Being Brave | Hey | Zelink High School AU

my mistake (3)

03//22/19

... lol... hiiiii! i'm posting this because i'm happy that it's friday. this week was super hard for me so i figured i'd post this in celebration of the weekend. gosh. i'm tired.

please read the announcement up on my page if at all possible! then you won't be able to say you didn't know. i appreciate y'all so much.

please vote and comment! (not crazy long comment strings, though, please!) i worked long on this so i'd appreciate love. lol. but tbh though.

~Zel

~~~

As I make my way to my seat, I make a face at Malon from across the room. Mr. Ghirahim is throwing some kind of fit in the front of the class, and I'm not quite sure how he expects us to respond.

While he flails his arms about wildly, more and more students enter the room until the late bell rings. Once it does so, Mr. Ghirahim snaps to attention, slamming the door shut and making a dramatic show of dropping his arms to his sides.

Tapping me on the back lightly with her mechanical pencil, Midna mouths at me, "Here we go again." I laugh before turning back around, knowing full well that Mr. Ghirahim's theatrics have only just begun.

Rifling through my bag for my homework and a pen, I notice with a grin that everyone is either fully invested in watching our teacher making a fool of himself or dead set on ignoring him. Unlike Malon and most of my other classmates, I do my math in pen, which often leads me to trouble when I realize that I've made a mistake and run out of space on the page. Still, I prefer doing math with a pen, and I'm too stubborn to change my peculiar ways.

With an obviously fabricated clearing of his throat, Mr. Ghirahim raises his voice loudly, above all the other conversations going on right now, "Students! Young people, I'd like to demand your attention now, please!"

When his antics fail to capture the attention of our class, he huffs and rolls his eyes, "Students, don't make me start throwing the dry erase markers again."

That catches everyone's eyes and ears. The room goes dead silent.

Completely satisfied with himself, my teacher laughs to himself while beginning to write something on the whiteboard, "Take out your homework and then get started on the problems I'm putting up on the board, my lovelies." He's only just begun writing when he turns back around to face us so quickly that I'm pretty sure he just gave himself whiplash. "And if I see that any of you has cheated or copied answers from someone... Let's just say that you're toast."

Eyeing my worksheet, I find the three problems I'd copied off Malon guiltily. Flipping through my binder to my trig section, I begin to scribble down the rational equations Mr. Ghirahim's putting on the board before proceeding to zone out completely.

"Ms. Haiden," Mr. Ghirahim begins, "Your homework, please." He waits impatiently, one hand on his hip and the other extended expectantly at me. "I don't have all day."

Snapping out of my reverie, I fumble with the papers on my desk before handing him the worksheet. "I'm sorry, here." As Mr. Ghirahim moves on to the next person to collect their homework and I resituate myself, Link bursts through the door, looking slightly winded.

"And where might you have been, Mr. Finlay?" Mr. Ghirahim asks, his attention immediately being drawn to the late student. "The bell rang fifty years ago, and you have the nerve to come here late."

Raising a curious brow, I wonder where Link's been. He takes his seat a row down from me, his cobalt eyes intense as we make eye contact. "I'm sorry I'm late, Mr. Ghirahim. I had to speak with Mr. Rauru, and he's given me a note."