Winter

Chapter two

I spun around my street corner, struggling to keep my bag on my back.  My  feet hit the ground with solid beats, creating a rhythm of which I kept pace.  I’d slept in and then spent too long in the shower, and as my reward a bruise was sprouting on my back where by books were slamming into me repeatedly.  The school was in view, and though my lungs were getting tired and my legs were uncomfortably sore, I carried on.  I skidded into the schoolyard panting, walking up the school’s steps and regaining my breath on one of the two pillars located outside the school’s door.

Desert Brooke Prep was my city’s only educational facility.  It was right across the street from city hall, and had a huge schoolyard.  In a way, the school was scary, for it had rows upon rows of empty classrooms.  Though there are only nine children now, the school was built to be the learning center of the next several generations, large enough to fit an elementary, middle, and high school in one building.  Each ‘school’ was sectioned off in a different wing, and even though we stayed in one wing, the vast emptiness of the building was still easily felt.  

After my breath had returned to me I entered through large iron doors.  Immediately I turned right, down to my algebra classroom.  I shared the class with Emily and Briant, and we were taught by the most god-awful crow that ever walked on Winter, Mrs. Treiton.  She was the typical image of the worst teacher ever, with a beak-like nose, a boney body, and wrinkles everywhere.  Her grey hair displayed that she was ancient, and her ever present frown made even the most optimistic students feel dreary.  She was the designated math teacher, but I personally thought that she’d have a better career in the history department--after all, she had lived through all of it.

Still, I marched into class with a large grin on my face, just to make her angry.  Emily and Mark were chatting in the corner, smiling sweetnesses to each other.

“April.  Would you mind telling the class why you were late?  You are hindering our lesson,”  Mrs. Treiton ’s voice was as heinous as she was.  

“If we wasted time taking about why I was late, wouldn’t that slow the class even more?” I countered, showing the old bat no respect.  

For all my other teachers I was perfect.  I did my homework, I smiled through everything, and I got the best of grades.  In this class, however, I went out of my way to be an abomination.  I talked back, I spoke at a volume either too loud or too quiet, I pointed out flaws and I constantly debated about how pointless algebra was on this planet.  My personal favorite way of irritating our math teacher, however, was only doing half my homework.  Exactly half my homework.  I’d count out the problems every day, and do exactly half.  If there was an odd amount of numbers, I’d do exactly half of the last math problem, just to show i’d looked but gone out of my way to not answer.  In fact, I’m positive I go out of my way to make Mrs. Treiton  angry, and put more work into that than to actual class time.  Of course, I still get A’s on the quizzes and tests, so she can’t touch me. 

“You are a disgrace, Mrs. Tangella,” She cawed.  

“As are you, Mrs. Treiton.”

She brushed off my insult and called out for homework.  As always, I did only half.  As always, Briant didn’t turn it in.  Unlike normal, Emily had no work to give.

“Emily?” Mrs. Treiton  called out, “Emily, you didn’t do your homework?”

“No, I’m sorry Mrs. Treiton,” Emily’s voice was quiet and her wide eyes were downcast.  I had to admit, I was shocked as well.

“Well, I must say!  You are my star student, Emily!  How could you not do your homework?  Are you going downhill?  Why would you do this, Emily?  Do you need to be sent to the principal?” She went on and on, like a cold gust of wind that just kept nipping at your warmed skin, turning you colder and colder.  Emily was visibly full of guilt, staring at the ground and shrinking at every question tossed at her.