So glad this is being well-received! Please note that I have started this FF off a little slowly, but I promise it will progress soon. Until then, enjoy the back-forth-banter!

Thank you to those of you who take the time to review. It really means a lot to me! Also, a big thanks to the favoriters as well!

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I sat with Jimmy and some new foreign exchange student at lunch the next day. She was kinda pretty and her and Jimmy seemed to pretty much hit it off immediately after she asked if she could sit with us. Her name was Klara and she had come from Germany to learn more about American culture.

I wished I could talk to girls as easily as Jimmy could, or anyone else for that matter. I had never been good at, and because I already had it in my mind that I was destined to fail I never even tried. Besides, no girl around here would want to deal with my bullshit. There's too fuckin' much of it.

The three of us chatted until the bell rang. I said "goodbye" to the two of them and made my way to room 101. This time I wasn't late.

I settled into my desk and pulled out my history book to the instructed page, but not before I took a moment to notice her in a peach-colored sundress. It hugged at her hips ever so slightly and made it hard to pay attention a single world she had said so far.

"Okay, so today we'll be starting on the last lesson of the school year." Ms. Roberts began jotting something down on the dry erase board in front of her.

My classmates gave a very small cheer, excited at the idea of the school year being nearly over.

I stayed quiet and continued a light sketch of a snake wrapped around a skull to pass the time, every so often looking up at the board to half-ass pay attention.

I heard a thump and a clatter and looked up to find Ms. Robert's bending over to pick up a fallen marker. I could make out visible panty lines, and for a split second I let my mind wander before I took a quick mental picture and focused back on my notebook before she caught me staring.

.::.

"Ok, I want all of you to read pages 312-318 and complete your worksheets. I'll be grading them tomorrow during the video, so make sure you bring them in or that's a big, fat 0 on your record." She was leaning casually against her desk speaking to the kids that were hurriedly stuffing their belongings into their backpacks, me being one of them.

I walked past her and nearly made it out the door. "Dixon." She placed a small hand on my bicep and I immediately flinched out of surprise. Nobody touched me. Ever.

I refrained from letting out an aggravated sigh as I dropped my backpack to the ground and waited for the class-room to empty itself out. Didn't take very long.

I took a seat at one of the front desks closer to her own and tapped my foot as she wiped the erase board clean. C'mon, lady. Ain't got all day.

Finally, she turned to look at me. She patted her hands and smoothed her dress before crossing her arms and leaning against her desk. "You didn't show up yesterday, Mr. Dixon."

I rubbed my forehead, careful not to brush my bangs to the side and reveal the nasty bruise I was sporting on my left eye. "I was sick."

"We talked about this. I told you if you missed one more day you would end up failing the class."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to yourself. You know you kept a B average up until the third semester? What happened that brought that down to a D?"

Why do you even give a shit anyway? There's a kid dumber than me in this class and I don't ever see you makin' his ass stay late. I sighed, slightly annoyed. Why can't you people just stay off my fuckin' case? Can't never do nothin' right for no-fuckin'-body. I didn't pay attention to the next few sentences that came out of her mouth. I ignored them, simply 'cause I didn't want to hear this rich bitch's shit. She ain't got no fuckin' idea what I go through. I felt myself growing substantially more irritated.

"Jesus Christ, lady." I furrowed my brow. "Why don't you just let me fuckin' fail and be done with it? It's one less paper for you to grade anyway." I shook my head and began to chew my thumbnail out of frustration.

"Because I want to help you."

"Ok, well what if I don't want yer fuckin' help?" I found myself surprised by the fact that she hadn't sent me to detention for my language. I didn't even think to censor myself. I've had too rough of a week to think about shit else at this point.

"You know...I don't think you've come to class a single week without having a bruise on your face at least once..." I could hear by the light shakiness of her voice that she was hesitant to speak her mind.

I didn't say anything. Just looked down at my desk, the floor, the fuckin' ceiling-just anywhere other than my nosy ass teacher.

"You're not going to talk about it, are you?"

"What you want me to do? Spill my life's story to my history teacher?"

"You don't have to tell me your life story. Just tell me what I can do to help."

"Look, I don't need nobody's help. S'pecially not yours." I stood to my feet defensively and made my way to the door, picking my book bag up from the ground and slinging it over my shoulder.

"Do you sell?"

"What?" My eyes gleamed with confusion as I turned back to look at her.

"Pot. Do you sell pot?" She stared at me inquisitively.

The fuck? "Why you askin'? You sideline as a cop or somethin'?"

She snorted. "I smell it on you every time you come to class. You either smoke a lot at home or keep some of it on you during the day."

"What..." I wasn't exactly sure what to think at the moment and I scratched my head in bewilderment. The corners of her pink lips fought back a half-smile. She was clearly amused by the look of confusion spreading on my face.

"Well? Do you?" She asked after a moment of silence.

"No, lady. Jeez. The hell kind of question-"

"I want to buy some off you."

What? Did I hear that right?

"You're fuckin' with me."

"I'm not. I've wanted to ask you all week."

"Why me?" I hesitated to ask. Still unsure of whether or not I could trust this kinda conversation with my history teacher.

"Look, I've had a bad week." She breathed, pulling a clip from her hair. I watched as it fell loosely down her back. She fingered it thoroughly until she got it just the way she liked it. It was long and shiny and soft-lookin'. For a brief minute I thought about runnin' my fingers through it. I even wondered what it smelled like.

I shook my head mentally as she finished her sentence. "I have...somewhat of a proposition for you."

"A what?"

"A proposition-I want to make a deal with you."

"Which is?"

"You sell to me just this once and I erase that 11th absence out of my book. That will still give you a chance to pass this class."

"What makes you think I really give a damn if I pass this class or not?"

"You're here, aren't you? You knew that last absence would fail you but you still decided to come back."

I didn't exactly know how to reply to that. "Beats sittin' at home with nothin' to do, I guess." Which also translated into: I don't feel like being around my crazy, drunk ass dad.

"Ok, so it's a win-win. You have my back, I have yours."

"You are the weirdest teacher I've ever met." But goddamn you're fuckin' hot.

"So, what do you say?" Her hazel eyes twinkled.

I shook my head and licked the dryness of my bottom lip before exhaling. "How much you want?"

"I dunno. Maybe twenty...thirty dollars worth?"

"You swear you ain't fuckin' with me? I already got enough problems."

She held up a pinky finger and I was immediately drawn to the neatness of her red, manicured nails. "I swear."

"Alright." I scratched the back of my head. "Meet me at Dale Creek Park underneath the gazebo at 7."