Dawns High and the Destruction of the Bees

Con.

Roy McCarthy:

Wednesday, May 26th—

"You guys will get an ability check after the finals," Ben says on this Wednesday morning. I will what?

"Are the results public?" George asks. Even if the results are not public, the teachers will still know.

"Yes, it will be," Lily says. "Everybody said their levels on the first days of school so this is nothing to be afraid about. You guys can see how far you've come!"

"What's the point of it if there are ability measurers around the school?" Helen asks.

"So that we can keep a record," Ben says. "Now stop asking so many questions, get on with your training for today." Ugh, I hate this teacher.

The class is in the gym today. I like going outside better, but it's taken by the seniors instead. I bet Zachary is having so much fun right now.

I decide to get a bean bag and start punching it. I put on boxing gloves and am about to start when the class is interrupted. Mr. Old Man walks in looking all high and mighty. What's he doing here?

Turning back to what I was doing, unlike most of the class, I try to ignore the old man to the best of my ability. I hate him and I don't want to see him.

"Everyone stop for a minute!" Lily shouts. Debating on whether or not I should listen, I decide to stop because standing under the same room with his old man is stressful enough.

"Hello freshmen students," Mr. A says with a clear of his throat. "I'll be having a quick five minute conference with you all today on what you want to do next year. Please don't mind me and continue to work until I've called your name. Going first will be Helen Abraham." He then dismisses the rest of us.

Why do we need a conference? Can't somebody else do it? I really don't want to talk to him or face him alone. Since when does the principle give one on one conferences with his students? Isn't that the job of the guidance counselor or homeroom teacher?

I look around and see some students excited to speak with Mr. Old Man and others who are afraid. How does the teachers in this school stand him? Isn't he annoying?

To calm myself down, I punch the bean bag with all my might. If it breaks, not my fault, the school should've prepared for this.

However, the bag doesn't break and comes back in my direction after being hit. I almost get smacked in the face, but am able to avoid it. My arm gets hit nevertheless. After just getting healed, I do not need a broken arm again.

During the course of my furocious training, a few names were called. When Mr. Old Man gets to surnames that start with L, I begin to feel my stomach do turns. But the dread cannot be avoided and finally, when my name gets called, I throw away my boxing gloves and head toward him.

Mr. Old Man is sitting in a corner of the gym; a corner deprived of any human being except for himself and the students he calls over.

"Hello, Roy," he says. I don't bother to say hi back. I hate him that much. I sit on the chair like a kid who has just been grounded by his parents and glare at him.

"Well, let's carry on with things, shall we?" Mr. A asks. I don't answer again. He's clearly going to proceed anyway.

"So do you have anything specific that you'd like to take next year?" Mr. Old Man says. "The transaction to sophomore year is very important in our school district."

"No," I answer, making it sound as bad as I can. I don't even know what classes are offered. Yeah, I don't read anything that goes on in the school, way too boring.