Yo so my little brother snapchatted me this morning. He’s in precalc right now and he has the same teacher I had 3 years back.
Like, I’d almost forgotten but I’d discovered some convenient property for figuring out the intersection of weird-ass graphs. Something much easier than the way it was being textbook-taught. I showed my teacher and she was like “damn ur right” and showed the class how to do it that way.
Apparently she teaches her class my method now?? Like the course has been modified and kids learn to do it the “Chrissy Long Theorem” way instead of the way it’d been taught all the years before. My legacy lives on in some nerd-ass math. What a thing
My poor lil bro though. Now he’s gotta try to come up with some theorem to stack up. Pray for him he hates math.
Three days. He had gone three days without seeing her, and he was going mad. In fact, it would have been so much worse had he not been working nonstop sixteen hours per day, coming home only to pass out on his bed face first without even taking off his shoes each night. Nonetheless, he hadn’t had a drink in those three days. He hadn’t touched a cigarette in those three days, and the moment that his boss Chris told him he could leave earlier than expected on Friday with twenty minutes until eleven, he felt a burst of energy, and he was off. Getting to his truck, he sped home, taking a quick shower and dressing in a plain coal grey shirt and his jacket. Once he’d combed his hair and brushed his teeth, he decided to go out the window rather than have a run-in with his father, who was up and about judging by the heavy footfalls outside of his door. Once he was down at his truck, he pulled out his phone and sent a text message.
I’ll be there in twenty. Be downstairs, Emerson. Your doorman hates me.
It was a quick drive uptown now that he knew exactly where he was going, and he had pondered taking the subway, but he decided against it. It was then that he realized just how close their neighborhoods were despite how far apart their worlds stood. He wasn’t as nervous as he had been the first time, but he was still struggling to sit still. It had been a long time since his hyperactivity had sprung out of control, but he couldn’t much help it at the prospect of seeing her. He couldn’t deny it. He had missed her like crazy, and he couldn’t wait to see those bright eyes and pink cheeks and gorgeous lips. He couldn’t wait to feel her hand in his again, and damn, he truly was sounding like a Hallmark card, but he was okay with that because she was worth it. When he pulled up in front of her building, he gave the doorman a wave this time, to which the man only glared. Emmett smiled, for once not caring about the judgment passed on him as he leaned back in his seat. The only opinion that mattered belonged to the beautiful girl he was about to have lunch with.