knees

2. the boy

Still the first day

It’s very much like Courtney to write an essay that has 3/10 sentences that is related to the topic. At first, she wrote an explanation of why Hamlet told Horatio that he’s dead but he isn’t. Those sentences include:

1.      Hamlet was a really peculiar man, so that basically sums it up.

2.      But he was going to die actually.

3.      That makes him a psychic and Horatio his sidekick.

Oh, Courtney was smart, alright. She just doesn’t like doing essays and research papers—probably because of the things that run in her mind and the fact that she may have short term memory loss. Although having that, she remembers all the irrelevant things when not needed and suddenly the relevant thing jolt back at the wrong time.

(The bell rang which caused her to frantically rush the paper she had yet to finish. Courtney muttered, “Why is it always me?”, but then she realized that she’d rather have it that way than never having it to be her.)

As she signed her name on her sloppily written paper, she received a text from the infamous Danny, certified nerd and somewhat not at the bottom of the food chain.

Danny: distract mr. salvador for me will you? going to danny-fy in front of a new student i found. better make it interesting, thanks court!

Courtney sighed and pocketed her phone, which was banned from the school premises, in utter defeat. It’s not like it’s the first time that she’d diverted Mr. Salvador’s attention to someplace else.

Mr. Salvador, 46 and restless, entered the room with his permanent scowl drawn across his face. He began his daily routine on checking if the blackboard ledge was spotless, rubbing his hands excessively with a pail of sanitary alcohol and apologizing that he was very OCD. It may seem that this was Mr. Salvador’s weakness, his OCD, but it actually wasn’t. He had no known weakness.

“So, class,” he started in a semi-cough. “Pass the Hamlet write-up in an orderly manner. Take note that if I catch you forging, plagiarizing or any illegal acts, I will throw you out of the classroom.”

Courtney took a deep breath, shot her hand up high and stood up, wearing that sorry-I’m-clueless-about-everything-and-everyone smile. “Um, Mr. Salvador? I have a small question I’d like to ask you today,” she announced.

“And like every other day,” the teacher muttered. “Get on with it, Ms. Stalls. I don’t have all period,”

Courtney thought about the most time-costly question that she could ask without sounding stupid. “What has Horatio’s fatal flaw? And why does Hamlet have to be the only that has it. I propose that everyone should have one since we promote equality among all races.” she asked.

Mr. Salvador blinked. Hard.

She smirked slyly. Got it.

 ❄❄❄

Somewhere in the campus, the soon-to-be dramatic duo, Danny and Flynn, are currently climbing the tree that branches over to the windows of Mr. Salvador’s class. The tree was tall, shady and twisted at some parts. It’s been there as long as the school has been standing—probably even longer.

Flynn gulped as Danny tightened straps of his backpack. “Are you sure this is safe? No major head injuries or possible eternal comatose cases?” he fidgeted nervously. Flynn wasn’t the type that looks for adventure; he just faces them when he needed to prove something.