Of A Forgotten Storm (Under Editing)

The Chemistry substitute

Immediately after my foot touched the floor of our new classroom, the chorus of cheers erupted, and confetti was thrown in the air. Let’s just say I wasn’t surprised; I had already seen faces with hidden agendas behind their congratulations.

"Congratulations!" they yelled in unison, a class of over thirty students. Gosh, I was flattered. As I took in the faces around me, I noted that there would be a payday for those who hadn’t participated. Fortunately, only a few faces, like Alex and her group of three girls, were missing.

"Congrats, bestie!" Ahsad said, dragging me to the seat he had chosen for me—the third seat right next to the window with a view of the school grounds.

"It must be great to have everyone’s attention on you, Noor," he added.

"Not exactly. It’s just that the school hasn’t quite gotten over it yet." I turned to the rest of the class to express my gratitude. While some cracked jokes and made fun of each other, I sat down, put my earpiece in, and got lost in the music.

The first period began with chemistry, and Mrs. Naomi, who was heavily pregnant, was teaching. She could barely stand for twenty minutes, and I wondered why she hadn’t taken her antenatal leave yet.

She talked about Alkanoic Acids, briefly explaining the subtopics. It became increasingly boring. Between the first day of school and the first period, I couldn’t decide which was more tedious. Half the class was doing their own thing, more excited about meeting friends than listening to Mrs. Naomi talk about acids and her exhaustion. I was among those secretly playing games as the period dragged on.

The second and third periods rolled by similarly; I don’t think we learned much today. It seemed like everyone was more focused on me than on their own business. That’s the problem with my spotlight—I love it as much as I hate it. It’s getting on my nerves. Now, if I misbehave, they’ll have even more to say about me.

Finally, when the lunch break bell rang, the class emptied, leaving Mr. Uche by himself. There was no such thing as overtime; even Mr. Uche had to comply. The man didn’t mind using the entire break period to over-explain his topic. Though he mostly wasted our time reminiscing about his school days, I wondered what exactly didn’t happen during Mr. Uche’s time.

Goodness, the way teachers tell exaggerated stories of their perfect school days and good grades, you’d think they never made mistakes. It was ironic.

I believe if Mr. Uche and a few others like him are still teaching at Pinnacle, they must be real talents. Or no one has reported them for their lengthy story times during lesson hours. The man would fit right in at one of those government schools.

"Have a nice day, Sir," I said as I exited the classroom. If only he would do me the favor of riding the elevator with him again. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen, so I left.

With a tight frown on my face, I entered the dining hall, which was pretty crowded with students from different classes. One of the many good things about this school is the food. My nostrils were greeted with the appetizing aroma of various dishes.

I sighed as I looked for a place to sit and order my food, feeling some gazes on me. I brushed it off and walked around majestically, as I always do. There goes my popularity.

"Isn’t she the same cunning witch from the hostel back then?" I heard someone behind me mumble to their companion. If only they knew how sharp my hearing was; I bet they wouldn’t be talking about me so close by.

"Of course, she is. The school keeps making her popular, overlooking her bullying. I hate her. Thank God she left the hostel; otherwise, today would have been one heck of a crazy day." Just before I moved away, the other person spoke, even hissing at the end.