Anonymous

1

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose/ By any other name would smell as sweet"

"Ms. Buckingham"

I, 'Ms. Buckingham' answered in a respectable tone to my English teacher.

"Yes,  Miss?" I inquired, feeling dread well up inside me. It would be one of 'Those' days.

"What is in a name?" She asked innocently. Her face was set in the same way as her voice, both innocent, but both hidden with malcontent. My English teacher had despised me from day one of my first year at St. Louis. The moment I had stepped in to her blank, white room, that she had tried to spruce up with posters on novels and quotes from famous plays, I had been targeted. The forty minutes I had to endure in her class were a daily living hell for me.

"I don't know, Miss," I answered. This was the safest way to give Miss Malligan an answer. No sarcasm, no smart-ass answers, nothing. It was the safest way. 

Miss Malligan's badger-like face scrunched up in triumph. She flicked back her head, mousey brown hair flying. Her hair was mainly brown, but, for some bizarre reason, it was streached with blonde on only the right side of her head. No one knew why, many have wondered, one girl even asked, that was not a great day for the class... I personally thought she was trying to act young or something. But to be honest I couldn't care less about Miss. Malligan and her hair issues. My main focus in her classes were to attract the least amount of attention possible, it never worked but it was the most I could do to help the situation.

"What did you say?" cooed Miss Malligan, her blue coloured eyes were wide with delight. She was actually enjoying this.

"I don't know, Miss," I stated very calmly, hoping I kept my face blank. Anger was building up inside like a volcano ready to erupt. I was not the type of person who would usually not take this but, after three years you learn to take it. There is no point arguing with Miss Malligan, she would always win.

"I see," her voice was a sharp hiss inside the room. Everyone in the class had gone still. None of the thirty Junior Cert. students sitting in the class wanted to attract our teacher’s attention. Miss Malligan's temper was legendary in our school and no one wanted to be at the end of it. I completely understood but after three years of being insulted, yelled at and played with for sport, you start to wonder if these people are really your friends at all. The large clock, placed at the back of the classroom, ticked loudly in the deadly quiet room.  

“Is there a reason you do not know this?" she inquired. Her voice was as deadly as the atmosphere in the room. Another reason Miss Malligan was so disliked was her Bi-polar attitude. She could switch from just making fun of you to actually insulting you in a heartbeat. Both were unpleasant experiences.

"No, Miss," I uttered quietly. My hands were fidgeting under my desk. I could feel the sweat gathering on my back. I had said I had gotten used to them, not that I liked them.

 "Well there has to be a reason? Now, doesn't there?" Her voice was as sharp as ice.

"Not necessarily, I have to say," This voice that spoke was sadly not mine, but was from a brown-haired boy, who was now standing at the door, with the whole class turned around in their seats, craning to see the owner.

He looked at ease, standing there, wearing the green of S.t Louis. The boy was wearing our uniform, but I had never seen him before…. and he was not the type of person you would forget. First of all, he had bright blue streaks in his hair. It was the most eye-catching aspect of his appearance and I have to say did kind of suit him. He held himself with confidence, a mischievous grin etched onto his face. I stared at him and found myself instantly liking him. He didn't seem snobbish or Mr. popular. He seemed...nice; the boy next door almost. And as another bonus to my impression of him, he was standing up for me right now. 

Miss Malligan had gotten over the initial shock of this encounter and was menacingly glaring at the bright blue haired boy.  I looked from one to another and felt a spike of fear for my saviour. My staring had caught his attention and he glanced at me, giving me a wink.

"And you are?" M.s Malligan stared at him, not even trying to hide her disgust. She was the badger and he, her prey. 

"I'm the new guy," he retorted, that grin still on his face. He had a strong British accent that most of the girls in the class sighed at. I continued staring. This 14 or 15 year old boy looked like he didn't even notice the death glare Miss Malligan was giving him. He was fearless.

M.s Malligan was now getting angry. Her fingers were beginning to fidget and her left eyebrow had begun twitching.

"Fagann tu mo ranga, anois!" *

Her shout disturbed a flock of birds peacefully sitting on the window ledge, just outside the classroom. The echoes were to be heard well after her shout. 

The boy, who was English, it seemed, did not get startled by my English teacher's random angry Irish outburst, but stated calmly that the principal wanted him here. Miss Malligan was shocked. She clearly believed she would come out better in this conversation, greatly under the impression the boy would not understand her. However, here he was standing here asking where he could sit. I couldn't help but smile. This boy, whoever he was beginning to make a really good impression in my head. He was original, funny, clever and actually nice, something I couldn't say for all guys his age. I liked him and if he stayed in my class, I really hope I can get to know him, but more importantly, I hoped he would get to know Miss Malligan.

Hey any readers! This is just a random thing I thought of. It's only a sample, so if you want more or your kinda interested just leave a comment, I'd be chuffed to get one! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed :)

*This Irish is not the best, sorry about that...but I just had to include it :D