Emmeline sat at an extremely plain desk next to a very plain boy, listening to a comparatively plain lecture which was given by a relatively plain Air Service official instructor.
He was just repeating everything that Emmeline had just answered in the test, which was extremely annoying, especially because the red and pimply young man who was sitting next to her was studiously taking notes.
And that left no room for Emmeline to have any fun at all.
She sighed quietly, trying to seem inconspicuous about it. The instructor ranted on and on, his tirade going on forever.
Emmeline started humming to herself, losing herself in the music. She’d always loved singing, thinking of it (along with books) as a way to escape from the horrid world she lived in. Through both music and words, she could create a completely different world, which was always void of unpleasant comments, sugar-coated insults, and arranged marriages.
Emmeline smiled a little to herself as she traced the cherry-colored grain of the desk. She actually had escaped from that world. Now she was living a life that was all her own. And she loved it.
“What is your name, young man?” a voice suddenly called, seeming unusually loud and angry.
Emmeline looked up and around the room, searching for the poor bloke who was about to get the scolding of a lifetime.
And then, with a start, she realized that everyone was staring straight at her.
She gazed warily in the direction of the instructor, and examined the dirty glare he’d fixed her with.
“Well?” he demanded, taking a step closer to her and narrowing his eyes even more. He had a talent for glowering; that was obvious enough.
She cleared her throat, trying to sound like a boy. “Sorry, sir. My name is Emmet Pyne.”
“Emmet…” he said slowly, walking towards her with his hands clasped behind his back. “Pyne…”
“Yes, sir. That’s me.” Emmeline said dutifully, masking her annoyance well. She hated people who talked slowly for emphasis.
“Did you hear any of what I just said?” the instructor asked, leaning down towards her, seeming to think proximity would daunt her.
Emmeline smiled mischievously, her mind reeling for a way to get herself out of trouble.
She figured that she was busted, probably with no way out of it, so she privately accepted that she was going to have to run three miles or sweep, mop, and scrub the floor all day. Or something else mildly embarrassing.
But she gave the man a sort of clever-looking smile. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t really listening, sir,” she apologized, standing up and sort of bowing her head respectfully. She was trying to show him with her body language that she was both repentant and submissive.
Men spoke mostly in guttural grunts, groans, moans, and farts, so he should definitely have understood a bowing of the head and a lowering of the eyes, right?
She chanced a tiny glance up, sending a puff of air from her mouth to move her unruly hair out of her eyes.
The flight instructor seemed pleased that she was supposedly intimidated by him.
YOU ARE READING
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Teen Fiction"There was not a thing in the world that could keep Emmeline Pyne from living her dream." Emmeline Pyne is a seventeen-year-old young lady of society. But no matter how sweet her smile may be, that's only to keep up appearances. Her rebellious and p...
