Would The Real Mr. Right Please Stand Up!

Copyright © 2013 Aspen Faraway

All Rights Reserved

Epub Edition

ISBN: 978-1-988742-73-15

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including but not limited to: graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photo copying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission, in writing, of the publisher. Infringement of this can and will result in legal action.

This book is a complete work of fiction. No characters, situations, or events are based on real events, situations, or people, living or dead. The entirety of this story is a complete product of the author’s imagination.

HSP

Published by Haven Street Publishing

www.havenstreetpublishing.com

Diary of A Teenage Mom

Book 2 Second Edition

Would The Real Mr. Right Please Stand Up!

By

Aspen Faraway

Chapter 1

I wanted to quit school right then and there. I didn’t care if it was the first day of the school year or not!

I marched straight up to Katie, my so-called best friend, who was currently too busy kissing my ex-boyfriend, Ethan, to even notice me!

Hi, Katie! Hi, Ethan! I said it as more of an announcement of my presence than a friendly greeting. At the moment, I hated both of them.

Emma! Katie exclaimed in shock as she broke away from Ethan.

Emma, Ethan acknowledged with a more subdued demeanor. I knew he hated me, but I wasn’t fond of him right now anyway. What had I been thinking? Any stupid dreams of reuniting with Ethan instantly vanished. All my plans made during the summer suddenly disappeared down the drain. All his previous insults promptly replaced the fantasy I’d built in my head all summer. I mean, how could he even think that I’d gotten pregnant by someone else when he was the only guy that I’d ever even dated? How insulting!

I’m so glad you’re back, Katie said with a weak smile. I could tell she didn’t mean it. Why on Earth would she even want me to return to school when she was seeing my ex-boyfriend and hadn’t even breathed a word of it over the summer? Now it all made sense why she was ‘busy’ so often with her ‘mother’ whenever I’d wanted her to do something with me. I found it funny that she’d chosen to spend her Friday nights all summer with her mother! What was even worse was the fact that she’d listened to me go on and on all summer about how determined I was to get Ethan back! She’d probably been telling him every word I’d said!

I can tell, I said coldly.

See you guys later, Ethan said and turned and wandered away. I couldn’t help it that I hated him right then. I didn’t want to, but I did. For some crazy reason, I also loved him at the very same time. I wanted him to want to be with me—to want to see his baby and to admit that she was even his. I was livid that he could so easily walk away from something that I never could.

Whose class are you in? Katie asked, obviously trying to make me forget that I’d just seen her kissing Ethan. I knew she was just testing the waters to see if I was even willing to remain her friend.

I just shrugged. At the moment, she was so not my best friend anymore. She probably only wanted to know what homeroom I was in so she could know if I was in Ethan’s class or in hers so she could keep an eye on me and keep me away from Ethan.

I wanted to tell her off, but I wasn’t going to confront her now. It had been hard enough returning to school after missing an entire year. My homeschooling had kept me up to grade, but I felt as though everyone was staring at me as I made my way to my locker, leaving Katie alone. I felt as though everyone was thinking, Oh, there’s that girl that got pregnant and had to leave school! I know at least some of them were thinking it because I saw them look away quickly as soon as I looked in their direction.

I found my locker and quickly put my combination lock on it before heading to my homeroom. I was glad I was going to have the new teacher this year. Apparently, he was fresh out of university and this was his first school. At least he wouldn’t know who I was—that I was that girl that had gotten pregnant at sixteen. Now I was seventeen and that seemed like years behind me.

I picked a seat in the back corner. It was as close as I could get to being completely invisible. The other students filtered in, and I got offered $10 to give up my seat to Paul Davis who wanted to sit next to the rest of the guys, and his only other choice was to sit up near the front with the snob squad.

Sorry, you should have arrived sooner, I said. There was no way I was sitting up front near the snob squad.

Twenty bucks, he offered with a painful look of desperation. I’ll give you twenty bucks if you please trade.

I shook my head. Even if he’d offered me a million dollars, I wouldn’t have traded. The last thing I wanted to happen was to have Head Snob Felicity Stanley turn around in the middle of class and ask in a loud voice, So, how’s the baby? I knew she would do something like that. She’s like that. Trust me; I’d personally witnessed her cruelty to other students.

Okay, class, take your seats, the new teacher ordered as he walked in the door and headed straight to the blackboard, scrawling his name across it. I’m Tank Bannister. You can call me Mr. Bannister or Tank, it’s up to you!

We all sat silently as Tank plopped his briefcase down on his desk and smiled at us with a row of straight even teeth. I notice people’s teeth because I used to want to be a dentist. When I was a little kid I’d make rows and rows of sets of teeth out of clay. Then I’d extract teeth, add clay braces, etc. Ironically, I now have a phobia of dentists ever since I had a tooth filled when I was eleven and the dentist didn’t freeze it enough first.

I suddenly wished I’d taken the twenty bucks to sit up front. Tank was too handsome to be a teacher and he looked no older than the rest of us. His thick black hair offset his perfect facial features. He looked more like a movie star than a schoolteacher. He was also too cool to be a teacher; this was the first teacher that had ever invited the students to call him by his first name. I could tell it was going to be a great year.

Okay, I’ll tell you guys a little about me, he said, sitting on the edge of his desk. "This is my first school and you guys are my first students. If you cooperate with me, we’ll get along fine. I’m easy going and can be lots of fun, but I won’t tolerate crap. I’ll be having you guys for homeroom and for English, and I’ll tell you now that I expect excellence. I don’t expect your work to be excellent but I expect you to set a standard of excellence for yourselves and put in one hundred percent effort. My rules are simple, you don’t need to ask to use the bathroom—you guys are nearly adults and should be able to use the bathroom if you have to. I don’t mind if you eat during class but clean up your garbage and don’t let it interfere with paying attention."

He got up and went to the blackboard again. Our new standard is ‘outstanding.’ He wrote outstanding on the blackboard. This class will be known for being outstanding!

Just then my cell phone rang and all eyes were on me. I was so embarrassed.

Another thing, Tank said and pointed at me with a smile. Cell phones get turned off when you enter this room. If I hear it, I take it.

I quickly pulled my phone out of my backpack and put it on silent, noticing that it was my mother that called. My face was hot with embarrassment and I was thankful that Tank went on to explain more of the class rules. I tried to pay attention but I found it hard. Then my phone started buzzing and I was afraid that Tank would hear it and take it so I grabbed it quickly and turned it off. Why would my mother be calling me during school hours? I wondered, and then became worried. Had something happened to Paris?

I felt guilty for turning the phone off but Mom knew she couldn’t just call me during class. I watched Tank write a phone number on the board.

This is my home phone number, he stated as he underlined it. There is never an excuse for not getting your homework done. If you don’t understand something, call me. I’m usually home. If you need help, I’ll give you extra help. If you show up with work not completed, there is no excuse.

I hoped that Eleventh Grade English would be beyond my comprehension because I would certainly take the opportunity to call Tank. I expected probably all the girls in the class would have trouble with English this year. I scribbled his number across the back of my English notebook.

I daydreamed about sharing all my troubles with Tank until the bell rang, and I was forced to leave to go to Math. What a letdown.

Math was boring and the new textbooks for grade 11 weren’t a bit more appealing than for any of the previous years.

Recess came at last and I put my phone on and called Mom.

What’s up? I asked and felt a little guilty that I couldn’t hide my annoyance in my voice. You called me right in the middle of class and got me in trouble.

I’m sorry, Mom said, and I noticed Paris crying in the background. Paris has been crying all morning, and I can’t get her to stop. She must miss you, and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to handle babysitting her while you’re in school because the constant crying is getting on my nerves.

Mom! I exclaimed. How on Earth did she expect me to complete my education if she couldn’t even babysit my child for me? Let me talk to her. Bring her to the phone.

In a few moments, I heard Paris crying full blast into my ear.

Paris, honey, it’s Mommy, I said in a soothing voice. I had to repeat it several times before she stopped crying long enough to even hear it. What’s the matter, sweetie?

I heard Paris babble into the phone and then start crying again. My heart ached to just pick her up and cuddle her. I missed her with all my heart at that moment.

See? Mom said, taking the phone back. I can’t get her to stop crying. I’m going to have a nervous breakdown if I have to keep this up every day until June! I raised my own kid and I don’t have the patience now to raise another.

What—do you want me to just quit school? I asked in frustration. "I’ll look for another babysitter when I get home, but, Mom, it’s not like I’m out partying, for God’s sake, I’m in school!"

I know, I’m just saying, Mom said. I could hear the exhaustion in her voice but it still made me angry. You’ll have to look around for a new sitter.

I hung up and hated that I was being left with guilt and worry to finish my day. How could I possibly concentrate on school knowing that my baby was home crying for me all day?

Hey, what’s up? Katie asked coming up to me.

Nothing, I said as I busied myself with depositing my math book in my locker.

I’m sorry about Ethan, she said. "I wanted to tell you . . . I just didn’t know how."

I shrugged and closed my locker door.

Do you mind? Katie asked, following me down the hall as the bell rang. I mean, that I’m seeing Ethan?

"Do I mind?" I asked, stopping and turning to face her. "He’s the father of my baby! You knew I still had feelings for him!"

I thought you’d be over him by now, she said. "I’m sorry, but he has feelings for me. And . . . he says he’s not the father of Paris."

I just stared at her. Where was the loyalty that was supposed to come with a best friend? How could she believe his word over mine? I just shook my head and walked away. As far as I was concerned, we were no longer friends.

Em! Katie called after me, but I ignored her.

Fortunately, Katie wasn’t in any of my classes. Neither was Ethan, and I was glad. It made it much easier to have a fresh start.

Chapter 2

I rushed into the house after school and right up to Paris’s room. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and my mother was sound asleep in the rocker in the corner. I tiptoed out and gently closed the door. At least they were both still alive! My mother’s panic call first thing in the morning had left me worried all day.

I went into my room and threw my backpack on my bed. At least there was no homework on the first day of school—that was a blessing.

Just as I started down the stairs to grab a snack, Paris started crying. I wheeled around and ran to her crib.

Hey there, Paris, I said softly as I picked her up. It felt so good to just hold her in my arms, and she wrapped her chubby little arms around my neck as I picked her up. Do you need a diaper change?

Thank heavens you’re home! Mom exclaimed as she jumped up from the rocker. "Listen, Emma, I