Old Men Are Gross

173 8 9
                                    

Okay, so, I'm sure most of you thought this book would only be about Jeffery and Dallas and Cody. When the fact of the matter is, Jeffery isn't the only pervert I've had to deal with. Ever day—and twice on Friday—I had to deal with my history/homeroom teacher, Mr. Sheaffer. He's 51, divorced, two daughters, and his ex wife is red headed. He loves sailboat racing and Hawaiian shirts. You could just tell he looked like a pedophile. I remember early on in the year, I was having a terrible day.

I'd asked Sheaffer what time it was and he said, “It's day time.”

“What?” I asked, not wanting to hear jokes.

“It's day time. It'll be night in a few hours,” he smiled.

I gave him that look that showed I was in no mood.

“I'm sorry, I'm being rude. It's one-thirty.”

I just nodded.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Just tired,” I said.

“I thought gingers didn't get tired,” he chuckled.

I didn't understand the joke, but I brushed it off. When I got home that day and told my mom that story, she said, “Bella, that means you're good in bed.”

My jaw dropped. “Wow.”

“I think he likes you,” she said.

And ever since that day, he's been nothing but flirty. There's a whole list of incidents I could mention, but then you wouldn't hear about the most recent one. Which brings me to just this past Friday. (Currently Sunday night). But Friday, I was doing my work and looked up. Sheaffer was standing right in front of me, a smile planted on his face. This wasn't the first time he's smiled at me for no reason. He recently started this.

“Sheaffer, why do you do that?” I asked.

“What?” he shrugged.

“You've been smiling at me for no apparent reason,” I said.

“I smile when I see you—is that a bad thing?” he asked.

I sighed. “It just throws me off.”

“It's not a creepy smile, is it?” he asked.

Uh, YEAH!

“No,” I waved my hand. “Go back to your computer and do whatever it is you do,” I chuckled my way through the awkwardness. He just shook his head at me, smiling, and went back to his desk.

I put my head in my hand, not understanding what it was about me that attracted him. OR that attracted older guys for that matter. Sheaffer was the perv I was going to end up slapping. But the thing was, everyone who had or currently has Sheaffer for a teacher, loves him. So if I were to report him, he'd have an army full of students and some teachers to back him up in saying, “Sheaffer isn't a perv. He's done nothing wrong. She just wants attention.”

I'd have a small army of friends to back me up. My best friend Alyssa and my other friend Donovan, who I talked to during Sheaffer's class. And our English class. But anyway, I just wanted him to leave me alone. And if you think about it, do you really think the principal would believe me or Sheaffer? I'm just a sixteen-year-old girl, and Sheaffer is an educated old man who has been working at this school for a while. You do the math.

When I got home, I was relieved. I told my mom about the recent incident and she rolled her eyes. “I'm gonna have to put him in his place.”

I didn't respond.

My family decided to go to WalMart and get groceries. I had some family dysfunction. My older brother moved out about a month ago, so he doesn't exactly live anywhere. He sleeps in a bed every night, just at different houses. He was currently on the phone with my mom. He must've wanted to talk to my younger brother, Gavyn, because my mom handed him the phone.

After a while, Gavyn handed the phone to me.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Hey, Bells, wanna go to movies or Main Event?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “I don't care. Main Event is fun.”

“Okay, when y'all get home from WalMart, I'm gonna take you and Gavyn.”

“Okay,” I said, giving the phone back to my mom.

After she hung up, she sighed. “That boy is blowing his money, knowing he's gonna need it.”

I just shrugged, knowing she was talking to mostly herself. Bubba wasn't exactly the best brother in the world. The only reason he was taking Gavyn and I out, was to throw something in our faces whenever we got mad at him for something. He'd come back with, “Don't ask me to take y'all anywhere.” Like we gave two shits. He threw this stuff at us all the time and it pissed me off.

When we unloaded the groceries at home, Gavyn and I hopped into Bubba's car and drove to Main Event. I still wasn't a hundred percent sure why I was going, but it was nice to get out of the house. We made it to Main Event and the three of us got our cards that had twenty dollars each. I went off to play my own games. It wasn't long before my brothers were using my card to try and win tickets.

I was used to it, so it had no effect on me. After a bunch of games we had to swipe cards for, we bowled, and then went to lazer tag. I'd played one other time. It was fun. As we stood in the dark lazer tag room, a man in his mid thirties gave me the up-down look with his eyes, practically undressing me mentally. I shook my head at him, and gestured for him to turn around.

Just once I'd love to go somewhere without some old man checking me out or hitting on me. That'd be great. And honestly, I'm not that pretty. Most of my pictures are edited on Instagram, and those rarely come out good. People said I was pretty, but I was sure they were only saying that to be nice. I was so tired of all these pervs checking me out. But oh well. It's not in my control. I guess we'll see how it goes?

**************

Okay, so I updated! As I write this book, I realize there's nothing really fictional about this book except for the names. And some names are the same sa real life. So, yeah. I hope y'all are reading this and enjoying it, and if you have any tips for me on how to handle this, I'd love to hear em! So comment, don't hate, and... yeah! Love y'all!

WritingMelody<3

Slap That PervWhere stories live. Discover now