Book 1: Awakening (The VIth Element Series)

Chapter 2: Alex

When I opened the classroom door, the 'tangoed' face of Jessica Wademen greeted me.

Ah hell!

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat finally decided to drag in?" Jessica sneered unpleasantly, eyeing up my old skirt. Some of the seams had come undone. As for my blazer, it had collected an assortment of holes over time. All heads turned in my direction. I blushed. Clearly, I hadn't been praying hard enough. "I'm surprised she even has the gall to show her face today wearing that!" Jessica continued, pointing at my slowly crumbling school uniform with a horrified expression on her face. "I mean, surely if her father works as a top bank manager, he should be able to provide a decent income for the family, which could be spent on clothes?" She leered at me, laughing spitefully. "But then, silly me, I forgot that he hasn't provided for the family for ages, since he was made redundant. These are such sad times."

At hearing this comment, all her girlfriends roared with laughter (who were also as equally orange and plastered in make-up) as well as a group of boys, who had gathered around Jessica and were practically salivating over her painfully low-cut top. I tripped over my shoes in embarrassment, anger rising within the pit of my stomach at Jessica's cutting remarks and her friends' amusement, which caused even more raucous laughter. Boy did she fit the definition of a 'cow'. Earlier on in the month, my father had received an unexpected letter from the bank he worked at, saying that his: "input was no longer required." This news had naturally come as a shock to the whole family and, whilst we had all pulled together to support my father, our support did nothing to take away the impending knowledge that life as we knew it was going to change. After finally accepting the matter, until my father was able to find another career, my mother had adopted other jobs on top of her previous profession, which had proved to just about ensure our survival. The money she made went on necessary resources and no extras (this list included new clothes). However, since we lived in a small town, this news had travelled fast. Although most people did their best to offer support, individuals like Jessica Wademen relished in our unfortunate circumstances.

Just before she could say anything else unpleasant, my Science teacher hurried into the room, in a bustle of irritation and frustration. Instantly, the laughter stopped and people rushed to their correct places. There were some teachers, you learnt, that you should never cross. Mr Nash was one of them. Clenching my fists, I took my place at the back of the classroom, away from everyone, so I could hide my blistering face and allow my inward anger to deflate. I did my best to focus on him instead of the orange form that sat to my near left.

"Good morning class." Mr Nash rasped, as he tried to catch his breath. I noticed how his thin, grey hair was matted with sweat and his beady, black eyes began to dart around each face. A resounding monotonous: "Good morning Mr Nash" met his initial comment. Satisfied with this response and the fact that he had stopped wheezing, Mr Nash continued. "Now...today's task involves the interesting dissection of an Apodemus Sylvaticus, or otherwise more commonly known as a wood mouse –" Before Mr Nash could carry on, he was immediately cut off by an extremely loud groan delivered by Martin, one of the boys nearest to me. A vein in Mr Nash's temple throbbed. "Is there something the matter Mr Crane?" Mr Nash asked Martin, who had suddenly gone incredibly pale.

"N...no sir." Martin stammered, which was met with muffled sniggers from the rest of the class, as he swallowed rapidly, trying to focus.

As a result of this unsatisfying answer, Mr Nash narrowed his eyebrows.

"I should hope not!" He snapped, before he continued with his speech, now moving his glower onto the remainder of the class. "As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted (he glared once again at Martin) we're going to dissect wood mice in today's lesson. Then," he continued, "after you've finished, I expect you to write down all the different parts of their anatomy and make sure that you do it neatly." After delivering this emphasised comment, Mr Nash paused once again to glare, this time, at Thomas, who was known, amongst all the teachers for his appallingly, illegible handwriting. Thomas swallowed, blushing in embarrassment. Subsequently, contented that he had succeeded in intimidating as many students as possible, Mr Nash finalised his speech. "And so, with that final word of warning, all of you hop to it. You know where the equipment is and, when everyone's ready and I'm happy for you to begin, I'll start handing out the dead mice."