How I Became A Hero

I'm Booted from the Team

Okay, two periods down. Two to go. At least I had Pre-Calculus with Tony. But. Pre-Calc.
Even the classroom itself was sad and boring.

"Dude, Tony, I'm so screwed on the Alchemy quiz. Oh my God." I sat on Tony's desk.

"It was so easy!"

"No, it really wasn't"

He was laughing now. "Did you even do your homework for this class?"

I looked around and said quieter, "No."

"Good luck with that." Tony smirked and I sat in my seat.

Our Pre-Calc teacher, Mrs. Spinner, was a fairy. She was half my size and held three times the hatred. Maybe that's why I was miserably failing. And to add to that, She was older than Periwinkle Beach. No, she was literally older than my town. Fairies live too long.

"Okay class. Put your phones away." The teacher droned. She passed us papers. "I'm giving you your tests from last week and I have to say that I'm very disappointed in you. Except Ms. Johnson, of course. She got the highest score of 93%. Good job Angelina"

I got mine back. Oops. 67%. Maybe I'm not the smartest.

Someone came in carrying a small yellow paper. She handed it to Mrs. Spinner and left. The teacher squinted at the note and said, "Aaron Turner, pack up your stuff and go to your counsellor right now."

I started panicking. Counsellor? Oh God am I in trouble? I got to the office and knocked softly on the door.
"One moment please!" Came from inside. It was deathly quiet in the office, the only disturbance the occasional single ring of a phone.
The door opened and a friendly-looking young fairy opened the door.

"Hi, Aaron Turner?"

"Ye-yeah."

"Okay, come in."

The "Counsellors" at our school weren't there for personal problems, but rather to help you with your schedule, figure out if you're able to be in a particular class, that kind of thing.

In her bright little office, the large figure of Coach Gomez, the head football coach, filled one of the small chairs. Why was he here?

"Hi, Mr. Turner." He said.

"Um, hi." I said back.

"Aaron, are you having family problems or-?" Mrs. O'Hara, that's what it said on her desk, sat and looked at me sweetly. "Why are your grades dipping so low?"

"Um-I-" I was terrified. Truthfully, I wasn't doing much of my homework, and I wasn't understanding much of the lessons.

"You know, Turner, the policy is that you must keep a 2.0 GPA to stay on the football team." Coach Gomez intervened in that gruffy, stern voice of his. Oh. That's what this is about.

"Aaron, I'm really sorry, but your current GPA is a 1.7." Mrs. O'Hara added

"Oh. So... I'm off the team." God, today is just terrible to me.

"I'm really sorry-"

"No, it's okay, it's my fault."

"I can sign you up for a study group or get you a tutor if you need or-"

"I'll talk to my parents about it. Thank you though." I fake smiled at her.

"Turner, after school today, I want you to go into your locker and clear out everything, okay?"

"Yes, sir, I'll do that."

"That's all, you're excused, go to lunch, kiddo." He pat my shoulder and smiled a little.

"Thank you, Mrs. O'Hara." I shakily stumbled out of the office.