Chapter 124
Just as the murmurs and side conversations began to fade, the classroom door swung open and Ms. Ackerman stepped in, carrying a clipboard and her usual warm smile.
"Good morning, everyone," she said as she walked to the front. "I hope you all had a restful sumr. Now, let's get started. As you can see, we have a few new students joining us this sester."
The class straightened up slightly.
She glanced at her clipboard. "Pippa Fitz-Amobi, Cara Ward, Lauren Gibson, and Ravi Singh—you'll be assigned new seats. We've made a few changes to the arrangent to accommodate everyone."
There were a few groans and sighs as students realized their usual spots might be disrupted.
Ms. Ackerman began calling nas from her clipboard.
"Harper and Puckett, you'll be in the last row. Shay and Benson, up front in the first row. Fitz-Amobi, you'll take the seat next to Harper. Ward, next to Shay. Gibson, third row by the window. Singh, near the window seat."
Sam and I bumped fists.
"We got last row," Sam said, grinning. Then she looked at Pippa. "What did you do wrong, pretty girl, to get stuck in the last row? I thought you'd be more like the nerdy type," she added, glancing toward Freddie and Carly.
Pippa looked surprised. "I did nothing wrong," she whispered, looking at Sam.
"Oh, don't be shy," I said, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder and giving Pippa a grin. "Co to the dark side."
Sam reached into her backpack and added with a smirk, "We have cookies."
She passed one to and then one to Pippa. Pippa hesitated at first, but I nudged her with a smile. "Eat it, it's delicious. And believe , Sam doesn't usually share her snacks."
Pippa ended up taking a bite, seeing how casually Sam and I ate ours without a hint of concern.
"Ms. Fitz-Amobi," said the teacher with a neutral tone. "We don't eat in class. Please don't join the two troublemakers."
Pippa coughed and said a little embarrassed, "I'm sorry."
I finished chewing and swallowed. "My God, Sam, you made so much trouble that now you're counting as two."
"She was talking about you too, you idiot," said Sam, making everyone laugh again.
---
Few days after, I was having afternoon coffee with Uncle Charlie in the kitchen. The sll of fresh coffee and toasted bread filled the air.
Alan walked into the kitchen, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "Hey, how do I look?"
"Hmm, Dad, just because it's expensive doesn't an it's stylish..." I said
"Forget it, Jake. That preppy style of his isn't going anywhere," said Charlie.
Alan glared at the two of us. "I'm really nervous here," he said. "I have a date tonight."
"You look fine, Dad. That's your best version," I said reassuringly.
"Which isn't saying much, considering the other versions," Charlie murmured.
Alan glared again at Charlie, not amused.
"You're fine," Charlie said, lifting his coffee mug. "Look, just don't turn this into a bigger deal than it needs to be. You t a woman, you asked her out—"
"Technically, she asked out," Alan interjected.
"See, I was in the market," Alan continued. "And she needed advice on picking out corn. There were no employees around. There never are. Even if they are, they're not knowledgeable about produce."
"Thank God you were there," Charlie said dryly.
"Tell about it," Alan nodded.
"I explained that you have to husk a few ears... to check the firmness of the kernels. Next thing you know, she asked out."
Charlie and I exchanged a look.
"Dad, there are probably four kinds of won that would ask you out after that interaction," I said, raising my fingers to count. "She has the urge, she's a gold digger, she wants a green card, or she's crazy."
"Listen to your son, Alan," Charlie added. "Just hope it's the first one. Because if it's one of the other three, we'll have to kick her ass... and yours too."
"And Dad, boost your self-esteem," I added. "You're rich now. You have a nice house, nice cars, and your son is almost pooping money. Just don't screw it up with so random woman you t at the supermarket.
If you want to do sothing stupid—like marriage—with a supermarket woman, at least find one with the last na Walton." (owner of Walmart)
Alan took a deep breath. "Okay, you're right." he said, then murmured, " I'm a good catch now... a great catch." and he seed to calm down a bit. "I can do it," he said quietly, then turned to look at and Charlie. "Thank you." And with that, he walked out.
I turned slowly. "Does it work?" I asked, thoughtfully.
Charlie rubbed his chin. "I don't know. But miracles can happen."
---
Alan had two intense days of 'activity' with the woman.
Now, the three of us—Alan, Charlie, and I—were sitting at the kitchen table again. Alan looked simultaneously smug, exhausted, and conflicted, sipping from a tall glass of orange juice as if it were a recovery potion.
He murmured, "I can't believe she was married."
Charlie glared at Alan, then gave him a few pats on the back. "At least it was the first option."
"Well, Dad, it seems we don't need to kick your ass..." I said.
Charlie murmured, "We didn't even need to. She did that a lot..."
Alan and I looked at Charlie.
"Thanks God I had that soundproofing installed in my room," I said. "I expected it to be useful for so of Uncle Charlie's louder guests... who would've thought I'd use it because of Dad."
Now both of them turned to glare at .
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