Smack!

ONE - notice

ONE - notice

Today was a good day because (1) I'd ran five miles this morning causing me to break my record by two and a half miles, (2) I'd perfected my wing eyeliner in both eyes with just one stroke; and (3) Timothy Burr finally returned my hi to him this morning as I'd passed him in the hall with a nod and a smile which totally took my breath away.

Needless to say, I was in a pretty good mood all morning which was surprisingly odd considering it was Monday. Like all good things though, it didn't last long. Mr. Tittles, my Calculus teacher who unfortunately wasn't blessed to have a dignified last name, announced a pop quiz as soon as he'd entered the classroom.

Everyone in class groaned in response like it was the end of the world.

"Don't worry," Mr. Tittles said in his deep nasal voice that everyone grew to hate, "it's just three numbers."

When I'd received the test sheet though, my eyes bulged from their sockets that I'd worried they might fell down on my desk, rolled towards floor, and disappeared through another dimension like what mostly happened to my pens.

I looked up and saw that Mr. Tittles had a smug looked on his face as he watched our horrified reaction to his test. He'd said that it was only three numbers. ONLY THREE NUMBERS. But the thing was every number on the test had a ten item problem each...which made his pop quiz thirty items in total!

Come to think of it, I shouldn't even be surprised. I mean, Mr. Tittles loved it whenever he saw us having a hard time on his quizzes or exams or anything related to his subject.

It brought him joys in life.

I rummaged inside my bag for a notebook, but came out empty handed. Shoot. I must've left it in my locker!

"Hey, Eddie."

I turned to the boy who was sitting beside me. Today, his dark brown hair was messier than usual. It always looked like it hadn't met a brush since the dawn of time. "Can I have a paper?"

He didn't respond, but I was pretty sure he'd heard me.

I leaned in closer beside him. "Please? I just need it for scratch."

He sighed like giving me a paper was a huge pain in the neck; however, he tore a piece from his notebook and passed it to me.

"Thanks!"

Thirty minutes later of brainstorming, brain cramp, pencil biting, and staring intently on my test sheet hoping that the answer would miraculously appeared there, I was stuck on number three, item number eight.

"5 more minutes," said Mr. Tittles which made all the fluids inside my body to panic. I looked up and saw him sitting on the teacher's table, head deep down on a book about compatibility signs.

How odd.

Usually when we were having quizzes or exams like this, Mr. Tittles would observe us like a hawk. He would walk around the room with his four-eyes watching for any signs and smell of cheating.

But now, he was so immersed on reading his book that he was completely oblivious to the rest of my classmates copying and exchanging their answers.

Biting my lip, I leaned in closer towards Eddie, arching my neck slightly to glance at his paper and then copied his answer on my own. I was doing the same thing on the last two numbers when he suddenly cocked his head sideward and caught me doing the feat.

He scowled at me and twisted on his seat to obstruct my view from his paper.

I frowned at him.

"Eddie c'mon," I whispered, reaching over to pinched him on his side.