Salamander Girl

Two

"Very good, Miss Dover. An 'A' as usual."

The tip of my pencil snapped as I pressed down a little too hard. Across the aisle, Alexandra Dover carefully slid the test into her plastic folder, the bright red "A" fully visible through the clear cover. I looked down at the paper folder I'd been doodling on. The cover was torn and the edges were wrinkled. You could hardly tell it was red beneath all the graphite smudges.

The bell rang suddenly, and I struggled to stuff everything back into my overweight backpack.

"Remember to study your vocabulary, the quiz will be on Friday," Doctor Christian announced, wheeling his chair back behind his desk.

I sighed in relief. After biology, I only had one more class before I could go home and help my mom and dad.

"Miss Smith, could I speak to you for a moment?"

I really tried not to wince.

"How quick is this going to be? I have to get to my theatre class." I asked, maybe a little rudely. Doctor Christian raised an eyebrow as she approached his desk.

"Sorry Doctor Christian." I apologized meekly, actually wincing this time.

The last student slammed the door shut behind himself. Wordlessly, Doctor Christian slid a face-down pack of papers across the desk to me. I dreaded what was inevitably written on the front.

A bright red "D" nearly took up the entire page, and I wished that could hide all the glaring mistakes I'd made. It was multiple choice. Multiple choice! How could I get those wrong?

"I'm disappointed, Samantha."

As if I didn't feel terrible enough already.

"You show very good potential, both in the classes you've taken this year and your previous science classes. I was looking at your transcript, and you seem to have excelled in Chemistry last year."

I shrugged, and tried not to cry when I thought of the endless hours of studying that accompanied that final ninety-four-percent.

Doctor Christian leaned back in his wheelchair, and calculating look behind his glasses. He had the classic "mad scientist vibe going for him, with thick glasses, frizzy white hair rimming his head, and even a white labcoat that he wore every single day without fail.

He accidentally bumped into his framed doctorate degree. Why, of all things, was Doctor Christian was teaching eleventh-grade biology instead of holing himself up in a laboratory where he could be working on the next big thing that could make him a multi-millionaire?

"Your parents have said that you want to become a veterinarian like them, is that correct?"

After the last parent open house, Mom and Dad had come home cooing about what a nice man Doctor Christian was. Apparently when they mentioned that their family was Mormon, he became very interested. I don't mind having parents who love to share the gospel, and if I was just a smidge braver (and more musically inclined), I'd sing it out over the school's PA if it meant people would visit our tiny church branch on Sunday mornings. The idea of having more teen girls join the Laurel class sounded incredibly appealing as opposed to being trapped in a tiny room with only Lexi Dover and the clueless Young Women's president.

"Yes sir." I nodded as politely as I could manage

"You do know that biology is a crucial element to become a veterinarian, don't you?" He was trying, her really was, to not sound disappointed and patronizing, but that was all that I could hear.

"Yes sir, I do. I'll do better next time." I reached out to pick up the test paper, but Doctor Christian snatched it and held it out of reach.

"The thing is, Samantha, I don't know if you can. Your grade in this class has been rapidly deteriorating. School started only two months ago," he reminded me.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm trying!" I promised. Did Doctor Christian think that I wanted that "D"? That I was doing this on purpose? for attention?

Doctor Christian propped his chin up in his hands, watching me with such intensity I felt like I'd been turned into one of those weird creatures Doctor Christian kept in the back room for the class to study.

"I think I have a solution." He said quietly.

When I raised a brow in his direction, he repeated himself.

"I think I have a solution," He announced loudly, quickly wheeling himself over to the back room. Curious, I followed.

The science storage room proved to small to fit more than Doctor Christian's wheelchair, so I crossed my arms and impatiently waited next to Doctor Christian's desk while he muttered on, seemingly to himself.

A moment later, he rolled out from storage with a portable terrarium resting on his lap.

"I'll just tell you now, I'm going to have surgery on my knees," He waved his free hand at his lower legs, setting the terrarium on his desk, "I was in an accident a few years back, and I've been stuck in this chair ever since. hopefully, this surgery will fix that. I'll be stuck in a hospital or a home for at least a month, since I live alone and my doctor doesn't trust me to not do anything so stupid."

How funny, I thought, a doctor for a doctor.

"Since I'll be bedridden, I need someone to look after my pet."

Now I could sense where this was going.

"I can watch them! For extra credit, right?"

A smile flickered across Doctor Christian's face, and he smiled. Huh, I really was smart.

"He's a salamander. The specific species of which I've never really known. He's a little shy at first, but I think he'll take to you eventually."

"What's his name?" I knelt in front of the desk, trying to get a glimpse of the elusive creature inside the terrarium.

"With a lack of creativity, I just call him Sammy. Those I got him from called him something so ridiculous I don't even remember it."

Behind a lichen-covered stick, I could see two round eyes staring back at me. How strange that this salamander shared my detested nickname.

"This will be an extra-credit project. Your parents are not allowed to help you. He will be your responsibility. Don't worry, I will leave written instructions, for you.

"If he has been given care that I deem to be at least satisfactory by the time I am recovered, I'm willing to forget your past test grades." He tapped the test packet, the D glaring back at me with angry red eyes.

I shuddered and gripped the handle of the terrarium. This would be an easy A.

"Should I take him today?"

Doctor Christian nodded. "Yes, I'll be having the surgery tomorrow, so it would be best. Here are your instructions. He slid a packet of papers out of his desk drawer that horrifyingly reminded me of another test packet.

"I won't let you down," I promised, "I'll take good care of Sammy!"

I ran for the door. If I hurried, I could make it before Miss Clark started the day's improv game.

"Miss Smith, are you forgetting something?"

Slowly, I turned around to see Doctor Christian holding out a bright green hall pass for me. As an afterthought, I took the failed test with me too.

I wanted a chance to study before Mom found out what I'd done.