The Mendacity of Winnie Hart

Chapter Six

Noah wasn't in school the following two days. How did I know this?

Because I hadn't been severely annoyed in two days.

Call it a blessing, call it a godsend, call it whatever you wanted, but I was thankful for it. I feared that he would bother me again on Tuesday, but now that a couple days have passed, I wasn't nearly as concerned. I abandoned nearly every thought of him within the time period, focusing on my homework, Wren, and my mom. The latter probably the lesser of the three, as we'd spent a total of two hours together. That was nothing out of the usual though.

"Let me ask you this: Would you rather use mustard as your only condiment for the rest of your life, or use salt as your only seasoning?"

Wren and I looked at each other for a beat, then went back to the homework we were doing. Ash looked disappointed we hadn't entertained the thought enough to give him an answer. He scooted his desk closer to Wrens so he could look at what she was doing on her laptop.

"Mr. Davey why'd you let him in?" Wren cried, nudging Ash away from her. He had shown up around ten minutes ago, asking our teacher permission to sit in for the period. I guess he didn't have an important class, because Mr. Davey said that it was alright with him.

"Everyone's welcome in study hall!" He said brightly, flipping a page in his book. Evidently, he had finished Moby Dick and had now moved on to Pride and Prejudice.

"Did you know he teaches poetry?" I whispered to Wren, who shrugged.

"Yeah. He's been doing it for four years."

"I thought he only existed to annoy us in study halls. What if it's all a ruse and he's not an actual teacher?"

"Mr. Davey, what's your favorite poem?" Wren called out. Ash and I swiveled our heads over to look at him for his answer.

"Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, by Dylan Thomas," he replied, not even looking up from his novel. "Rage, rage against the dying of the light!" He shook a fist in the air.

Wren turned back to me. "See? If he was a fake, he would've said something by Emily Dickinson or Robert Frost."

"Can we get back to my would you rather question?" Ash said, stealing a hair tie from Wrens wrist to tie his long hair up into a little bun. It was strange seeing him around us, just having a casual conversation. Seemingly, he's grown tired of annoying Wren from afar, and was trying to weasel his way into her life. It was scary how easy he was to talk to.

"God, I don't know. I guess I'd rather use salt as my only seasoning. You're giving me a headache," Wren said, rubbing her temples.

Ash gaped at her. "Are you serious? There's way more seasonings than condiments in the world. You're going to subject yourself to only salt?"

"I eat a lot of salads, I need the dressing options!" Wren exclaimed, slamming her laptop shut. "Why don't you get your seasoning superiority mentality out of my study hall."

The blue-haired girl who normally sat in front of me turned around to shush Wren who made a face back at her. I snickered quietly, trying to go back to doing my English work. Faintly, I heard them drift into a different conversation topic, makin them both much more placid than the previous one. I left them to their discussion and worked on finishing my homework, before I had to turn it in for the day. I'd felt a little lazy yesterday, and neglected to do it before today.

I was motoring along at a steady pace until snapping in front of my face distracted me. "What?"

"Stop being a recluse. Come talk with us," Wren said, and Ash nodded slightly. To be honest, I didn't think he cared whether or not I was involved in their chatter.