To Andrew, with love

Chapter 8 - Writing of a loved one...

ENJOY!

_________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 8 - Writing of a loved one...

Life was difficult. I had this bad habit of aiming for something that is near impossible to achieve:

Wanting to become World President, wanting to live on the moon, wanting to discover a theory that will replace Darwin's and now, for that extra cherry on top:

I think I'm crushing on my Biochemistry Teacher.

No kidding - this has to stop. What would happen if Mrs Duncan found out? Or Mrs McCarthy, the head of Science? Worst still, what if other girls in the school found out? They'd never let me live!

I think I need to go to Mr Kevin and ask him a couple of interesting questions about law in the UK... I'm sure he'll be pleased to know that I am taking at least SOME interest in the topic, be it a completely random question. 

"Mara!" A voice interrupted my important thoughts - couldn't they see I am busy thinking?

I turned around to see Faye looking at my paper and wagging her eyebrows. What?

Looking down at my paper I saw that instead of writing out my essay on anti-biotics , I was doodling on it - drawing hearts and swirly patterns across the white sheet. Since when was I obsessed with hearts?

Faye was giggling at me - I shot her a mean look.

"Doodles say a lot about your state of mind you know - they come straight from your sub consciousness" She said. At this point she was hysterical with derisive laughter. I didn't see what was so funny.

"Someone's in love..."

Love. I think I hate that word.

I looked at my work and zoned her out of my mind. Why did she always have to be right? I didn't like the way this girl knew me so well - am I really that predictable? I hope not.

I rose my hand and asked Sir for a new sheet. Okay, no fooling around this time - just work. Scribbling on a few words won't kill me.

Okay, concentrate...

As soon as I understood what I was supposed to do, the bell rang, and everyone began to slowly file out of the classroom, and Faye and Ashley went to their next lesson - I told them I'll be long  - my lesson teacher was away today so we were just going to have a free period.

When I was satisfied with my work, I handed it over to Sir. He looked a bit shocked and bewildered at what I'd written.

I followed his gaze on to my paper and began to skim through what I had written:

'Were we ... compare the effectiveness of the antibiotics ... would come to realise ... though methicillin... quite effective, the chloramphenicol was... whereas tetracyline... resistance... mutation... MRSA - Methicillin Resistant Staphylococcus Aureus... Therefore... until needed... ' 

What was so bad? I had just written down Mr Fernando's words from last year. An image of our GCSE ISA flashed into my head, when Mr Fernando had been ill and we had asked the science faculty technicians to call him to confirm questions. 

I shook myself out of my thoughts to watch Mr Andrew read my essay.

He was still staring at it - but his pupils weren't even moving across the lines - was he even reading it? There was a look of recognition on his face and he just held my paper in his hands. He looked as if he was staring straight through my paper - as if it were invisible. There was a hint of grief in his eyes and his voice was very low.