Pregnancy Chronicles: Chapter 2
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The Pregnancy Chronicles
Chapter 2
by
R.L. Mathewson
“Welcome to A.P. United States History,” Jason said as he gestured towards the whiteboard while he took in the classroom full of students visibly struggling not to panic.
Oh, this was going to be a fun year, he thought, biting back a smile as he grabbed the stack of syllabuses.
“My name is Mr. Bradford and I’ll be your teacher this year. Everything that you will need to pass my class and pass the A.P. exam is outlined in this syllabus,” Jason said as he walked across the aisles, handing a stack to the students in the front row. “My rules are very simple, leave the excuses at home, come to class prepared to work, and don’t let me catch you with a cellphone in my class,” he drawled as he dropped the last stack off and reached over and plucked a cellphone from a girl, who better get used to losing her phone.
He dropped the cellphone in the basket on his desk as he grabbed the syllabus that he’d made notes on this morning and–
“Will Mrs. Bradford be back this year?” a boy sitting in the back row asked, looking really fucking hopeful.
“Not this year,” Jason said, starting to shift his attention back to the syllabus in his hand when the disappointed groan had him narrowing his eyes on his class.
The muttered, “Damn it,” had him debating assigning homework on the first day.
“My class is just as fun as my wife’s,” he pointed out only to be met with blank stares that had him biting out, “It is.”
“Wasn’t she teacher of the year last year?” someone asked, earning a glare.
“That contest was rigged!” he snapped, deciding that they’d be having a pop quiz tomorrow.
“Was it though?” someone with a death wish asked.
“How do you feel about research papers assigned the first week?” Jason asked with a look that told them that he would fucking relish doing it.
“That Mrs. Bradford wouldn’t do that,” came the reply that had his lips twitching.
“No, she probably wouldn’t,” he murmured absently as a small vibration in his back pocket drew his attention.
“I thought we weren’t allowed to have our cellphones in class?”
“You aren’t,” Jason said, swiping his phone open when he saw that he had a message from Haley and found his lips twitching because she was just too fucking adorable for words.
When would she ever learn? he couldn’t help but wonder as he responded, ignoring her threats of violence and revenge to remind her that she was supposed to take it easy. That was followed by sending Sebastian a text message, asking him to make sure that Haley ate something for lunch since he normally showed up every Monday to borrow books.
It had gotten to the point where they were buying books just so that the poor kid had something new to borrow. The kid belonged in school, Jason thought, biting back a sigh, knowing that there wasn’t much that he could do about it right now. In a couple years, when Sebastian was fourteen, he planned to…to…
“What the hell?” he found himself saying as he tried to make sense of the text message that his wife sent him only to feel the air rush out of his lungs with the next picture.
God, she wouldn’t…
She would.
Licking his lips, his gaze shot to his class to find his students watching him before it went back to picture that his wife had sent him to drive him out of his fucking mind. God, he wanted more, Jason thought, leaning back against his desk only to groan when the next picture came through, making him bite back a groan.
She was a fucking tease, he thought as the next picture that threatened to drop him to his knees, came. What the hell was she thinking sending him these? Jason wondered, shaking his head in disbelief only to find himself muttering, “God damn,” when the next picture came through and–
“Are you okay?”
“No,” Jason said, not bothering to look up as he rubbed a trembling hand over the back of his neck as he told himself that she’d gotten her revenge and would probably lose interest soon only to whimper when she sent a close of up of those fluffy pancakes that he would happily fucking drench in syrup and butter.
That was followed by a picture of coffee cake, a plate of bacon, and a lemon danish that he would fucking kill to sink his teeth into and the realization that his wife was about to make his life a living hell.
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