Elementary

Chapter one

 Chapter one: 

Ms. Longe beams at the kids in the class. Then she looks at me. Suddenly, her expression sours, and every muscle in her face switches from smiling, to looking like she came back from a funeral. She doesn't lose the pompous expression, though. I realize that I have never seen her smile at me. Sure, I have seen her smile, a lot, especially at Liza, but I have never actually seen her smile while looking at me.

"Miss Connor, focus on your test." She snaps, waking me to the world again from my train of thought. The regular world. The double desks. The chalkboard that's never erased completely. This is my life, and this math test is going to get me grounded. The questions consist of only words that I have forgotten, and small non mathematical words, like "and", "or", "the", and "it".

I imagine the future: sweeping and mopping the floor, cleaning the toilet, and simply everything mom doesn't want to do, and her excuse not to do it herself is my grades. It's my destiny. I'm doomed. The word that fits this description perfectly, is "poop." Poop. Poop. poopety poop poop.

What's an exponent?

Whatever, I'll just multiply it.

"You have 5 more minutes to finish your test."

What's that word again? Oh yeah. Poop.

I'm going to have to BS this to get it done. I'm still on problem two, so if I just circle whatever number I've come up with so far, I can escape to the multiple choice section, randomly circle letters and hope for the best.

I've made it. I'm done on time. Maybe it wasn't an ideal way to do it, but at least I won't get to lunch late, having to stay in Mrs. Longe's classroom, alone with her demonic face, and slow walk.

I stand up, and place my test on Mrs. Longe's desk, giving her a look of my own invention: the You have underestimated me. I will go to lunch on time today, suckahhhhh look, adding flare by glaring. She simply glances up at me, giving me the look that she invented: the I don't care look. Then, once she finishes her "look", her face droops like a bull dog. Expressionless.

"Miss Connor. Step outside and try to regroup yourself."

I look up, eyes wide, and jaw dropping.

"I didn't do anything!" I try to say, but she glares me down. This sucks. I grip my pencil tightly as I walk out the door, into the halls. Then, I look down. Having half of a pencil wouldn't be that bad. I grip the pencil with both of my hands, the backs of them facing up. I squeeze the pencil hard, and then rip my hands down and out, breaking the pencil in half. For a second I hear the sound of sparks, but I storm back into the classroom, plopping back in my seat.

The bell rings.

I stuff the paper in my backpack as quickly as I can, and race to the door. Henry jumps in front of me before I'm out. He has beaten me, that butt-hole. I make it out second, and run to a table where I pull out my lunch. Before I pull anything out, the fire alarm goes off. The middle schoolers around me all plug their ears, and moan. Honestly, it's not that bad.

Over the loudspeaker, I hear the principal's voice.

"Kids, please quietly and calmly walk to the field. There is a small fire, but the school has it under control. Again, please calmly walk to the field."

I pick up my lunch, which feels especially light today, and begin walking to the field. When I get there, I see hundreds of kids sitting in a clump, beginning to open their lunches. I suddenly feel a growl in my stomach at the sight of the paper bag labeled "London". I didn't realize how hungry I was.