The Downside of Popularity

11|Surprise talk

Alina
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I ducked into Math class a little late and took my seat quickly.

Mr. Paul was just handing out quiz papers. He narrowed his eyes—mimicking Lord Voldermort's signature snake slits—tipped his chin upwards like he wanted to scold me before shaking his head and rolling his eyes, refusing to let me ruin his never pleasant mood any further.

I sighed in relief.

Wouldn't want to get into trouble with forever grouchy and grim-faced Mr. Paul. Especially now since my mood could be rated near irritated-overload. I swear Mr. Paul was so frustrated and angry with his dull and loveless life that he takes it out on us. The only time I've ever seen him wearing an honest smile—not those fake things he paraded around during pep rallies—was when we failed his endless pop quizzes.

Mr. Paul placed my quiz paper on my desk with a malicious sneer. I read the words written in bold on the top 'revision quiz on last year's topics'. At the bottom of the paper and in smaller font, the sentence 'this test makes up 10 percent of your Math aggregate this year was also typed in bold and I found myself releasing a small gasp and staring blankly at the first five questions which stared back at me in turn.

"I wish we could have Mr. Dave as our Math teacher this year..." Hailey Rowe complained from the front. Mr. Paul snorted.

"Instead of grumbling, how 'bout you save yourself some time and start working on your test Hailey."

Hailey let out a groan, sitting straight in her seat and flipping Mr. Paul a bird when he had his back to the class.

"Just so you know, the results of this test would make up about 3 percent of your math aggregate this semester."

"What? That's fucked up!!" J.B Matt shouted from the back of the class.

He had this bad habit of swearing out loud in between classes and getting a lot of teachers angry. I can assure you he's spent more time in detention and Principal Darian's office in one high school year than I have at my workplace. Which means a lot since; I had been working at Abuela Marcia's food shack for the past two and a half years. Speaking of which, my break from work would be ending tomorrow. Lizzy had done a fabulous job working for the both of us while I was away and I had a feeling she might need some form of compensation.

"Language J.B, we wouldn't want you going down to the Principal's office and miss such an important test now, would we?" I heard Mr. Paul croon.

"Actually, I'd prefer that. Does anyone know how to tackle any of these questions?"

"I doubt anyone even remembers any school related stuff after such a long holiday," Kylie said in that frog-like voice of hers.

I found myself snorting and rolling my eyes.

If anyone in this room should be complaining about this test, it should be people like J.B and Hailey and not Kylie. When it came to academics, she was one of the best students our school had. Brilliant, pretty and over confident on her abilities—somehow she managed to ace all her classes despite being in the popular circle for too long —Kylie was in no way scared of this test. She was just trying to brag and get some attention her way. As usual.