Come morning, I quickly gulp down my glass of orange juice, all but bouncing on my feet. I was oddly revved for someone who stayed up half the night to finish the extended syllabus. In fact, it was one of the main reasons why I usually switched off my cell at sharp 12 the night before every exam, aiming for a straight 8-hour downtime to rest. The other reason was circulating rumours and never-ending speculations about the level of difficulty of the exams each semester at Escala high. Needless to say, staying up had done wonders for my mood, making me as jumpy and restless as a homie on a Redbull fest.
"Good luck", my father wishes me with a fatherly nod, before returning to his daily ritual of newspaper reading. I thank him with a nod of my own before skipping to the garage and pulling out my Chevrolet Camaro, then making a mad dash for the security gate. A brief glance at the empty parking space where my mother's Volvo is usually parked confirms my theory about mom kick starting the day at 6 in the morning yet again. Having two hotshot lawyers for parents makes a normal routine like breakfast a prized privilege in my family. Then again, I didn't mind it too much, I was rather accustomed to their habitual absence, and the money did bring the most wonderful cars coming in.
As was expected, the normally deserted parking lot was full of seniors moaning and bitching about the extended syllabus, and the cruelties of living in a harsh harsh world. Even the overly chirpy barbie gang was complaining about dark circles the size of moon craters presently shadowing their eyes after having to burn the midnight oil, while the school nerds graced the lot with the choicest curses with a few cuss words thrown in. I find myself sympathizing with the crowd while Kate makes her own contribution to the long list of profanities.
The first bell rings and the noise of several shuffling feet drown the bickering voices as we make way towards the examination hall. The hall was in a word, ginormous, specifically designed to ensure a minimum of two feet gap between every examinee. The seating arrangements elicit another round of groans and I stifle the urge to chuckle as I spot my seat in the third row, two seats behind the front bencher. A second bell rings, signalling the distribution of the answer sheets as Mrs Robinson quickly briefs us with the do's and dont's to be followed during the exam, before handing out answer sheets with the help of her fellow invigilator. Finally, the third bell rings and she begins to distribute the question paper while I take a deep breath to empty my mind off everything but chemistry. It turns out to be a wasted effort, though, the collective gasps from the front benchers as they scan the question paper confirms my suspicions, and just like that I know that the rumours about the additions in the syllabus were just that. Rumours.
I table my anger for later and channelize my energies towards solving the question paper methodically. Thirty minutes into the paper, I hear the faint scratch of rapidly approaching boots and the barely quieted bunch goes crazy as Mr. Lincoln enters the hall. Even Mrs Robinson looks a little alarmed at the prospect of witnessing a fellow colleague break the most iron-clad rule of Escala high. Mr. Lincoln wasn't allowed inside the exam hall, quite simply because we were writing the chemistry exam and he was our chemistry teacher. He must have battled a minor war with the principal to be allowed such privilege.
"Listen up. I know some of you guys have come prepared with two extra chapters. I know how this school thrives on rumours but I don't want to go into that right now. Note down the two questions on the board, you'll be answering these instead of questions 14 and 23. I wish you all the best", he completes before reaching the board in two angry strides and writing the questions on the white board in quick scholarly scrawl. he turns around and marched out just as quickly, leaving a behind a stunned audience. In fact, to say that the students were stunned was an understatement. to say that they were elated was a mockery of the expressions of pure ecstasy on their faces as they scan the board with widened eyes and big toothed smiles. The class representative Ethan, who had been jumping up and down his seat with frustration thirty minutes ago was now bouncing with happiness. Throwing one last pitying glance at Mrs Robinson, who clearly had her work cut out for her this morning, I tune out the rising commotion and concentrate on my paper once again. The rest of them praise Mr. Lincoln for a minute oe two before getting back to their papers and everybody settles down eventually.
Everybody but three.
YOU ARE READING
My kind of Grey
FanfictionAnastasia Steele is a straight A career driven student who wouldn't let trifle things like love and emotions come in the way of her ambitions. She is nobody's fool and strives to prove just that. But beneath the carefully laid walls that guard her h...
