Pull Yourself Together

Alex I

"Qui n'avance pas, recule." In life, remaining stagnant is the same as devolution. A concept that Mr. Coswell clearly does not understand. We've been covering the Copper Age for longer than it took for me to learn C++ when I was twelve.

Mr. Coswell's mumbling something about some essay that I've already finished so I take a moment to appreciate his apparel: brown shoes, brown pants, and a jacket that he must have taken from his senile grandmother's closet. Classy.

The whiteboard is all smudged with his cramped handwriting. Even his letters look antique. I resort to counting ceiling tiles to tune out Mr. Coswell's droning lecture.

Most of the squares are painted over with digits of pi. Some idiot must have thought it would be funny to cover the history classroom ceiling in math (some idiot who thinks that four is the number that comes after the decimal).

Brandon's scribbling something on paper three rows back, and it doesn't look like notes for an essay on Western Asia. His walnut-brown hair is a mess. It's sticking out every which way like he rubbed a balloon against it. Does he know what a comb is?

And...I've got it. There are 918 ceiling tiles in one Summit High School classroom.

"Noah!" The kid on my left jumps up from his book, sending his glasses slightly askew. "Tell me, what is the required length for your essay?" Mr. Coswell has his hands clasped behind his back like he's a lawyer in court. He's wearing a smug, self-satisfied expression. It doesn't go well with his outfit.

Noah's stuttering and his face is turning red. I almost feel bad for the kid—Mr. Coswell's ruthless.

"If you'd stop reading Twilight in class you might actually learn something other than what brand of toothpaste Edward uses."

Noah's shrinking back into his chair. Everyone's leaning forward in anticipation. The silence is a loaded shotgun—Mr. Coswell is tapping his Oxfords on the linoleum, waiting for an answer.

Brandon pulls the trigger: "Sir, the book is about more than just Edwards toothpaste. It's about accepting and loving people for who they are, which is something that you clearly don't understand, Mr. Coswell. Do you even have the ability to love someone?"

I've got to give it to him. He's got guts.