Angel
I hate being new. To anywhere. Especially high school. I'm a junior and this is the fourth school I've attended. Somehow I'm caught up with all the things that we're required to learn.
I don't have any friends. I've stopped trying after the second time I moved. It's hopeless since I have no idea when we're going to move again. Plus, the schools aren't really that great. Neither are the students.
I've never had a boyfriend, though I've had my first kiss and I'm not a virgin. I'll be seventeen next semester, but I know I'm not going to get any gifts. That's just the way it is.
"Angelica Torres," my teacher calls.
I pull my head up slowly and rub my eyes. I glare at him.
"Yes, Mr.Johnson?"
"Please pay attention in my classroom or leave. NO SLEEPING," he says sternly.
"Yes sir," I mumble. "It's not like you have many students anyway. Might as well stay."
I'm pretty sure he heard that, but he said nothing.
I never got into trouble. It wasn't because I never did anything stupid, it was because I had the highest GPA in the school. A few others have High GPAs as well, but after number twenty-five, the numbers plummeted to the 1.5s.
"Oh, that reminds me," Mr.Johnson starts. "You are to report to the office during lunch."
All eight people in the class "oooo" at me and it takes all of my strength not to flip them off.
When lunch finally comes around, I drag myself over to the front office, semi-thankful that I won't have to sit alone for the billionth time.
I walk in and flash a tight smile to the woman sitting at the front desk.
"Angelica Torres?" she asks.
I nod.
"They're waiting for you in the auditorium," she says.
I give a big sigh and walk out.
Why do they need me in the auditorium? I'm not in theater or anything.
When I arrive, there is a sign on the door that says:
Only these students are allowed inside:
-Angelica Torres
-Joseph Jackson
-Angelica Torres
-Joseph Jackson
Why are there only two students?
Walking in, I begin to worry that the Joseph guy might try to hurt me. It's dark.
All of a sudden I hear, "Take a seat, Angelica."
I sit in what I think is a front row seat and am suddenly blinded by stage lights.
When my eyes adjust, I see Principal Allen sitting on the edge of the stage. There are some papers in his hands.
"Hello Angelica. Hello Joseph."
I turn in my seat to see a dark figure sitting in the middle seat of the auditorium.
"Would you be so kind as to join us in the front, Joseph?" Principal Allen asks.
When Joseph walks over, I nearly faint. He's absolutely gorgeous.
He's about six feet tall with dark skin and a stubble of hair on his head. His white t-shirt is tight enough to show his very well defined arm muscles. I can see a tribal-like tattoo peeking out of the right sleeve. His dark jeans fit perfectly on him and his Air Jordans tie together his entire tough guy look.
"Thank you, Joseph," Principal Allen says. "I've called you both here to talk about Joseph's grades. They are atrocious, though we see that his test scores are very high. We see that he has the potential to do well.
I begin to play with one of the many braids in my hair. What does this have to do with me?
"Angelica."
I look up.
"Yes, Principal Allen?"
"You have the highest grades in the school. All we ask is that you tutor Joseph. Help him with his homework, teach him to be a good student. Help him to succeed."
"Who says I wanna succeed?" Joseph asks coldly.
Principal Allen smiles and holds up a paper.
"In the beginning of the school year, you took a survey. It asked what you wanted to do after high school. You wrote, 'I want to be an engineer. I want to make good grades and be a good student so that my mamma can be proud of me for once.'"
I look at Joseph. He looks back at me with piercing green eyes.
I can see that he wants this. That what he wrote was one hundred percent true.
"I'll do it," I say.
Whatever it takes, I will help him become who he wants to be.
J.J.
Damn.
She saw it. She saw my guard down.
Now she's gonna want to make me a better person. Now I have to let her in. Let her see who I really am.
The last one didn't like what she saw.
"So, when should we meet up?" she asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Um, I don't know. I guess for an hour after school?"
She's beautiful. A head full of braids, full lips, eyes shaped like an Egyptian princess (though she's not Egyptian). She's curvy and she's wearing a tank top that shows just enough cleavage to keep me thinking. Her sweat pants hang low enough for me to see the two bow tattoos on her hips and on her wrists I can see some tattoos of words, though I can't see what words they are.
Man, I think I like her...but she won't like me.
"Do you wanna exchange numbers?"
It sounds like she's repeated it. She's blushing, so she probably has. Oops.
I give her my number and she gives me hers.
She's walking away now and I can't help but admire her perfectly round ass.
Damn.
What the hell am I gonna do now?
I can't be with her. If I even try, I'll hurt her. I'll do something I'll regret.
Damn.
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