spot at the front of my boxer briefs, but the point was the same.
Red drove both of us home. And then the next day, Mitch had texted me like nothing weird happened at all, picking up right where we’d left off, talking about some weird new Netflix show that we both started watching.