The Garden of Eden

Chapter 2

I walked in behind Olive and sat down in the front row. 'Even the classrooms look more elegant than American ones.' I thought.

My teacher rushes in with a stack full of papers, even though the bell hasn't rung yet.

"Bonjour la classe, ouvrez vos cahiers à la page 33, commençons."

I don't understand a word and am so confused until Olive notices and whispers to me what she said.

"Take out your notebook and go to page 33."

I mouth a thank you to her and take out my notebook.

After an hour of struggling to keep up and frantically writing down every word she said, I was exhausted. So when the bell rang I was the first one out the door.

Olive went to English after, but I had History, so I made my way to the other end of the wing and got there just before the bell. I sat down in a huff and took out my materials. Unlike French, I was prepared for this class.

The teacher was late and I was anxious I had the wrong class. That was until I saw him come in. Dressed in a button down tucked into fading jeans and a worn down belt, I knew only a history teacher would wear such a thing. I chuckles silently at my not all that funny joke, and waited for him to begin.

To my surprise he started to shoot questions to the class, testing their knowledge on the material.

Soon it became a competition, a game to see who was best. Before I knew it many people had dropped out.

With a few people left, the teacher was giving out specific questions, each one more difficult than the last.

"When was the first postage stamp made, and who was on it?"

My head swiveled back to the boy answering the question. I hadn't noticed him before, but he seemed to know all the answers somehow.

"May 1840, and Queen Victoria was featured on the front."

"Correct." The teachers voice brims with pride. He knows this boy.

After a few more minutes of back and forth questions, we were the only ones left, and I was determined to win.

"Final question to Mr. Sinclair. Winchester was the first capital of England, but from what time?"

I look at him and try to recognize the last name, but I can't. He doesn't take his eyes off me and says, "827 to 1077."

My face drops in confusion. That's not right. My teacher notices too and looks at him in surprise. The question wasn't that hard after all.

"Um, Ms. Chantelle, would you care to follow up?"

I keep my eyes locked with the boy's, looking for a hint of trickery.

"827 to 1066." I say slowly.

"That is correct." He says, relieved someone knew the answer.

The boy just tilts his head, eyes still on me and smiles curiously yet knowing.
The bell rings and I find him on my way out.

"Hey," I say, pulling at his shoulder so be turns. "You knew the real answer, why did you mess it up?"

He stares down at me with a slight grin and says, "Did I? I was certain it was right. Huh..." His tone is almost mocking, since he knows I know differently.

I shake my head and turn to leave, feeling his eyes follow me. Who was this boy?