Pencil, Paper, and Passion.

Chapter Five: Shifting the balance.

I knocked on Mr. Gallagher's classroom door after school and waited impatiently for him to open it. I considered just walking in, but, who knew what he could possibly be doing? So, I stood, scowling at his door.

Suddenly, the door swung open and Mr. Gallagher's frowning face filled my vision. I lifted an eyebrow when he only stood in the doorway, staring at me. "Well, are you going to make me stand in the hallway or do you want your closet organized?"

His frown intensified, but he stepped back, allowing me to enter the classroom. I walked to a desk in fthe front row, dumping my bag in the seat and my phone on the desk as I turned around to look at Mr. Gallagher. He shut the door before he spoke, "Alright, Elizabeth, let's get started."

He gestured to another door, at the back of the classroom, and motioned for me to follow him as he started towards it. Mr. Gallagher opened the supply closet door. I leaned around him and gasped. I turned disbelieving eyes on Mr. Gallagher. "You actually expect me to have that organized in one month?! I'd be lucky to get it done within the year!"

He lifted an eyebrow and I shook my head vehemently, "Oh, no, no way. If it's not done in a month, you're on your own."

Without waiting for a reply, I stepped into the closet and surveyed the mess around me. Mr. Gallagher had said it looked as though things had been haphazardly thrown in. Massive understatement, I thought in wry amusement.

It looked as if an explosion had gone off; papers everywhere, boxes tipped over, shattered glass and...I shuddered...what looked to be spider webs in every available spot. I turned hard eyes on Mr. Gallagher. "One spider," I warned. "And I'll let Mr. Avery suspend me."

Mr. Gallagher laughed. "I can't garauntee that you won't come across at least one or two, Elizabeth. But, if you do, give a yell and I'll come kill it."

I rolled my eyes. "My hero." Turning back around, I pursed my lips. "Where's the best place to get started? Spider webs." I stated, answering myself. I asked Mr. Gallagher, "Is there a broom?"

His own lips pursed, he scanned the large closet before stepping in from the doorway and reaching out. His hand closed on a faintly green stick and he tugged, unearthing an old-fashioned broom with a cry of triumph. Grinning, Mr. Gallagher held out the broom, handle pointed towards me. "Here. You know, those spiders won't be happy about you tearing down their homes..."

I gave him an arch look as I took the broom. "I don't expect they'll be any happier when I squish them, either, but it's still going to happen."

He gave me an odd look as I quickly dispensed with the webs. "You didn't grow up in the public school system, did you?"

I frowned, confused, and set the broom aside. "Yes, actually, I did. Why would you assume that I hadn't?"

"You don't speak like a normal teenage girl. You sound ten years older than you actually are." Mr. Gallagher tilted his head curiously. "Where do you suppose you got it from?"

I shrugged, squatting down to pick up loose paper. "From my private tutors and nannies, I expect. My mother informed them that I was to be brought up as an intelligent, politely behaved young woman."

He grimaced. "That sounds awfully boring."

I shook my head, smiling suddenly. "No, not all the time. Every now and then, my dad would dismiss whichever tutor or nanny I had that day, and we'd go sliding down the banisters or he'd take me out for ice cream."

Mr. Gallagher laughed. "That sounds fun. Do you two still slide down the banisters?"

I shook my head again, my smile turning sad. "No, my dad in a plane crash, about four years ago."