After School with Mr. Obnoxious

Chapter 2

As we walked to our next class, we had amused ourselves by giving making fun of every student we met on the way, our hilarious daily ritual before entering Mrs. Seymour's class—AP Literature.

"Remind me why did you take this class again?" Zack asked.

"Because I think it's a cool class." I sounded so casual and cool that they thought it wouldn't bother me if I failed the class. The truth was that I needed the extra credit.

They went to their boring classes, and I went to mine. Mrs. Seymour was already behind her desk, nose stuck in a book that we were probably going to discuss for the next two weeks. Slumped in my chair in front, I listened to the giggles followed by shy 'hellos' from every student that had entered the room. I ignored them and concentrated on the plan I had started to create in my head for the team's practice later that day.

Mrs. Seymour promptly started the class and introduced to us the book she was reading earlier. In the next two weeks, we would be discussing an English woman named Jane Austen and her works. While Mrs. Seymour drowned the class with her monotonous voice and Jane's works, I was concentrating on more important things, like our team's ranking in the division. If only Jasper and Zack were as good as me, or if only everyone in the team could play as good as me, we would definitely bring home the bacon to Lediville High.

My stomach was already ready for lunch by the time the class was over. I grabbed my backpack when I heard Mrs. Seymour called my name. "May I talk to you for a minute?" She didn't look pleased.

"Yes, Mrs. Seymour." I flashed her my famous, charismatic smile. "Is there anything that I can do for you?"

"Yes. Pass the class." She handed me a piece of paper with my name on it. "You failed again." She pointed at the huge D-. I stared at it in horror. How could someone fail literature? There was no way.

"Why did I fail? Again?"

"Simple mathematics, Mr. Lanter. You either didn't understand Ernest Hemingway's works, or you didn't care about him or didn't care to learn about his contributions to American Literature at all." Mrs. Seymour pointed out. She took her job seriously and her books and 'literature' even more seriously.

"I thought I had it in the bag. I perfectly get him." I attempted to argue further. Honestly, I thought The Old Man and the Sea was an easy read.

"Well, you thought wrong, Mr. Lanter. You wrote something entirely different and shallow at that. You need someone to help you understand how to read and figure out what's beyond in front of you. Get yourself a tutor. We have some brilliant minds here at Lediville High."

"It didn't take me hours to figure the story out. I mean, no offense to you, Mrs. Seymour, but I even thought that the story should be intended for seventh graders. I didn't break a sweat."

"Well then, maybe you should spend more hours figuring out and understanding what you're reading, Mr. Lanter—" she paused and furrowed her eyebrows "—although, I'm a bit curious because I spoke to Mr. Jacobs the other day, and he told me you're doing pretty good in his class.

My eyes lit up. "Exactly! There must be something wrong with your grading system." She glowered. "I mean... well, I don't exactly mean that. I mean, since I have been doing great with AP Art, I shouldn't be failing AP literature. They're one and the same."

"There you go. You're confusing things. Art is visual and auditory. Literature is purely texts. If you just try a little less being Mr. Popular and try a little more in my class, then we wouldn't have this conversation. Get a tutor to help you understand and pass this class, Mr. Lanter." She insisted again before shooing me out.