Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
My eyes rolled backwards as I looked up at the quickly darkening sky.
“This is going to come back and bite us in the ass,” I told her. “Just you wait and see.”
She smiled.
“You gonna trash that or keep it?” she asked.
I looked at the thing I was still holding, then roughly shoved it into my purse without another word.
Why, I had no idea.
Chapter 5
Please be patient, I’m fucking things up as fast as I can.
-Tally to Tommy
Tally
I stared at my paper worriedly.
I couldn’t remember anything.
Not a damn thing.
Everything that was on that page was foreign to me.
Not just one thing, but everything.
“You have an hour to finish before I collect the tests. Finished or not. Understand?” Dr. Tommy walked to the board and wrote 10:33 on the white dry erase board. “If you have any questions during the test, raise your hand and I’ll come to you. Number two pencils only, because I’d hate for the testing machine to not read your answers and mark them wrong.”
I swallowed thickly, checking to make sure my pencil was number two, even though that’s all I ever bought.
I fiddled with my watch, setting my time to the time on the board, and then I started to panic.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t. I would fail, and then I would have to work at the gas station for the rest of my life, possibly never seeing Tallulah again because I’d be busy working to make enough money to support us. She’d be fifteen when I finally caught up…
A Jolly Rancher was set down on the desk in front of me, and I lifted my eyes from my test to look at who put it there, only to stop when I saw a crotch.
A very nice crotch at that.
I could see mostly everything, and everything was quite perfect.
Though, I had a feeling that had a lot to do with the man that crotch belonged to.
Even soft the man was well proportioned. I wondered what it would look like if…
Dr. Tommy’s muscled, tattooed arm came into view to block his crotch, and I blushed ruby red.
I made my way from his crotch to his face, stalling slightly on his belly and well defined arms before I reached my destination.
My face was still flaming, which seemed to be a constant state with him.
I licked my lips.
His brows rose, but he didn’t say a word.
He glanced down at my paper, which was still blank, then back to me as if to say ‘what the fuck is going on with you?’
I shrugged, causing his lips to tip up in a smile.
He opened the Jolly Rancher and handed it to me, and I took it.
Should I put it in my mouth?
I was on a diet. I’d not had anything sweet in well over two weeks.
I should. I definitely should.
Popping it into my mouth, I lifted my own brows, causing his eyes to smile.
Without another word, he turned and walked back toward his desk where he took a seat, propped his feet up onto the corner and closed his eyes.
I watched him for a few long seconds before I went back to my test…this time not nearly as freaked out as I’d been a few minutes ago.
***
“You passed.”
My body jolted.
I was sleeping on the couch in a back room of the school that acted as a students’ lounge. It was placed there by some awesome members of the administration who understood the needs of nursing students.
I always took a quick nap on Tuesdays and Thursdays before I had to go to work at the gas station. I had exactly an hour and fifteen minutes between eleven and twelve fifteen to get some rest before I had to be to work by twelve thirty.
Today, since I’d finished my test before class normally ended, I had a few minutes longer.
“I did?” I asked, rubbing my eyes in confusion.
I felt the couch depress at my side, and I turned to look at Dr. Tommy.
He was holding my test.
Well, he was holding all of the tests, but mine just happened to be the top one.
“Have you told any of your other teachers that you have test anxiety?” he asked.
I looked at him.
“What would they do about it?” I asked him sardonically. “Nothing.”
He snorted.
“Actually, they’re required by law to give you another testing environment and more time if it’s found to actually be a real problem for you. They’re also allowed to alter the way the test is administered, giving it to you orally or in essay format if the standardized test causes you anxiety,” he enlightened me.
I blinked, then blinked some more.
“You’re shitting me,” I finally settled on, then immediately cursed myself for cussing in front of my teacher.
The only thing my words got me was laughter, thankfully.
“No, I’m not shitting you,” he promised. “Come to my office with me, and then go to lunch with me. I want to go over a few things with you.”