Bad day, I guess
Jason Davenport
“Dear Amelia. An apology letter written on behalf of my offenses. Please accept my sincere apologies for the scandal created in your name, solely caused by me. I accept complete responsibility for my actions and shortcomings and the inconveniences it has caused you by far. I am truly sorry for them and completely understand your disappointment in me.
“I cannot defend my actions, and if I could reverse them, I would, but I can not. However, I can personally assure you that no such mistake would be made in my name again. Once again, please accept my sincerest apologies. Sincerely, Jason Davenport.”
At the last word, I heaved a “remorseful” sigh and looked up with hope in my eyes, folding the letter in my hands. The crowd of students was in a mild disarray from the letter I’d just read, clearly the ones doing the forgiving for Amelia, who on the other hand, sat at a corner of the bleachers, somewhat isolated from the others, her head hung low and her hands folded on her lap.
My words from Tuesday still had an effect on her. Seeing that alone brought a queer satisfaction to me. At least now I was assured that next time, she wouldn’t go messing around.
The moment I made to look away from her, she raised her head, slowly, and her gaze fell on me. There were tears in her eyes, a few having gone down her cheeks already.
“You did an excellent job on the letter,” I mouthed with a smile before looking away from her and descending the podium.
I walked over to Coach Hens sitting at a corner with principal Jenkins and handed him the letter. Then I handed its duplicate to principal Jenkins.
“I hope what you did never repeats itself again,” Coach Hens said sternly as he took the letter from me.
“If it does, you will lose your football scholarship, so be very careful Jason,” principal Jenkins added.
“I understand,” I nodded somberly.
I didn’t need a scholarship. My dad could pay for it. But I had one already anyway and losing it was the least thing on my mind, especially if I was losing it because of Amelia.
Speaking of which, I was really impressed by the apology letter she’d given to me after school yesterday. So heartfelt. Touchy. Just the right amount of pity-inducing words. Apparently, she’d done her homework well. Yeah, there were a few places she needed to adjust, but in general, the letter was great.
I looked over at her once more. Her friend, I guess, the one that’d also stood up to me in the field, was beside her, his arm around her while she wiped her face.
Rolling my eyes, I looked away. She was such a crybaby. Crybabies pissed me off real bad. But then again, what else could she do but cry. After all, that was the only thing weaklings were good at.
°°°°
“Today feels like a great day, don’t you think so, people?” Mrs Sandra, our Biology teacher remarked, her brown eyes roving around the class, with a smile on her lips. “I mean, Friday always feels like a great day, doesn’t it?”
The reply from the members of the class didn’t exactly reflect her odd enthusiasm. Matter of fact, everyone seemed bored, some slouched over their desks, others reclining into the chairs, arms crossed. I fell into the latter category while Amelia, who I had Biology with every Friday, fell into none.
She sat at the front, just beside the window, which I found a great distraction seeing as almost every minute she was looking out through it, like she was doing now. But then, what did I care? As long as she aced her grades and mine, she might as well learn from the outside of the classroom for all I cared.
“Well, if it doesn’t feel like one to you, it does so to me,” Mrs Sandra smiled. “Which is why, today, I’ll be pairing each and everyone of you with someone for the upcoming Biology project, which, of course, you’ll be told about at the end of the class.”
At this particular statement, the class let out a loud groan of disagreement.
“But we’ve already had like two projects now,” someone from the class said.
“Which is why you’re seniors, Aliyah. More projects will keep rolling in in order to prepare you for the bigger picture ahead. College. So quit whining and prep yourselves to receive your partners.”
I cast a glance toward Amelia, just to see her reaction. She seemed unfazed. Inattentive even, still staring out the window. If that girl fails one darned test because of her lack of attention, I swear she’s gonna leave that seat.
Just so I don’t get upset, I looked away from her.
“Now, here’s how we’ll do this pairing,” Mrs Sandra continued, walking back to her table. She picked up a sheet before turning back to the class and leaning against her desk.
“I call your name and you come up here and pick out a female name from the, well, ballot papers on the table, as you can see. This sheet I’m holding now bears only male names, as I’m trying to make this a mixed pairing. Luckily, you all happen to have partners of the opposite gender. No one is left out, so do not fret.”
Still, the class fretted. No one was interested in doing any project-me most of all-, or in being put in any such pairs.
“Mind you, no amount of wailing can reverse your being paired,” Mrs Sandra waved and then looked back at the sheet in her hands. “Here we go. The first one of you is, in no special order, Aaron Mcdonald.”
A ginger haired guy at the middle row stood up and trudged over to Mrs Sandra’s desk.
“Pick a paper.” Mrs Sandra told him.
He picked up a folded paper amongst the rest and turned to the class.
Unfolding it, he looked up from his hand and said, “Yvonne Mayweather.”
The class let out a whoop and a cheer, as if the two of them were becoming a couple or something.
“Great!” Mrs Sandra smiled, writing down Yvonne’s name beside his.
“Next, Grant Edwards,” she called.
Grant was dark haired and a member of the lacrosse team. That much I knew about him. He stood up from his seat in the second row and walked over to the front of the class.
Picking up a paper, he unfolded it, hesitated for a moment before looking up. “Uh, Tracy Anton?”
I almost laughed at his expression. He clearly didn’t know who he was being paired with. Tracy might as well be a ghost for all he knew.
“That’s me!” A girl with dark hair like his raised her hand at the back of the class.
“Oh,” he said, then raised his hand in a thumbs up, dropping the paper back onto the desk.
“Going forward,” Mrs Sandra continued. “Jason Davenport.”
I blinked, having been taken by surprise. Too soon?
Slowly, I stood up and walked to the front of the class.
“Pick a paper.” Mrs Sandra smiled at me.
Looking away from her, I scanned the group of folded papers for a second then reached forward and picked up one from the middle.
I turned back to the class and began unfolding it until I’d completely done so.
At the name on the paper, a smile stretched across my lips. Well, what did we have here?
“Well?” Mrs Sandra asked.
I looked up from the letter then, my eyes on the class.
With a smile, a rather satisfied one, I said, “Amelia Forbes.”
The class erupted in an outburst of cheers, whoops and occasional ‘aw’s’.
Only when I called her name did Amelia look away from the window, her eyes wide, mouth hung open.
Ah, the desired reaction.
Turning back, I dropped the paper on Mrs Sandra’s desk and walked back to my seat. Then I looked at Amelia. She was still staring at the now empty space in which I once stood, apparently still in shock.
I chuckled. I guess we were just meant to be together. There was no avoiding me, and vice versa. Either way, I was glad. Now I didn’t have to do anything at all. All that was left to do was wait for the project and then watch Amelia do all the work.
Perfect.
°°°°
“Don’t you find it such a coincidence that you got paired with Amelia today for the Biology project?” Noah, who I also had Biology with, commented, picking out a fry from Kelly’s full tray beside his.
“Wait, what?” Kimberly, who happened to be eating with us today, started from Noah to me and back to Noah. “You got paired with Amelia?”
“Yep,” I muttered, taking up my apple and leaning back into my seat before having a bite.
“I mean it’s weird,” I shrugged, swallowing the bite in my mouth. “There was no cheating, all the papers were neatly folded. And Mrs Sandra hadn’t assigned partners. We had to choose our partners, and I picked up a paper from the rest and it turned out to be her.”
“Bummer,” Kimberly said.
“Nah, not really. At least I don’t get to do any of the work.”
“Speak of the devil,” Frank, another one of my friends muttered, looking straight ahead. “Isn’t that Amelia? Coming up to us?”
I looked up from the apple in my hand, my gaze following Frank’s line of sight to fall on Amelia walking up to us, like he said, her head up but eyes red rimmed.
Had she been crying? I scoffed. So what if she’d been? It wasn’t like I gave a damn.
Finally, she got to our table, lowering her eyes on approaching us.
“Well, look who’s here,” Kimberly piped up. “Just in time. Care to join us in our conversation, Amelia?”
Ignoring Kimberly’s comment, she looked up then, gŕey eyes falling on me.
“Can you come with me?” She asked in a low voice.
I cocked an eyebrow. “What for?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Frank chuckled. “Another makeout sesh.”
“Please, Jason. Come with me. Mrs Sandra wants to see you,” Amelia said.
“And what if I decline?” I crossed my arms.
“She said to bring you now.”
“Just go, man,” Noah nudged me. “It’s a teacher.”
Sighing, I dropped my apple on the table and stood up.
I was going to go anyway. I was just pulling Amelia’s legs.
Turning away from the table, she began walking away, her steps somewhere in the middle of quick and slow.
“Walk faster or get out of my way,” I told her. “Quit acting like your grandma died or something.”
At my words, her steps quickened until we walked out of the cafeteria. It might be good to mention here the awkward stares we’d received as we walked past the rows of tables cramped with hungry students.
The moment we stepped out of the cafeteria, Amelia stopped abruptly, so I almost bumped into her, and turned to face me.
“I have a favor to ask,” she said, staring up at me.
My eyebrows shot up. “You have to be kidding me,” I scoffed.
“Please, Jason.” She reached out and placed her hand on my right bicep.
At that, my eyebrows bunched together, eyes lowering to her hand on my arm.
“Please,” she repeated.
“Can you not touch me?” I stared at her.
As if realizing what she’d just done, she took her hand off my arm at once as though my arm was burning coal.
“I’m sorry.” She looked away from me.
Crossing my arms, I fixed my gaze on her. “What do you want?”
She looked back at me then. “When Mrs Sandra asks if you want to be my partner, please say no.”This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.
“What?” I raised my eyebrows, a smile spreading across. “Is that what this is about? You complained about me being your partner.”
“I had to,” she said. “Just, please, do what I asked. Please.”
“Not like I want to be your partner either,” I said. “Whatever.”
“For real?” She stared at me, a new light in her eyes.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I muttered, turning away from her just in time to hide the smirk that spread across my lips.
No way in hell was I agreeing to that. Amelia would be stupid to think I’d agree to that.
Eventually, we got to Mrs Sandra’s class and met her sitting at her table, her reading glasses on.
“Ah, Jason,” she beamed, taking off her glasses.
“Mrs Sandra,” I nodded.
“Amelia brought a complaint to me that she doesn’t want to be partners with you. That, matter of fact, you both don’t want to be partners. Is that the same way you feel, Jason?”
I frowned. “No. No, Mrs Sandra. Actually I really like Amelia as a partner and want to be partners with her.”
Amelia gasped. “Jason, no, stop it, please.”
“Are you sure, Jason?” Mrs Sandra stared at me. “Because that’s not the way Amelia made it seem.”
“A hundred percent, Mrs Sandra.” I told her.
Mrs Sandra then looked at Amelia, who had a broken, hurtful expression on her face.
“Then why did you tell me all that, Amelia?”
Without a word, Amelia turned away from Mrs Sandra and fled from the classroom, hitting my shoulder as she went.
Mrs Sandra’s eyebrows furrowed. “What in the world is wrong with her?”
“I dunno,” I shrugged with a smile. “Bad day, I guess.”