The Bucket List (Currently On-Hold)

The Bucket List - Chapter Three

Chapter Three:

I stared impatiently at my watch; anticipating for the final school bell to ring. Glancing at my classmates, it's pretty clear that I am not the only anticipating for it. 

Mike, my blond headed guy classmate slid his summer special magazine under the Trigonometry book we're using as a reference. Martha, taps her foot under her desk in a lively rhythm. Clark, our trusty nerd adjusted his glasses and stared at the mini-solar system drawn at the black board. Many seemed bored, but most of them seemed to be really eager and excited for vacation to start. 

The other reason why we've been anticipating for the school bell to ring is that, the next time we meet each other, we'd be wearing our graduation caps and receiving our long-awaited diploma proclaiming to the world that we've endured all 16 years or so of studying. 

By the look on our teacher, who's blatantly rambling about both Shakespeare and Pythagoras, tells me that she's not the type of person who enjoys summer. In fact, if I hadn't known any much better, I might have thought this is just a typical day at school with nothing to anticipate or to be excited about. 

"Liz," Courtney leaned in and whispered at me, "We'll be going to the University Cafe, wanna come?" 

I shook my head. I do, actually. But I can't. "I have to clean my room, remember?" 

She nodded and went back to her doodles. I rolled my eyes at her. Courtney has that tendency to be really forgetful especially when it comes to our daily household chores. Considering that I've always took full force on making our little apartment both pleasant and desirable. She spent her time working to provide what we would need. 

She's not the only one with work, though. Like literally, work job. I do too, at the University Cafe, that's why I always seem to have my eyes open without a struggle and cooled temper at times. Coffees and teas make me relax and less sleepy, but this time lately, I've been having a pretty bad case of insomnia. 

I bit my lower lip and looked expectantly at our teacher who is still babbling and rambling. She seems oblivious of our concerns at the moment. At one point, I'd heard murmuring of two people asking each other's advice of what hair color would look good. No doubt, that would be the cheerleaders. And at some point, I'd hear someone yawn. I felt sleepy too, I yawned. 

I slid out a picture out of my book and stared at it happily. After this day, after graduation, Gab and I will be spending the whole vacation for our Bucket List. That's the primary reason why I'd take the job when offered in the first place. 

I've been working for almost my whole college life. And as far as I could tell, I've save myself a fortune by putting aside my pay check and saving every penny I could from the money my Mom and Dad is sending me for college. And as far as I could notice, they seem to be oblivious about my savings too. 

I plan to fly Gab and myself to Paris this summer. Roam around, discover, learn even if it's summer, and the sole prior, visit the Eiffel Tower. 

Gab fascinates Eiffel Tower. For some particular reason, I do too. I'm only a Junior when Eiffel Tower was presented to me. It was our History teacher who made me see the true beauty in it. And I swear, from that day onwards, I've always fancied the landmark. 

The school bell rang and instantly snapping me back to reality. Half of the class has already bolting to the door meanwhile the other half has just woken up. I felt myself smile with this never ending routine of our class. 

I noticed our teacher was still there at the front of the classroom, gathering and collecting her things neatly. No student even bothered to say good bye to her or at least give her a parting words of Have a happy summer. 

For a long time of teaching us, not one of us knows her name because she refused to tell us. For a few times I'd see her in the University Cafe talking to herself or burying herself with books. Some of my co-workers tell she's a mad-man. Though, how could a mad-man teach at a High Standard school? My curiosity arouses a lot of questions about her. But only a few was countered with an answer. 

I stood up from my stool and swung my bag in my back. I smiled as I approach her. She seems preoccupied with her own thoughts. It makes me wonder what she's thinking. Could she be, like the rest of us, anticipating for the summer? Is she having some sort of plan for this whole summer? Or is she just simply thinking, or rather wondering, why no one even bothered to look back in the same classroom again knowing that this will be the last chance to look at it? 

Preoccupied by my own thoughts, I didn't notice Courtney was still in the class room and asking me something. 

"Liz, are you even listening to me?" She asked. 

I stared at her, "Sorry, no. What were you saying again?" 

She sighed and scribbled something at my crazy notes. "I'd be home late" it said and with a wink, a handful of girls appeared next to her. 

I nodded. "Yeah, sure. But aren't you going to say anything to Miss?" I asked, for some reason I wished they'd say something to our teacher who'd been patiently trying to teach us without any complaint. And for some reason, I felt guilty. 

Why am I asking other people to do something if I could just to do it myself? Without hesitation, I walked to our teacher and smiled at her. For a brief second I thought she's ignore me, but my smile is rewarded with another heart warming smile from her. 

"I'd want to say thanks," I say and then I sighed a small laugh, "Thanks, Miss. For having patience for us. You have no idea how much it means to me, to all of us." 

Her smiled grew and the next thing I know. I'm hugging her.

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