"So if x equals 5, what does y equal?" Mr. Burden asked the class, I was silent.
I never really cared much for algebra. It wasn't going to help me raise my children or help me in my job as an artist. Or get married, sure there would be numbers involved, but no y=mx+b shit. What happened to basic math?
I worried about Mrs. Wred, I worried about my art class. I worried about art.
"How about you, Miss Gold?" I looked up to see Mr. Burden asked, with an evil smirk. Fuck him.
"I dunno." I mumbled, I could feel my face getting hot. He sighed,
"See, this is a PRIME example on why we're so far behind! You guys don't care for algebra. You don't care to participate, or to succeed!" Mr. Burden preached,
"You're right." I mumbled, I was pissed that he put me on the spot.
"Excuse me?" Mr. Burden looked back at me, glaring.
"I said, you're right. We don't care for algebra because it doesn't make any sense. We should be learning how to make a living, how to be successful. Going out into the real world knowing algebra isn't going to make us become rich and successful, unless we become people who use this pointless shit in their jobs." I challenged him, try to put me on the spot again. He raised an eyebrow,
I knew we would have a discussion after class.
YOU ARE READING
The Substitute
Teen FictionHe's beautiful, a young male in his 20s, tall, slender but with strong, working arms. Face bearded with a matching head of thick, straight brown hair. His pale skin almost reflected light from the sun. He's beautiful. The only problem is that I'm 16...
