"... so you're not going to want to wait on that. I have had students in the past that think they can just show up without any preparation for their appeal, and those are the people who end up crying."
"God," a kid half-laughed.
The woman gestured with a wave of her hand and a solemn nod. "Now, the essays will be the easy part. All of them are between 300 and..."
Saul reclined his head back, blue eyes rolling up to the ceiling tiles. When will this suffering end? It wasn't so hard. Just give the kids their respective packets and send them on their way. We know how to read. You're going to make us read it anyway, cripes. Traditionally, the Friday before a break was specifically designed for watching movies in class, maybe playing a few board games, or in the case of the last period, getting out of class early. Contrary to this common courtesy of teachers, Mrs. Fowler decided to participate in the sinful activity of assigning them a project over the break and then waste time talking them through it. The boy could only cope so much with her exaggeratedly arched, penciled eyebrows.
He craned his head deliberately away from the teacher, making his decision to ignore her official. Amanda immediately came into his line of sight, her black hair kept up in a tight bun. John, pretending to pay attention to Mrs. Fowler, was blissfully unaware of the scowl set on her face. It only took Saul a moment to locate the source of her irritation. Not only was John shaking his foot that was resting in the basket of her seat, but his elbows were set on the back of her chair, as they were both slouching forward.
She inhaled deeply, glaring daggers into the other wall. Saul was about to resume his daily challenge of counting the ceiling tiles in all of his classes when suddenly the girl whipped her head around, gaze targeting the elbow with determination. Before the other boy could react to the older girl, she ran her tongue quickly over the bony joint. John withdrew immediately, straightening up and staring at her in stunned silence. This drew some attention in class, enough to make Mrs. Fowler cut off in the middle of a sentence. Amanda didn't look back at her, however, and instead relished in the disturbed look on the boy's face.
After a few moments, the geography teacher heaved a sigh and resumed what she was saying. "As I was saying, when you're working on your flags, make sure they correspond with your chosen..."
Amanda turned the other way, her face smug, and sent a wink to Saul before resuming her staring contest with the wall. The boy snorted lightly and looked down at his desk with a small grin. Her antics were typically amusing, to say the least. She was typically alienated in her classes, considering she has been a freshman for the past three years and prominent rumors of her drug use, but she was one of perhaps the closest person that he came to considering a friend in this class, especially. Even with that, their relationship was somewhat fabricated.
His arms folded over the desk, one hand gripping the cuff of his plain button-up shirt in preparation of pushing up his sleeves but stopped himself, making the gesture casual by glancing over at his watch. Five minutes. Saul drew his bottom lip out, channeling the air to blow into his face in an effort to cool off a little. Another reason to leave this class early, Mrs. Fowler was just another old lady who kept her room too flubbing hot. The other wasn't entirely because of the break, since he had to wait for the bus anyway, but if he didn't get out there soon, he might miss the product of months of planning and careful orchestration on his part. It had not been a hot topic for the day, so maybe everyone's surprise will compensate-
"... Saul."
The boy's head snapped up, moving his arms to cover his stomach as he redirected his gaze to Mrs. Fowler. However, her head was turned down, glasses resting lowly on the bridge of her nose as she read off a list. Oh, partners. Saul grabbed the packet being passed down his row without so much as a glance. That must mean... ugh, who did I get? he wondered, scanning over his classmates in an attempt to discern who he had been assigned to.
"God," a kid half-laughed.
The woman gestured with a wave of her hand and a solemn nod. "Now, the essays will be the easy part. All of them are between 300 and..."
Saul reclined his head back, blue eyes rolling up to the ceiling tiles. When will this suffering end? It wasn't so hard. Just give the kids their respective packets and send them on their way. We know how to read. You're going to make us read it anyway, cripes. Traditionally, the Friday before a break was specifically designed for watching movies in class, maybe playing a few board games, or in the case of the last period, getting out of class early. Contrary to this common courtesy of teachers, Mrs. Fowler decided to participate in the sinful activity of assigning them a project over the break and then waste time talking them through it. The boy could only cope so much with her exaggeratedly arched, penciled eyebrows.
He craned his head deliberately away from the teacher, making his decision to ignore her official. Amanda immediately came into his line of sight, her black hair kept up in a tight bun. John, pretending to pay attention to Mrs. Fowler, was blissfully unaware of the scowl set on her face. It only took Saul a moment to locate the source of her irritation. Not only was John shaking his foot that was resting in the basket of her seat, but his elbows were set on the back of her chair, as they were both slouching forward.
She inhaled deeply, glaring daggers into the other wall. Saul was about to resume his daily challenge of counting the ceiling tiles in all of his classes when suddenly the girl whipped her head around, gaze targeting the elbow with determination. Before the other boy could react to the older girl, she ran her tongue quickly over the bony joint. John withdrew immediately, straightening up and staring at her in stunned silence. This drew some attention in class, enough to make Mrs. Fowler cut off in the middle of a sentence. Amanda didn't look back at her, however, and instead relished in the disturbed look on the boy's face.
After a few moments, the geography teacher heaved a sigh and resumed what she was saying. "As I was saying, when you're working on your flags, make sure they correspond with your chosen..."
Amanda turned the other way, her face smug, and sent a wink to Saul before resuming her staring contest with the wall. The boy snorted lightly and looked down at his desk with a small grin. Her antics were typically amusing, to say the least. She was typically alienated in her classes, considering she has been a freshman for the past three years and prominent rumors of her drug use, but she was one of perhaps the closest person that he came to considering a friend in this class, especially. Even with that, their relationship was somewhat fabricated.
His arms folded over the desk, one hand gripping the cuff of his plain button-up shirt in preparation of pushing up his sleeves but stopped himself, making the gesture casual by glancing over at his watch. Five minutes. Saul drew his bottom lip out, channeling the air to blow into his face in an effort to cool off a little. Another reason to leave this class early, Mrs. Fowler was just another old lady who kept her room too flubbing hot. The other wasn't entirely because of the break, since he had to wait for the bus anyway, but if he didn't get out there soon, he might miss the product of months of planning and careful orchestration on his part. It had not been a hot topic for the day, so maybe everyone's surprise will compensate-
"... Saul."
The boy's head snapped up, moving his arms to cover his stomach as he redirected his gaze to Mrs. Fowler. However, her head was turned down, glasses resting lowly on the bridge of her nose as she read off a list. Oh, partners. Saul grabbed the packet being passed down his row without so much as a glance. That must mean... ugh, who did I get? he wondered, scanning over his classmates in an attempt to discern who he had been assigned to.