Strings Attached

~Chapter 6~

When the half time is over, we gather at the door of the class. On the count of three, all of us throw ourselves at the door at once, ending up crashing on the floor. Remarkable entrance! The whole class gasps and then erupts into shouts of laughter. Poor 'Turtleneck' is stunned.

"Where were you all, may I ask?" he inquires, recovering quicker than expected. "No, you may definitely not," I tell him, heartily shaking my head. "If you must know, Mr. Hasan, no one asked you," the old man quips up. I only chuckle at that. "You didn't specify that, old man." He looks at me wide-eyed, his mouth agape like a fish out of the water, but doesn't say a thing. He addresses Tyler instead. "Would you care to throw some light, Mr. Jeffords, as to your whereabouts since the last half hour?" "Oh... um we were practicing football sir," he comes up with a spontaneous excuse.

"And how does that guarantee that you will get good grades in the upcoming exams?" Turtleneck asks again. This man is boring me out. "You should be thankful that we came at all, okay!" I retort. "Oh really, thank you so much for gracing us with your presence today, your highness!" "Don't mention it," I tell him, smiling.

"Get to your seats," he says sternly. And the rest of the class, the old man is subject to a certain number of ping-pong balls thrown directly at his nearly bald head. He is freaked out but before he can take any action, his thunderstorm of a wife comes barging in. Apparently, he left the toaster switched on and her kitchen caught fire.

We spend the rest of the day playing pranks on our teachers and students alike. Sometimes, we are thrown out and at other times, we throw them out. We have our last Economics class right at the end of the day. Deciding to not skip the class, I go inside and sit at the very end, defeated. I have a really bad history with my economics teacher. Let's just say that he can't stand me and I can't stand him.

"Good afternoon, everyone," Mr. Graham says opening his folder that's ever overflowing with papers. He's a researcher, they say. "Open your textbooks at page 210. We'll be studying a comparison of economic histories of three different countries, which I might add, are in various stages of development." At this point, he spots me, very much physically present in the class.

"We have a very special guest in the class, I see," he remarks. "Is it just me or did the sun actually rise from the west today?" I'm not in the mood to argue with him, so instead of saying anything snide in return, I just casually wave my hand at him, slumping further down in my chair.

"What? No stupid comeback?" he asks, raising one of his brows inquisitively. "Thought I'd let you play me for today," I comment, and lie my head down on the desk, suddenly finding the scribbles on it more interesting than what he has to say about me.

"Well, I'm sure that's some improvement." I let him speak about my rude behavior the whole year for the longest time. As I said, he has a free pass to insult me today. "Anyway, let's begin. Who will tell me when the 'Great Depression' came?" Graham asks the whole class. 'Richie Rich' raises his hand, among others. "Yes, Mr. Brooks?" "It began in 1929 and lasted till 1932." "Very well. But I didn't ask you how long it lasted. Just answer what you're asked, alright," Graham chides the bloke. I chuckle loudly at that. The fu**er was trying to be over smart.

"No need to laugh Mr. Hasan! I can bet you didn't know even a simple thing as that." I just scowl at him and get busy playing with my phone. "No using cellphones in my class, please." "If you have eyes, you'll see that I'm not using it," I retort, throwing up my cellphone and catching it in midair. "No playing with it either."