Blurry Vision

part 1

Districts were successful. Productive. Competitive. Your district was the best, or it was nothing. No distractions,  each one stricter than the rest. Each district was unique, each person was not. 

So Andres dyed his hair purple. 

He wandered in late, as usual, and leaned back as far as he could in his metal chair. Looking up cheekily at the teacher and sticking his well calloused hand out to be hit for punishment.  This time Miss Montgomery did not hit him, she clacked over, set a test down in front of him, and walked back to her desk.  Andres did not bat an eye, but snatched his hand back, and leaned, if possible, even further back in his chair. Miss Montgomery picked up her pointer from the desk and marched back. A few heads turned, including mine, but many were too scared to. 

"What happened to your head?" She demanded, wielding her pointer like a weapon. 

"What the bruise? Hit my head against the wall several times when I remembered I had to see you today." 

Whack.

"Shall I phrase it this way? what happened to your hair?" 

"Well, it used to be brown, but now it's not." 

Whack. I dare not laugh at that, for if I would a scolding would most definitely be in store. 

"You can mark my words: to the principal's office with you as soon as you are finished with your test." 

Silence falls once more. Nothing but the persistent ticking of the clock. I began to grow uncomfortable, Miss Montgomery's eyes stared hawklike at Andres, and since I sat but a few seats in front of him, I felt as if the eyes would find me as well. 

Tick. Tick. Tick. He takes agonizingly slow.

Tick. Tick. Tick. I shift in my seat. 

Tick. Tick. Tick. The rest of the class has finished, and Miss Montgomery has taken to pacing our row. I feel her eyes pierce me every time she passes. 

Class has now gone 15 minutes over time, our small mid-day break is shrinking by the second. Still Miss Montgomery refuses to dismiss us. 

"I'm finished." he announces, and with that he holds up his paper. however I notice that the bubble sheet looks nothing like mine; He's drawn a big letter 'a' using the bubbles! 

People lean over, and crane their necks, my eyes stay locked on Miss Montgomery, an explosion waiting to happen. The ticking of the clock transforms into the ticking of a bomb. 

Andres looks ever so pleased with himself as Miss Montgomery's face grows redder, and redder.  I envy the other classes who are all outside eating lunch, I envy all who don't have a determined troublemaker like Andres in their class. 

"Elo!" my stomach plummets. 

"yes?" I say. my voice sounds quivery and squeaky, the echo of my name being yelled still rings while my hesitant reply dissolves. 

"take him to the principal's office!" 

I want to ask why she doesn't do it herself. 

But I don't dare.