The Classroom

Audrey

Mason left me with a kiss. His cologne lingered. I loved his cologne. I loved his button up shirts. His cargo shorts, and his good boy attitude. I loved his long dirty blond hair. He was gonna be late. For me. We'd been dating for two years. Longer than Decker and McCartney who had only been "Not dating" for the last year. Mason was so sweet to me. He was better than Emo Jeremiah. We dated for two months, and between the Screamo and the eyeliner, I couldn't handle him. He was funny at first. We had an inside joke about him being an Emo Mexican Ninja. But then he got kind of depressing. He tried to kill himself. I stayed with him until he got out of the hospital. But after that I broke things off with him.

"Students! Listen up,"

That was Thanson. He was weird. Class was starting. We were all still inside of the table fort. I'm surprised he hasn't noticed the fort.

"When did you guys build that?"

He noticed the fort.

Decker, the buzzkill, and the teacher's pet, as always, said, "I told them not to, sir."

"Shut up Decker. Wait, Decker, why are you in my class? I requested specifically for you not be here!"

"I figured that would happen sir, so I transferred."

Mr. Thanson sighed, and walked to our table-fort. He knocked on the table-drawbridge.

"Can I come in?"

Chase, quick-witted as ever said, "Sure, if you can guess the password sir."

"Okay. Cats."

"Nope."

"Wart cream."

Chase, made a face, "Nope, sorry sir."

"Dead cats."

Chase made another face. "No, sir."

"Bag of dead cats under Mr. Thanson's desk?"

"Why would that be the password, Mr.Thanson?"

"I don't know. I'm just naming things at my desk."

I asked, "That's a bag of dead cats?"

"No." Mr. Thanson steps in front of the bag to block its view.

Jeremiah interrupts, "Smells like dead cats."

Then McCartney asked, "How do you know what dead cats smell like?"

"You don't know what I'm into. Look, Don't ask me questions and I won't haunt your nightmares. Deal?" Jeremiah glared at McCartney with fire in his eyes.

McCartney rolled her eyes, but turned around and looked mortified.

"Guys, look, just put the tables back."

Chase said, "You got it sir."

We started working and I asked Chase what the password was.

"That's for me to know and you to, well, not know."

He smiled, and went back to moving tables.

I'm glad I knew Chase. He's like my best friend. I've known him since the third grade when Decker stole my backpack, Chase picked him up, threw him on the ground, and handed me my backpack. Every day since then, we'd have each other's back. I thought he was gay. I was wrong. But that's another story.