Teach Me

Belmont High School

Authors letter to readers

Okay hi I'm Unique Taste and because I have multipul stories its hard to update them all at once, so I would like to propose the idea of you the readers commenting ~Update please~ on the story you want to see updated the most. Overall the book with the most request will be updated in the next three days. I would say you have about a week to get your book to the top by asking friends to comment you can comment multipul times and then I will present the winners with the new chapter of their favorite book. Oh yes put your comments in the last chapter of the book, so the counting is not all over the place.

I'm sitting at my desk, staring at the man that I honestly believe will be the father of my children. I keep telling myself, even if he doesn't like me, I just have to let him know, or just throw myself at him, I'm sure he'll catch me.

Nicolas Writeman the six foot Adonis with blonde hair, brown eyes, and the wickedest body I've ever seen in my life. He plays for the school soccer team the Stallions, so he's ... known.

I sat there digging myself deeper and deeper into a pit of daydreams, when suddenly, Gabbrick one of my advisors catches me. He intercepts my line of vision and starts trying to find out who I was looking at. God damn it! I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and put my head on my desk shielding myself from his judgmental eyes.

The lesson continues, but I'm far too distracted to care. Don't get me wrong I love my education just like everybody else, but I just love telling stories and having dreams a little more. I'm about 5 feet 9 inches tall and I'm no supermodel, so life for me has always been rather modest. The bell rang, I packed my things and bailed for the door. I get into the halls and hear someone call my name. I can't lie my heart skipped a beat. Only to find out it was Gabbrick.

I pretended not to see him, I bobbed my head left and right with a confused look on my face then rushed off in the opposite direction. I mean Gabbrick is nice and all, but he's not my main advisor, I'm not the most social person in the world, so I'm not obligated to talk to him.

At Belmont high school we lack diversity. Social groups are composed of the athletes, musicians, and the unskilled, aka the smart people. I play the piano, but I'm very mediocre. Rarely do I ever get picked for concerts or solos, but whatever Music is not life. I'm Caribbean and most of my family members live in Barbados, so it's hard being a minority not only at school, but in town.

I'm hugged from behind, but I know

It's Rebecca, my beloved best friend, who's an athlete. If Dance is considered a sport. Just kidding, I think she does some kind of watered down gymnastics.

"Aaliyah! ... It's like week two of school, what are you wearing?"

"It's called clothes, would you like some?" I replied.

"Haha that's cute, I'm just trying to help." She whispered playfully.

"I don't need help." I recanted.

"Fine! Stay ugly then." She shouted down the quiet hall. We threw hands, but none of us can fight, so we stopped before anyone saw us.

"You are so disrespectful."

Ghasp! It gets quiet and we bump each other a few times until I bump her right into a locker with all my force.

AHHH!

"Aaliyah Chill!" She screamed with a smirk, trying to expose me to the world.

"Okay okay let's act civilized." I said, wrapping my arms around hers and we walked giggling down the hall.

"It's our senior year and I demand that this be the year that we get dates."

"Dates?" I inquired.