In class, it was chaos: students were chattering like seagulls on the beach. One cheerleader stood up and did the splits on the floor in front of the blackboard. The class erupted in applause. She got back up, bowed, and yelled, "Go Moose!" The class roared back, "Moose! Moose!"
"What's going on?" I whispered, taking a seat next to Ishani.
"Riight, you wouldn't know. There's a big game next week. Our school's team versus Pembertley High."
I probably didn't look surprised enough, because Ishani felt the need to explain:
"Our schools have been rivals for over sixty years. Our school has won for the last three years straight. That's why they're strutting around like monkeys."
"Ahh, now it makes sense why it's so lively." Truth be told, I was only half-listening, because I spotted my morning savior. She was the girl who did the splits! So flexible, I'd never get up after that. And there's the jock who was sure I was trying to break into his locker.
Maybe it's not too late to go to the office and ask them to transfer me to another math class?
"Why the sour face?" Ishani nudged me lightly. "Don't worry about the teacher! I told you everything would be fine."
"It's not about math," I moaned quietly and dramatically.
"Then what is it?"
"See those two? The blonde and the jock."
"Yeah, what about them? Think they're aliens? Wait! That can't be it! Are those the two?"
I nodded and buried my head on the desk. Ishani pursed her lips and shielded her face with her textbook, "I'm sure they won't remember you. Just don't raise your hand if the teacher asks a question to the class," she whispered.
"Are you kidding? I don't understand anything in algebra, geometry, or physics. I won't lift my head from under the desk the whole class."
"Then you have a chance!" Ishani smiled approvingly at me.
Suddenly, the class got unexpectedly quiet. The teacher walked in. Well, he sort of drifted in. He was a man in his seventies, maybe older, wearing a classic suit and a tie so gray it looked dusty. He approached his desk and fumbled in one pocket of his jacket for a long time, then fumbled in the other pocket and finally found his keys, placing them in front of him. The class watched him with some strange reverence.
"Good day! Let's start the lesson. I was informed in the teacher's lounge that we have a new stu..."
Oh my God! No no no! Don't make the class welcome me, don't make me stand up and introduce myself. I'll always be a good girl, just let me stay unnoticed, at least today!
I closed my eyes, ready to face the judgment, I mean, the class, and become the laughingstock or outcast until the end of senior year. On the other hand, in a week, I'll be eighteen. I'll just leave school and work as a cashier at a supermarket or... a stripper (according to mom's idea of job if you don't graduate from school).
"Mr. Brooks, Mr. Brooks," the blond cheerleader interrupted him. She raised her pretty hand, trying to get his attention. Without waiting for an answer, she jumped up and ran to him. Two more girls followed her lead.
"Mr. Brooks," they chirped excitedly. "Mr. Brooks, were you informed that tomorrow we're preparing the auditorium for the annual party after the game? And we were excused from classes on Wednesday for extra practice."
"Mr. Brooks! The book club has a meeting tomorrow after school. We're discussing 'The Cat's Cradle.' Will you join us?" a guy in glasses piped up.
"Good job, good job," other kids in our class whispered. "You're doing a good job distracting him."
"Oh, so that's it!" I whispered to Ishani. "You can distract him with conversations and questions!"
"And what did I tell you! Enjoy the show."
Poor Mr. Brooks nodded to the cheerleaders, then to the book club kids, then to anyone else who asked questions about the previous lesson or weather. In the end, he managed to explain a bit about the new topic before the bell rang for break. He completely forgot about me.
"Is everything okay?" Ishani asked me.
"Yeah, everything's fine..." I replied uncertainly.
"Then why were you staring at Bianca's blond ponytail the whole time? Do you want to thank her or something?"
"Maybe... I don't know." I toss my textbooks into my backpack.
"Well, based on the movies and TV shows I've seen, you're either going to be best friends forever or she'll torment you until the new hottie shows up and becomes your boyfriend just to spite all the popular girls in school."
I looked at her with a serious face:
"You know, Ishani, we could be best friends forever instead," I honestly answered.
"Why could be? We already are best friends!"
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