Non Verbal

40

40.

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Lottie's POV.

"What do you mean a D?" I say loudly in front of everyone as Mr Mortley hands back out the math tests.

I stare down at it in despair.

A D?

Man.

I narrow my eyes up at the teacher.

He sighs at me. "Sweetheart, you think I wanted to give you a bad grade? All I can do is count up the marks that you got."

I look back down at the paper.

I knew I was slightly confused. Like I figured that out last night when I reworked through some of the topics and realised that I would have lost a few marks because I got a whole topic wrong.

But I didn't realise I would lose this many marks.

"Don't call me sweetheart. My name is Lottie, sir."

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Talk to me after class, yes?"

I just nod, sulking now and putting my head on the desk.

I was only supposed to be in here for twenty minutes and then I go to mums office.

But she had a meeting today and couldn't help me.

So I have to stay here.

I give up.

I should just give up with it.

I pretty much sulk all the way through the lesson, I don't concentrate. I don't write my notes like I should.

But everyone ignores me, knowing it was best to let me just stay here in my cloud of annoyance.

I had been getting Cs, and the last few tests I actually got Bs.

I was edging up there.

But I fell back down, apparently.

Everyone else leaves the classroom and it's just me left here with him.

"Lottie." Mr Mortley sighs. "Did you do any work this lesson?"

"Can I please resit the test?" I ask, ignoring his question.

He starts to shake his head.

"Please. Okay please? Right tests are just little demonstrations of what we have learnt, what we know. When I did the test, I didn't get it. But I do now, I was working on it last night."

"Lottie, I cannot give you extra chances."

"Why not?"

"Because other children in the class do not get the same treatment. It's would not be fair."

"Yes it would be. It would be equity, right? Because it takes me longer to get it, meaning that when you do a test at the end of the week after we have learnt a new topic, it's not fair because I need longer to digest. I went and worked on it this weekend; see I swear I can do better."

"I don't know..."

"Can I talk to my mum?" I ask. "Like about redoing the test, or even can you email Mr Harris, he will be on my side."

Mr Harris is the special educational needs coordinator. Like we've talked a few times about dyscalculia and dyslexia. He was the one to put me through the tests. They don't think I am dyslexic.

But the math situation is a whole different ball game.

"Please?"

He sighs. "Look. I will make up another test for you. You have soccer, don't you? After lunch?"