Just a Feeling

Chapter 2

         "Welcome back 8th graders!, I'm just going to go over the things on this paper today and we'll start our lesson on drugs next week"
Mr.Gonzales went over the things on the paper for forty-five minutes and then the bell rang.
"Have a good day guys. See you next Tuesday." we all walked out and I met up with Mariana. "So how was Tech-Ed? Boring right."
"Yeah" she said back. There wasn't much to say about Tech-Ed. All we did was learn about architecture, something I won't use in life because I want to become a veterinarian. "We have algebra next. That's upstairs." With my luck, I knew where it was. Room 206, right next to my new homeroom.
Once we got past the sea of students, Mariana sat in the desks across from each other.
"Good morning class", Mrs.Fray said. "I'm Mrs.Fray, and I'll be your algebra teacher this year" "I'm assuming you all know why you're in here."
Last year, in 7th grade, the entire 7th grade took and algebra test, if we did really well, we would be put in algebra for 8th. Then, we received an algebra summer packet. That thing was huge. But if taking algebra now meant no algebra for 9th grade, I'd do it.
Mrs.Fray continued talking, "You're part of the advanced 8th grade, you guys are very smart. And if you pass algebra for this entire school year, you won't have to take it again. You'll be ahead of the other Freshman next year." She paused for what seemed like a few seconds then said, " I'm going to pass out two sheets of paper. This doesn't have to do with math but I do it every year."
The first paper said, "Where does your intelligence lie?" The other one seemed to be an answer sheet.
"Put a T for True, an F for False and nothing if you're not sure." "Then, you count the ones that are True and the other paper will tell you what you are best at." As long as I didn't need to do any actual math today, I was going to be fine.
When the clock read 10:30 we started to pack. "Remember, you come back here for period 6 at 12 o'clock.", Mrs.Fray said. The bell rang furiously, and Mariana and I left for our next class, science. It wasn't my favorite subject, but I knew I could easily pass this class. I didn't know this teacher personally but I used to see him in the hallway every morning when I went to homeroom last year. He was quite tall and bald, with a grey, trapezoid mustache. His room changed this year, because of budget cuts we had different teachers and different rooms. Not to mention they cut sports, not that it affected me. It's not like I would make the girls' basketball team.
I entered through the new social studies class, Mr.Rashmere also changed his room, it used to be up at the library, then in my math class. The classroom is tiny, it's where I used to have social studies class with Mr.Horton in 6th grade. At the back of the bland room there was a door, that door lead me to science class, also known as the garage. The room is the same, except that the tables are now facing forward instead of sideways. Mariana and I take a seat in the second row as other students fill all the tables. Mr.Parole towers over us as he's about to speak.
"Good morning everyone, I'm Mr.Parole, your science teacher." I don't know why teachers do this. It's not like we don't know what subjects we have. He keeps talking but I'm daydreaming about him. He's sitting in the row in front of me. My heart beats a little faster at the thought that he might turn around and see me. I can't just NOT think about him, I have every class with him except for specialist. And then I check my schedule for my next class, social studies, with Mrs.Hess. Wait WHAT?! No. NO no no no no. Not HER. It's bad enough I have her for Spanish again this year but for TWO periods a DAY? Unbelievable. What did I do to deserve this? My day was going so well, even though nothing truly exciting happened, and this name ruined it. I risk a peek at the clock. Five minutes before I have her next. I'm going to have to try to avoid her, I can't stand that dumb look on her face when she sees me again. I pack up my four-subject notebook and my pencil case right before the bell rings again. I can't even remember what Mr.Parole had said, nothing in this school could be worse than having to be in Mrs.Hess's class.
Mariana and I walk out and I start to walk slower. She's two feet ahead of me before she realizes I'm behind her.
"What are you doing?", she asks, clearly confused. "I'm trying not to go to my next class, can you help me?", no matter what I can't help it, I sound desperate. "Well....why? What's so bad about our next class?" Before I respond, she takes out her schedule and reads, "Social Studies, Mrs.Hess"
She ended it with a question. I didn't have time to explain to her so I say, "My Spanish teacher? She's.....indescribable. She might be nice but don't let that fool you!" By looks of her face I sounded crazy. Insane even. Defeated, I let her walk us down to our next class. She practically dragged me around the school. I stopped a few feet away from the door. "Can't we wait a minute? I......" My voice trailed off. I mean, what could I say? That she gives out detentions for no reason? I couldn't explain anything to Mariana, I would have to let her experience this on her own. Well, technically not all on her on own, I was going to go through it twice a day. An hour and a half to be exact.
She went in first, and that just left me. So I took a deep breath ( a little exaggerated ) and went inside. This was actually my same class from last period. Just a few kids added, I feel so bad for them. But I mostly feel bad for ME. She's still there, in front of the class. If I just sneak a left and sit next to-
"Bianca!" Oh my dear Jesus. "It's nice to see you again!" I feel like laughing in her face for that. "Yeah, it's cool to see you too." If she heard my sarcasm, she probably ignored it. I practically ran to my seat and Mariana was totally puzzled. "What was THAT?" she asked. "I told you, I can't explain. This lady is NUTS." But before I can keep talking Mrs.Hess tries to settle the class down. Good luck with THAT, I think to myself.
She might as well have a zoo for a class. Any class really. If she couldn't control her Spanish class last year......it's going to be worst for her this year. But I see myself as the victim. She isn't mean, but I find myself tortured every forty-five minutes I spend with her.
I take a moment to once-over her. She hasn't changed. And that's not a very good thing. She still looks like a VERY over-sized watermelon. Not that I would tell her that, I'm not THAT mean.
"Good morning everyone!", she says a bit too over enthusiastically. "I'm Mrs.Hess." No DUH. "I'm very excited to be teaching another class this year. I teach 7th, and 8th grade Spanish. And I'm happy to see that I have some of my Spanish kids from last year in this class." Good grief. This lady couldn't take a hint. NO ONE LIKES YOU. I wish I could scream it in her face, but I don't want to be sent to the office on the first day back in this prison, bad enough I have her as a teacher.
And there goes my chance of having a perfect 8th grade year. The possibility tossed into the bottom of a ditch because of this teacher. She shouldn't even BE a teacher. All I know, is that I'm going to be miserable, twice a day. What could be worse?