Yes

"Sure, that sounds great. Thanks." You turn and saunter out of the room. You don't quite know how to feel about about studying at a teacher's house. Nonetheless, you're jubilant at the idea of going to Jean's house. You head to your locker and pack up your bags.
"Hey, John," you hear. You turn to face your gleeful friend, Andy. A buddy since grade school, you've remained close through the troubles of highschool. You even accompanied him to homecoming as a friend, freshman year, an ordeal neither of you acknowledge as fact. He originally introduced you to Emma, and later introduced you to Jean. Two acts you are very grateful for. "How's business?" His lopsided smile somehow managed to equally humor you and anger you, depending on the situation.
"Just swell, Andy. How about on your front?"
"Smooth sailing over here, too, captain!" He laughs, tipping an invisible hat.
"Shut up," you say, chuckling.
"You got plans today?"
"Yeah, studying." You decide to withhold the fact you're studying with a teacher.
"Ah, who needs that." Despite neglecting studying, Andy managed to mainting a solid 3.8 GPA and friendly relationships with his teachers.
"I'll catch you later," you say, still chuckling.
"Still on for Friday?" he asks.
"Yeah. See you tomorrow."

You duck into your mom's sedan, dropping your bag by your feet. "Hey Mom," you say, "How was work?"
"Fabulous as always," she replies. "How about you?"
"Well, easy enough, but the pay is still awful," you joke.
"Haha..." she pulls out of the driveway and towards your house. "Slight detour today. We're picking up Chipotle."
"Sounds good. I need to be somewhere by 4:30."
"You going clubbing again?" your mom jokes back.
"Nah, Mr. Sanders asked if I wanted to stop by for some help with math."
"Okay. I'll tell you what. It's 3:30 already. I'll drop you off at his house, and I'll have dinner ready for after. Hopefully they'll be able to keep you company until then"
She pulls up to Mr. {girllastnames}'s driveway. "When'll you be done?" she asks.
"I'll walk back. Probably around five."
"Sounds good." She drives around the corner, headed to your house. You jog up the driveway to the front door. You hit the doorbell, resulting in a faint jingle. A soft-sounding gait makes it way to the front door.