ChristopherI arrived to class about ten minutes early, confident I had finally gotten the routine down. I saw Leila, Professor Bell, sitting at her desk. I smiled, looking forward to another interesting class. I figured I would make a little small talk with the class relatively empty.I stepped inside, walking towards her desk. “Good morning,” I greeted.“Hi,” she said with a bright smile. “You’re early.”“I am. I think I have the route down.”“Good. How was your drive?”“Easy. The traffic isn’t too bad.”“Where do you drive in from?” she asked.“Lake Conroe,” I told her.Her expression changed. “That’s a very nice area to live.”I was about to answer her when my phone started to ring. “Sorry,” I mumbled and rushed into the hall to silence my phone. Then I saw the number. “Shit,” I muttered, a feeling of dread filling me as I answered the damn call.“Mr. Evans, this is Mr. Hollister at the high school, we need to talk.”I inwardly groaned. The words I hoped I would never have to hear
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