Shockwave: Avenger N.o 7

2. La Morte de Toby

"Je pense que on ne mange pas le glace parce que c'est mauvais pour la santé." recites the sniveling voice of Frederick Ferguson. Miss Prof's eyes gleam with delight, because for what appears to be the first time one of her students is actually speaking French.

"Je pense que... Frederick Furguson will never stop his dreadful toadying, even if his life depended on it." I whisper out of the corner of my mouth playfully to Elisa on the row behind me.

"And be a big fat teachers pet 'till the day he dies. Heer heer.", replies a slightly less bored Elisa, drumming her fingers on the desk and staring fixatedly at the slow ticking class clock. Eagerly waiting for it to strike six and for the night class to end.  All of a sudden her slight smile disapears only to be replaced with a frown. She turns to look at me and queries worriedly "Did you see the news last night.".

I give her a look of scepticism. Attempting to suss if she's pulling my leg or not. Eventually I decide to play it safe and so ask "Why? What's happened?".

"Miss Quentin.", Miss Prof says, affronted. I spin around so as to face her.

"Yes Miss", I answer, I'm afraid to say, rather ill-temperedly.

"You're staying with me after class has ended. I expect you to not talk in my lessons and -"

"Yet you always look so mortified when none of us answer your questions. Really Miss, you need to make up your mind. Oh and you also need to sort out your priorities."

As soon as the words leave my lips I regret saying them. It's not big or clever to use Harry Potter quotes against someone. At this, I must admit, I snigger.

"OUT!"

***

A large raindrop leisurely makes it's way down the other side of the triple-glazing window. It draws to a halt about half way down only to be jolted back into action by another raindrop. Sometimes that how I feel. The classroom door behind me opens and then closes. I don't turn around.

"I have been told that you're behaving like this is because someone you liked recently passed on." Miss Prof. Come to gloat I presume. But then I realize something.

"Who told you this?". I can't help it but my voice is full of disconcertion and mistrust. There is a pause and then the sound of cautious foot falls approaching. Before I know it my usually mean French teacher has pulled up a chair sat down on it and joined me in staring out the window.

"A friend of yours. Apparently that's what was more important than my lesson earlier. According to your priorities.". To my utter surprise I can detect a certain level of humor in her voice as she says this. But I try and not let this show. "It's OK to grieve Freya."

I let this sink in. But it's not right. "You don't understand. I don't have the right. To grieve would be an act of selfishness."

"And why is that?"

I can't believe I'm actually going to say this to my French teacher! But... "I've never once spoken to him in my entire life. Not once. But I've always liked him. I was going to tell him as well, at... some point. But before I can he gets killed by a pair of insolent, supercilious, worthless mutants. If I were to grieve I would more likely be grieving for the time we could have had together. Therefore making my grief selfish. So, no it is not OK to grieve and I am not going to.". With that I stand up, feeling the shame bare down on me like a gigantic beast. Ready to rip my throat out.

"Freya."

"No. Just no." I take my leave.