To meet You Again Read Free Page B

took in a deep breath. I knew he wasn’t going to like this.
    Don Vernal
                   
I reluctantly passed the paper back to him. He unfolded it and paused. I heard
a light slam on his desk as he turned sharply to face me.
                    “Vernal?” he whisper-shouted. “Why?” I opened my mouth
to say something but he whisper-shouted some more, “And how did that even
happen? I thought you two don’t even talk? Don’t tell me you actually feel
sorry for the guy because he just lost his girlfriend or something like that.”
                   
“Well,” I whispered back, “you can’t exactly blame me for feeling sorry. I
mean, the guy was posting flyers and they fell over.”
                   
“Your point?” he raised an eyebrow.
                   
“And then he was having some sort of trouble with photo services,” I tried to
find the words.
                   
“Your. Point?” Angelo was ticked off.
                   
“And he thanks me for not asking about Melissa, which makes me think he must be feeling really-”
                   
“ Your point ?” he interrupted.
                   
“Well,” both Angelo and I turned to face our homeroom teacher standing right
beside us, “aren’t we feeling in a chatty mood today?”
                   
“We were just really excited about the Valentine’s fair,” I smiled awkwardly,
obviously lying through my teeth.
                   
“Well,” Ms. Iamb crossed her arms, “then maybe you two should join the committee.
We’re meeting every day after school from four to five. I expect to see you
both there today.”
                   
“Yes, ma’am,” Angelo smiled and saluted. I smiled, showing my teeth. When Ms.
Iamb went back to the front of the classroom, Angelo gave me two fingers, and I
flicked at his nose. “This is all your fault,” he
frowned.
                   
“You were the one who decided not to stick with the notes,” I crossed my arms
and laid back onto the chair.
                   
“I would have if you didn’t invite Vernal,” he crossed his arms.
                   
“What’s your problem with him anyway? You don’t know him,” I shook my head,
irritation growing.
                   
“Neither do you, and that’s the point,” he turned to face me. “You’ve been
obsessing over the guy for, what, two years? A guy you never even talked to up
until whenever it was you decided to invite him to our anti-Valentine karaoke.”
                   
“I am not obsessing,” I said defensively.
                   
“Yeah?” he challenged, “Then explain why you invited him to anti-Valentine
karaoke the moment you got the chance.”
                   
“Angelo de Laurentiis and Ruby Balbacois ,”
Ms. Iamb scolded from the front. “Those had better be some very good ideas you
have if you can’t stop talking about them.”
                   
“Sorry, Ms. Iamb,”Angelo and I said in the rehearsed
apologetic tone every student uses in moments like this.
                 
“Since this is your first offense, I’ll let you off with a warning,” she
smirked, as if she were so righteous in “forgiving” us.
                   
“Thank you, Ms. Iamb,” Angelo and I said in the rehearsed thankful tone every
student uses in moments like this, which, if you listened carefully, was the
exact same tone used for apologies as well. Why couldn’t the teachers tell? Oh yeah,
because they’re all too busy being self-righteous and acting as if they’re
always right and know everything.
                   
It turns out that Ms. Iamb was just being all talk, as usual. Angelo and I
skipped out on the meeting and went straight to the karaoke