I read over the directions for the Spanish essay once more.
Write a three page paper, in Spanish, on your overall high school experience. “Sophie?” said Caeden. I studiously ignored him. Talk about classes you enjoyed/didn’t enjoy, teachers, friends, extra-curricular activities, and anything else school related. “Soph?” poke. Also talk about your plans after high school. Work? College? Dreams? Goals? Ambitions? “Sophie,” he said again and pushed me hard enough to knock me out of my seat and onto the floor. Dang shifter reflexes. Weren’t they supposed to keep this kind of thing from happening?
“Caeden!” I hissed under my breath.
“Oopsy daisy,” he blushed.
I picked myself up and brushed dust off of Caeden’s shirt and my shorts. Ugh, gross. That dust had probably been on the floor for twenty years.
Straightening my disheveled appearance I said to Caeden, “What was so flippin’ important that you had to push me out of my chair? I was trying to work on an essay.”
“Flippin’?” he quirked a brow.
“Yes, flippin’,” I said and slid back into my seat. “Now what was it?” I asked, picking up my pencil. I tapped the eraser against the desk.
He pointed to the power point and I rolled my gaze towards to it. “Chess club? Why should I be concerned about chess club?”