Concentration levels are at a minimum today.
“—Ms. Blackwell?”
Blinking, I glanced up to find Mr. Kates staring down at me, lips pursed. He’d asked a question. I could tell by the rise in his voice at the end that he’d definitely asked me a question. I just . . . missed the entire thing. “Can you repeat that?” I wondered, glancing about the room nervously, shuffling my feet under my desk. Someone giggled from somewhere behind me.
“Weren’t you paying attention?” he asked, tone condescending. Sharp.
No. Obviously. I bit my lip, staring up at him nervously. “Um. I’m sorry.”
Mr. Kates is a middle aged teacher, handsome for an older gentleman or at least that’s what Charlotte says with this rugged but sophisticated look to him. He’s always composed. Usually
