Missing in Action

Chapter 003

'Quietly' didn't seem to have much of an effect since the teacher, an elderly, strict-looking woman, looked straight at him the moment he shut the door behind him. Her eyes were narrowed and irritated behind thick glasses. "And who do I have the pleasure of seeing in my classroom at..." She looked pointedly at her watch before meeting his gaze again, lips pursed. "Eight thirty-four?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Ryan mumbled. "I got lost. The kid who-"

"I didn't ask for the story of your life," the woman snapped, glaring even harder. "I asked for a name to write down on this detention slip."

He gulped slightly, looking down on his sneakers momentarily before moving his gaze back up. "Ryan Hastings, ma'am," he answered, having to force himself to keep from shuffling his feet nervously. Great, first day and he already had a detention. At least he didn't have orders not to get one. And damn, yet another reason to dislike the Walker kid.

The teacher quickly scribbled a note and placed it on her desk with a slap of her hand. "Well, don't just stand there. One thing is that you're late and haven't brought your books, an entirely different one is to disrupt the lesson for the entire class. Sit!"

Ryan nodded, turning around to overlook the classroom. There weren't many free seats, so he simply hurried down and all but flung himself into the first one, hoping to lose the spotlight as soon as possible.

Spencer chuckled quietly, as did most of the boys in the class, and guessed that this was the kid Jon had been talking about. He settled right down when the teacher turned her attention back to the class. She didn't waste any time in informing them of the project once again and forming the groups. When she had gone through most of the students, she turned to Spencer. "And, from what I remember, since Mr. Smith cannot seem to agree with anyone in this class, we'll try giving him a new partner. Ryan Hastings, you are now paired up with Spencer Smith. Spencer, I expect you to make an effort, instead of arguing with your classmates about everything." Without waiting for a reply from either boy, she turned away from them and started writing on the chalkboard. "This," she started, once she'd written on the board, "is your subject."

'Slaves And Our Economy: Are their salaries making a difference?'

Spencer held back a groan and let his head fall onto the desk, just as the teacher told everyone to pair up. He kept his face on the hard, cool, surface of the desk and didn't look up. He sure as hell was not going to be the one to move.

Ryan, honestly, felt disgusted just by the subject in itself. He couldn't understand how anyone could see other people as possessions, something to own and now something to hate because it messed with the economy. This, he reminded himself, was a huge part of the reason why he was so adamant on fighting for his own country, because it was the opposite, because it regarded people as people.

After a few moments and another stern look from the teacher, he started looking around the classroom before letting his eyes settle on the boy he supposed was Spencer Smith. The only one not in a group yet anyway. The boy was nearly lying across his table, and Ryan wasn't sure whether he was asleep or just trying to disappear. Frankly he didn't care much. Essays were something he could deal with, even if the subject was horrible. After all the only things he'd written in years were letters, emails, reports and files. He had non-fiction down quite well.

He remembered group work in high school, though, and had to hold back a groan. He'd never been good at it, mostly because the others either hated him, didn't take the assignment seriously, or both, and as a result he much preferred doing this kind of work on his own. He wasn't exactly being given a choice, though, so he finally picked up his chair and moved it over to the boy's desk. "Hey," he muttered, refraining from biting his lip yet again.