Growing Up Beside You [John Lennon/Beatles Fanfiction]

7. You could've fooled me!

Isn't English Literature supposed to be subjective? It's not like Science or Maths- there is no wrong or right answer with literary analysis. That's the beauty of it. You're free to make your own interpretations and let your creativity flow. So why in Christ's name had Mr Oliver thought it was acceptable to cross out Celia's thoughtful sentences? He'd written comments like "I disagree/not correct/too fragile." English teachers are supposed to teach their pupils how to defend and respect their opinion. Her blood boiled the more she thought about it.

Celia had written nothing of today's lesson except for the date and that was thirty minutes ago. Instead, she was reading over her essay for the fourth time with her writing book over the top of it as to not make it obvious to Mr Oliver that she wasn't paying attention. He was rambling on about Great Expectations, which she'd made the effort to read, despite it's 500 pages of pure tedium. Anyway, it was a total waste of time because now she had no interest in what Mr Oliver had to say about it, or anything he had to say for that matter.

"Miss Pooley, what do you think about that?"

He can shove that E-grade down his throat and then choke on it.

"Cecelia?"

He just couldn't stand the fact that Celia had written about the feminisation of men because it probably insulted him.

"MISS POOLEY?"

Celia looked up to find all eyes on her. Mr Oliver was peering at her from beneath his glasses which were now sitting on the bump of his beaky nose.

"Yes, Sir?" she answered.

"Are you paying attention?"

No.

"Yes, Sir."

Without tearing her gaze away from her teacher, she slowly nudged her essay underneath her book.

"Well then answer my question. Do you agree with what David here said about Drummle? Was he called a spider because he is believed to be superstitious or would you disagree?"

She shrugged and leaned back in her chair.

"Yes, whatever Peter said. Or did you want a different answer?"

Because that's what he really wanted, wasn't it? Someone to say exactly what he wanted to hear. Because people clearly weren't allowed to form their own opinions.

"Well not necessarily. It's whatever you think."

Ha! That's debatable.

"I don't think what I say matters to you, Sir. Or what anyone here has to say."

"Don't be silly, child," Mr Oliver scoffed. "Of course it matters."

Oh, alright, so he wanted to play like that then did he?

"Really, Sir? Only if we do give you a different perspective, it wouldn't be the right one. You'd find a way to manipulate the right answer out of us."

Manipulate. She shouldn't have used that word. She shouldn't have answered back at all.

"There are no right answers, Miss Pooley."

"Well, you could've fooled me, Sir!" she said, a little too enthusiastically tapping away at the comments on her essay which she no longer cared to hide.

John threw his head back and laughed.

"There's no stopping her, eh?" Pete said laughing away with John.

Mr Oliver shot them both a furious glance before walking over to Celia's desk.

"Miss Pooley, what has got into you this morning? You're being extremely impertinent."

Yes she was and she knew it. She was pushing it. And she would continue to push it until he heard what needed to be said. She'd be a voice for everybody, or so she told herself. Nobody would have the balls to speak up about his crappy teaching. Well, except for John but he was too busy sitting over there grinning like a Cheshire Cat. 

"Whenever someone gives you an answer you don't like the sound of, you don't bother asking why they thought it, you just move on to the next person until you find the answer you're looking for. We're made to feel like our answer isn't plausible, never mind justifiable."

Mr Oliver closed his eyes as he drew a big breath. It was almost like he was restraining himself from lashing out at her.

"That is certainly not my intention, Cecelia," he uttered, rather too calmly for someone who's patience was currently being tested. "I know you're upset with your essay, I was too, seeing as you're usually top of the class."

John rolled his eyes at that.

"You just didn't really seem to grasp what the text was about and that's why you received the mark you did. Perhaps next time you will listen to the comments made in class and make good use of them. You simply did not work hard enough at this one."

Not hard enough?! She had spent tiresome hours planning, writing and editing her work. She was bloody proud of it too!

"Well, Sir, I don't think you and your one-track mind worked hard enough marking it."

The words flew from her mouth before she had the chance to stop herself. That did it. Gasps and giggles of disbelief filled the room. Even John appeared a little shocked which was a rare sight.

Mr Oliver's nostrils were flaring now. No one had answered him back like that before, not even John who was notorious for back-chatting his teachers. The way Mr Oliver squinted when he glared at her reminded her of a pit-viper's slit-like pupils. She knew from the burning animosity forming in his eyes that her words had finally hit their mark.

******
How we feeling about Celia so far? More of Johnny Boy in the next chapter to come ♡  Hope you enjoyed it! xo