Chapter 6

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by takemetothe_lakes

by takemetothe_lakes

Steve Pie

Today there's a walking field trip. I can't go with the rest of my classmates, however, because my dear mother refused to sign my permission slip for it. She said she didn't trust me enough for me to be able to walk in the "hood joints" of Chicago while looking at murals. I think she's just a twinge biased.

Not that I really wanted to go in the first place. To start with, I hate walking anywhere, and the majority of the trip was just straight walking.

I also knew that Peter's parents shared a similar sentiment towards the "hood joints," as my mother referred to them. I thought if he just stayed at the school, he should at least have a buddy to endure the torture with.

As our peers walk out of the classroom, I overhear some of them talking to each other about how Peter and I aren't going on the field trip and how we're going to "do things in the bathrooms." Personally, I don't understand what "things" they are referring to, nor why it's so funny, but many of our classmates begin snickering at the remark.

Once all the trip-goers leave, an imposing figure casts a shadow within the door's entryway. Her menacing stature causes a chill to run collectively through the people staying, and even through the leaving party as they feel her presence from a while away, praying for our safe return after our time with her.

Ms. Winsley, as we know her by, is an infamous, Trunchbullian individual within our school community. She preys upon the innocent and wreaks havoc upon those who go against her word. She has her student friends - her favorites - and her student enemies - her foes, and unfortunately, I am one of the latter.

I take a breath in and breathe out, like how Calm Classroom always tells us to do. Today is going to be rough.

At about 11:00, two students leave to use the bathroom. Finley and Surina. I knew Surina would do so at some point, she's famous for leaving for the bathroom and never coming back, but I would never take Finley as the kind to engage in such fiendish activities.

What surprises me more is that Ms. Winsley lets them "go to the bathroom." She, out of anyone, is the most wary and strict about bathroom usage by each student, even going so far as to ban it outright for the upper graders.

During this bathroom time, I later learned that the two girls had called their parents to let them get early dismissal for not being able to attend the field trip. Their parents oblige, of course, and a few minutes later they call them down for said dismissal.

I and the other students know they just wanted to catch up to the rest of our peers at Time Out Market. Considering their mocking expressions and tongue-poking, we can tell our hypothesis is correct.

I just hope they have fun, it would be a shame if, for all that pining on their part, it ended up being the most boring outing ever outed.

With two students out at this time, one of which being possibly the most disruptive in all of the eighth-grade collective, Ms. Winsley decides to go more lax on us and allows us to play whatever video games we want. Peter and I, however, opted for studying mathematics and grinding our separate IXLs and Khan Academy skills. Most other students eye us with disgust, but Ms. Winsley, to our surprise, graciously offers her praise for our being good, diligent students.

Peter looks at me with a rare sight these days - a warm smile. Not a sugarcoated one, a genuine, happy smile. I don't want to spoil the moment, so I save our extension conversation about Kendall for another time and instead decide to savor the kindness he offers.

Landon Line

Some of the kids today weren't able to come to the walking field trip on Fulton Market because they didn't have their permission slips signed. I wonder who that could be.

Steve and Peter were among the few students who were not able to attend. I legitimately feel bad because I heard the infamous Ms. Winsley was watching over them for the time being.

Everyone knows how much Ms. Winsley hates people like Surina who cause trouble within the class and smart-asses like Steve who act all high-and-mighty, like they know everything. I and perhaps other students have noticed his "questions," if you can even call them that since they sound more like they're stating a fact rather than actually asking a question.

I digress. As we're leaving, I feel a chill run up my spine as Ms. Winsley menacingly walks past and into the occupied classroom. I hope they'll be okay.

We arrive at our destination - a food court called Time Out Market - and I spot Surina and Finley there with some of my classmates. Weren't they supposed to be with Ms. Winsley at school?

Seeing my puzzled expression, Surina gave me the rundown of how the two of them went to the bathroom to call their parents to give them an early dismissal so they could accompany us during at least the end of the trip. I acknowledge this and go to one of the other stands to try out some of the food.

I settle on buying from a sushi stand, getting a 20-piece sushi and boba for my budget of $20. An admirable feat, considering almost everything here is at least $15.

After looking around for a bit, I sit with my usual peers on the lower level, next to Ben. He turns to me and we start chatting about soccer and about the valuable practice time we're missing today.

"Look on the bright side, at least you don't have to play with Steve and Peter," Thimath says, gaining a murmur of approval from the rest of our tablemates. "Yeah, but we need them to even be able to play. I'd rather not play soccer with the other team outnumbering us by two players," I come to their defense. Sure, I'm not a fan of their playing skills, but I'm not going to badmouth them in front of the listening ears of our classmates and teachers.

"I guess, but it doesn't make them any better at playing soccer," Ryan states pointedly. Chelsea shrugs, entering the conversation, "I don't even play soccer, so I can't be talking, but your side hasn't been playing... at the level it was previously."

We all nod in unanimous agreement, even myself after not being able to come back at her remark.

"On another note, what do you think they're doing back at school right now?" Thimath asks. "I bet they're in the bathroom together-" Ben snickers before the rest of us burst out with oohs and ahhs like little fifth-grade boys that just realized the function of male genitalia.

"I meant, what do you think Ms. Winsley is forcing them to do right now?" Thimath clarifies with furrowed brows. Chelsea interjects before Ryan or Ben makes an inappropriate remark. "She's probably forcing them to write a 10-page essay on how amazing she is," she grins while poking through her food.

I take a sip of my boba before jokingly responding, "That sounds about right."

Word count: 1203