Every day became easier to handle. Sure, I might still be lonely in class and morning break, but at lunch I could always count on Mr. Jones to be waiting for me at the rooftop. He was there in case I needed to vent about my treatment at home or at school but, most importantly, he was there to distract me.
One day when I arrived before him, I picked up the book we just checked out for English class. A while later, Mr. Jones walked over and sat down next to me. I was lying down on the bench, so he lifted my legs and placed them on his lap. Surprised at this act of affection that was unknown to me, I peeked over the book, blushing as I noticed the grin on his lips, only to hide behind the pages once more.
Mr. Jones sighed deeply and forcibly as to signal his boredom. He then stol
