The Afternoon tea club: 2014 #WATTYS2014

ICAS and the Jamaican Mafia

@ShellytheFairy’s POV

“Okay girls, you may begin your test.”

I hear the rustling of papers as everyone begins the Australian ICAS exam. Not me, because I’m just unconventional like that. I just sit back and pull out my pocket watch necklace thingy to check the time. It was still 9:00am, about 9 seconds into the exam.  I sigh and warily eye the A4 monster and decide to at least tackle the first question.

Here is a picture of a pyramid. How many sides are blue if two are red?

I look up and try to convey my misery to my friends from across the room, but all their heads were bent and I swear if I squinted, they were glowing with happiness. Literally glowing.

I fill in C, because everyone knows it’s always C.

I go about in this manner for ten questions. The next ten I guessed people’s blood types and somehow translated them into the little bubbles. How anyone showed up D positive is a mystery. The next ten after that, I creepily stared at people whose names started with A-D, and if they looked up, it was just meant to be. The last twenty, I honestly couldn’t be bothered to think up of more tactics, so I just flipped my pencil and decided if the red or black meant anything special.

After all that hard work, I sit back and check my awesome pocket watch necklace thing again, and nearly snort. It was 9:06am. That meant I still had a good 55 minutes to do as I pleased. So naturally, as any self-respecting teenager would do, I plonked my head on the table and began to scooch over to the nearest ray of sunlight to have a nice nap.

I would have succeeded if the seat next to me wasn’t suddenly occupied by the Mrs. Chauncy, the teacher on duty. I sit up straight. She was blocking my sunlight.

She clears her throat.

Oh God.

“Shelly,” She begins, “Why aren’t you doing the test? This class isn’t for falling asleep.”

Uh, yes it was. Keep up, woman.

“Because I’ve finished,” I grumble, putting on my best Will-You-Go-Away-So-I-Can-Get-Some-Much-Needed-Sleep face. She was immune, of course.

She glances at my test paper, and her eyes widen in fear at all the little bubbles. They weren’t that bad, were they?

“You do realize your lack of participation in this test will lower the school’s academic score?”

Yup. Do I care? Nope. Pop the P if you must.

She tries another tactic.

“I know you’re not trying in other subjects too, like History and Japanese.”

I blink. How could she know about those times? You see, dear reader, these two separate incidents are when I have got my iPad confiscated twice in one day for playing apps such as Bubble Witch, My Singing Monsters, and Wattpad. I get why it was confiscated, but seriously. How does she know about that?

Think about it.

All teachers are part of the Jamaican Mafia, and I am in line for the throne to rule over them all.

Or they seriously need to invest in a pack of icebreaker question cards.

“Shelly, do you really enjoy any subjects? Any at all?”

“Do you even have the motivation to work in school?”

“Why don’t you work harder?”

I stay silent. We are in an exam, after all.

She finally leaves, and I begin to doodle on the paper. I don’t know if I’m motivated. I like school, bet when is anything going to be useful? I could be good at math, but for now, that’s just not me. I like being the class clown and making the teachers rip out their hair.

The Mrs. Chauncy swaps shifts with Mrs. Bradley, the history teacher, and they curl up in a corner like little spiders and talk loudly behind their hands. I ignore them and rest my head on the desk once more, having found my little beam of sunlight.

Knowing me, I’ll get a high distinction and get to laugh at the horror on all my friend’s faces when they realize I reign supreme as a mathematician and a leader of the Jamaican Mafia. There’s something to look forward to.