sum madness and badness, combuhnayshun

Ethos, Pathos, Logos

Fresh Monday morning, the aftertaste of chai lingers on my tongue. My eyes are heavy, drooping to the sound of chatter and zippers. If I hadn't let 2 of my 8 hours sleep succumbing to scrolling on Instagram last night, I would've noticed him clearing his throat to start class.

"Ren, can I see what you wrote for the speech annotations?" That's Jewel, class's #1 answer plug but will never put enough effort to do his own homework.

Ren hastily find his paper from his binder. "You owe me at least three homework's you know that right." He hands Jewel the presidential speech that was Friday's class work.

"Alright everybody, good morning. Take out FDR's speech and be prepared to share your bell ringer." Mr. Ables. His 8:00 AM voice shoots an order throughout the classroom, side chats quickly overtaken by silence and keyboard clacks.

I've gotten my chromebook out before others, my bell ringer has been done as soon as they were posted at 7:23. I keep my gaze on him. The area between his eyebrows scrunch, he flips through the pages of his papers. While my classmates compose their opinions on the speech, I study Mr. Ables freshly shaven face. His steady breaths,  his fingers fidgeting in the corner of the paper, the nicely ironed out dress shirt. The inside of his cheeks slightly sinks in, he bites it down gently, like he always does when he is focused. He looks up and scans the classroom to see if the majority of us is finished with the bell ringer.

Mr. Ables releases the tension on his fine jaw to begin sharing the lesson. "Does anyone know what rhetorical device FDR used and share an example?" A handful of arms shoots up and class discussion lifted his attention away.

...

I've been eyeing the time on my computer, four minutes until the clock hits 10:10. Mr. Ables wraps up the lesson with tonight's homework and dismissed everyone back to their tables from the group assignment. His eyes met mine again, then it quickly flickers to his table. I bite my tongue to hold back a smile. Today I wore my short sundress, a floral pink with two top buttons opened at my chest. It doesn't violate dress code, though I know that from his point of view he would get a glance of my cleavage.

The bell rings, people scattered onto the hallways as I pretend to be the last one inside his class looking for my pencil in my bookbag.

Then there was just me and him. I'm a senior with no second period, and he's my english teacher who only teaches first and fourth period. That leaves 90 minutes, where my youth and his middle aged yearn for a good time, collides.