Cold Blooded
Rather than the characteristic hum, the students sounded like buzz saws. Desks grated like knives rasped on steel. It was just too dad gum noisy. The sub teetered across the classroom, heels clicking and collapsing on the linoleum. So sad to see her announce her defeat before she even
started. Her face clouded, and her eyebrows knit. So sad.
"Pull out your homework." She should have cleared her throat first instead of in the middle.
Kirsten said, "I didn't get any of it." Soft as a peach on the outside, hard as the pit on the inside. I knew what she was up to. What she'd been up to every day since the sub stuck her toe in the water.
"You didn't really teach what was in the homework," David said, his dark eyes flashing, teeth revealed.
"Quiet! Who can do number one?"
"I can," I said, craving a reduction of the fever in the ranks.
"Out of your seat. Detention!"
I gasped. I had only been trying to help!
A paper football whizzed up and hit the teacher in the back of her head. Possibly she deserved that.
Ms. Sutton whirled and faced the class. She bent over to pluck the paper wad off the floor, and her jumper rode up showing her plump thighs. Torn lace draped below her hem. David snickered. The teacher's neck turned red and spread like poison ivy.
"Who - threw- this?" she said holding the football over her head. Her flesh began to jiggle. More laughter - mine included.
"David, did you do this?"
"You always blame me!"
"Kids were looking at you."
"Go figure," he said, leaning way back in his chair. "I guess I'm hot."
"Brandy, come up here!"
"Why am I getting a detention?" I wailed.
"I'm having enough trouble without students jumping out of their seats! David, you, too, detention!"
"I'm not going to serve it," David said. I didn't know who I disliked more, David for causing the problem or the sub for allowing it.
Ms. Sutton checked the clock every thirty seconds and shifted side to side in her chair behind her desk. She didn't have the guts to stand in front of the class.
"I'm calling your parents," she said to me as I left. I groaned.
"Pull out your homework." She should have cleared her throat first instead of in the middle.
Kirsten said, "I didn't get any of it." Soft as a peach on the outside, hard as the pit on the inside. I knew what she was up to. What she'd been up to every day since the sub stuck her toe in the water.
"You didn't really teach what was in the homework," David said, his dark eyes flashing, teeth revealed.
"Quiet! Who can do number one?"
"I can," I said, craving a reduction of the fever in the ranks.
"Out of your seat. Detention!"
I gasped. I had only been trying to help!
A paper football whizzed up and hit the teacher in the back of her head. Possibly she deserved that.
Ms. Sutton whirled and faced the class. She bent over to pluck the paper wad off the floor, and her jumper rode up showing her plump thighs. Torn lace draped below her hem. David snickered. The teacher's neck turned red and spread like poison ivy.
"Who - threw- this?" she said holding the football over her head. Her flesh began to jiggle. More laughter - mine included.
"David, did you do this?"
"You always blame me!"
"Kids were looking at you."
"Go figure," he said, leaning way back in his chair. "I guess I'm hot."
"Brandy, come up here!"
"Why am I getting a detention?" I wailed.
"I'm having enough trouble without students jumping out of their seats! David, you, too, detention!"
"I'm not going to serve it," David said. I didn't know who I disliked more, David for causing the problem or the sub for allowing it.
Ms. Sutton checked the clock every thirty seconds and shifted side to side in her chair behind her desk. She didn't have the guts to stand in front of the class.
"I'm calling your parents," she said to me as I left. I groaned.
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