Page 9 of The Prom Queen Project
“Ground rules?”
“Yes. I will expect you both to earn no less than a ‘B’ in this class.” She paused and looked at Elliot. “That is directed at you, Mr. Keller.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He hung his head.
“Also, both of you will report to my classroom after school every Tuesday and Friday to study.”
“Friday?” I repeated as my shoulders deflated.
“Yes. Is that a problem, Ms. Taylor?”
“I have cheer practice on Fridays.” I frowned, a wave of defeat washing over me. A second later, my eyes lit up as another idea popped into my head. “What if I tutor Elliot here after school on Tuesdays, but instead of doing Fridays, I can tutor him Saturdays at my house?”
She squinted at me as though she were trying to gauge my sincerity. “I suppose it doesn’t matter where you study, so long as you both receive a ‘B’ at the minimum. You’ll be given additional assignments, and I expect you to complete them as well.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hawthorne. You won’t be disappointed.”
The teacher nodded at me and then stared at Elliot, clearing her throat. Elliot looked startled and completely lost. I nudged his shoulder.
“Oh, uh…thank you.”
“And one more thing. The two of you cannot get into any more trouble for the semester. If either of you does, then the deal is off.”
“Of course.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Very well then. You both may be excused. I expect to see you in my classroom next week at four o’clock on the dot.”
Three
“You had detention on the first day of school?” Meredith cackled. “Who even are you? Rue fromEuphoria?”
“No, she doesn’t do drugs. She’s more like Sam fromiCarly,” Kendra interjected.
“How about Wednesday Adams?”
“Nah. She would never wear black.”
“Guys! You’re not helping,” I groaned while crossing my arms with a huff. “It’s that stupid teacher, Mrs. Hawthorne! I swear she’s got it out for me.”
The three of us sat together at a circular table in the middle of the lunchroom as we pushed the food on our trays with plastic forks. Today’s menu consisted of a chicken sandwich with questionable sauce, partially frozen pepperoni pizza, and a bland mix of tomatoes and cucumbers on a mediocre salad.(I’ll let you guess what we ordered.)I engaged my core and arched my back, trying to resist the urge to slouch as I shoved a few pieces of lettuce in my mouth.
“Well, that’s what you get for taking some bat-shit crazy AP class. Seriously, Clarke, who are you?” Meredith frowned.
“Okay, what is this?Pick on Clarkeday? You guys know how strict my parents are. They didn’t really give me much of an option.”
“Okay, but at some point, you have to tell your parents you don’t care about college.” She shrugged.
“Too late for that. I already got into the University of Charleston.”
“Yeah, why the hell did you even apply for that?”
“My. Fucking. Parents.”
“Are you gonna go?”
“Dude, college is the least of my worries right now. How about we focus on cheer tryouts first?”
