Reckless - Chapter Eight

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I’m so sorry I haven’t uploaded for ages. I guess I say that at the start of every chapter I post. But, hey, I mean it. It’s finally the summer so I’m hoping to upload more soon! (yn) Remember: I always love some votes, comments and feedback from you – because I’m generic like that.


R E C K L E S S . . . 


CHAPTER EIGHT-

As I looked around the English classroom I noticed that everyone – including the teacher – was staring at me. I guessed it was probably due to the way I had entered the room: stumbling into the room when Sam had pushed me forcefully through the doorway.

I took special care to glower at everyone in the room as I walked slowly and steadily to the back of the classroom to take my seat.

The teacher seemed to gather himself and proceeded with the lesson. “So, class, today we’re going to be continuing with our studies of ‘Much Ado About Nothing’.”

Big surprise, I thought. We’d been studying the play since the start of the term when he had replaced our old teacher, a balding man with bottle cap glasses who would always fall asleep in the middle of lessons and never teach us anything, which suited me just fine.

“Since it’s a double English lesson today,” the teacher continued, “I’ve decided that we’re going to watch one of the film adaptations of the play and analyse the way in which they portray the story and the effect it has on the audience compared to the theatre versions.”

I immediately felt happier at this. Watching a film in a lesson was a sure way of doing nothing. All around me people were high fiving and grinning broadly, seeming to have come to the same conclusion as me.

An austere look came onto the teacher’s face as he took in the class’s reaction. “This isn’t a lesson for relaxing; I’m expecting you all to make notes.” There was a collective groaning as everyone in the class except for me opened their workbooks and rummaged around for pens.

Instead I started preparing myself for two hours of doing absolutely nothing: I leant back in my chair and stretched my long legs in front of me, propping my feet up comfortably on the desk. As soon as the lights were flicked off I closed my eyes blissfully, happy to have finally found some relaxation that day.

All too soon, though, the lesson was over and I found my eyes flickering open to the sight of a very annoyed looking teacher. My head shot up and I dazedly surveyed the empty English classroom, everyone had obviously left the lesson a long time ago.

The teacher raised an eyebrow at my confused, half awake state. “Do you want to explain yourself, Miss. Forbes?”

“Not particularly,” I said through my massive yawn.

“That wasn’t a question that you don’t have to answer. I expect an explanation as to why you fell asleep in the middle of my lesson,” he snapped.

“If I fell asleep in your lesson why didn’t you wake me up?” I countered angrily.

He rested his hands on my desk and leant forward till his face was close to mine. I found myself examining his face as he glared at me. He was young for a teacher, maybe this was his first teaching job, but it was nice to be yelled at someone who didn’t have a million wrinkles creasing their face or greying hair which fell out constantly while you were near them or really bad breath that only old people seemed to have. The teacher had short, chestnut coloured hair and smooth, tanned skin. Surprisingly, I could see a faint hole in his left ear where he must’ve had a piercing when he was younger. I would’ve imagined him to be a nice person if I had just seen him, but right now his mouth was set in an unattractive frown. “Why did you fall asleep in my lesson?” he demanded again.

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