It was 7:52 in the morning, and the eighth-grade hall was already buzzing like somebody had kicked a beehive. Lockers slamming, kids yelling about somebody's new shoes, and the faint smell of cafeteria breakfast drifting through the air.
Y/n was in her classroom, trying to get her bearings before the bell rang. Her room was warm and colorful—posters with reading strategies, a word wall, some fairy lights she'd put up over the weekend. She was new. Three weeks in, and she still felt like she was learning a new language every day.
That's when the door swung open, and in walked a boy with a backpack hanging off one shoulder and a grin like he already knew he was about to say something wild.
CM
Cameron Mitchell
Ms. Y/n, you not gon' believe what just happened in the cafeteria.
JR
Jordan Robinson
right behind him, already laughing Tell her, Cam.
CM
Cameron Mitchell
So I'm in line, right? Getting my breakfast, minding my business. And this boy Tyree just walked up to Brielle and tried to give her a note. In front of everybody.
JR
Jordan Robinson
wheezing And Brielle looked at him like he smelled like lunchroom pizza.
CM
Cameron Mitchell
She said, "I don't accept notes from boys who still use notebook paper with the spirals on it." Then she just walked off.
JR
Jordan Robinson
He was just standing there holding the note like it was a eviction notice.
They both cracked up, and Cameron dropped his bag on a desk like he owned the place.
CM
Cameron Mitchell
So anyway, what we doing today? You got something fun, or is it another one of them "silent reading" days?
