It took me until the end of lunch break to completely pull myself together again. By the time I was getting out of my car, my midsection had a dull ache going and my eyes were a light pink that could pass off as tiredness. The marks on my arm were undetectable to the glancing eye, but I still knew that they were there. Foundation couldn’t cover up my pain.
I fell into step with all of the other students making their way to seventh hour. Only two periods left in the school day, and Niall and I thankfully didn’t have a tutoring session scheduled today - something or other about the derby right after school let out. I’d already taken the daily beating from Niall - that is, if he decided to let me be for our physics class, which happened to be next. Likeliness of that? None.
I stopped at my locker to grab my textbook, then weaved my way through the mass of students to Mrs. Dillard’s classroom. Niall was already sat down in his desk, and I had to pass him on the way back to mine. I gritted my teeth and lowered my head, then hurried past. I felt his eyes follow me like daggers in my back, but I tried to ignore the uncontrollable and mental pain he was causing me.
I sat down just as the bell rang, a few more students shuffling through the door and to their seats. Mrs. Dillard strolled into the room after shutting the door, a large glass jar in her hand. She set the jar on her desk at the front of the room, then turned to face the class with her hands on her hips.
“Good afternoon,” she said, as always. “I trust that your lunch went well?” She got no reply, per usual. She shrugged it off and grabbed a stack of notecards that had been in a pile on her desk. “When I pass these around,” she gestured to the cards, “I want you to put your names on them. Then I’ll pass around the jar so you can put them in there.”
“What is this for?” a boy in the front row asked, readjusting the glasses on the brim of his nose.
“Well, if I told you now, what fun would that be?” Mrs. Dillard giggled, sliding a notecard onto my desk as she walked by. “You’ll all see in a moment, anyway.”
I scribbled my name - Samm Carter - onto the notecard, then folded it in half like the other students had done. When Mrs. Dillard came around with the jar I dropped it in, along with everyone else. She made her way back up to her desk and placed it on top, then leaned back against the edge of the desk.
“Okay,” she chirped, clapping her hands together. Mrs. Dillard was always so cheery - I wished it rubbed off on me. “We’re a few weeks into the semester, and we’re studying transfers of energy and the laws of motion, so I think it’s time for a project.” Everyone in the class groaned, including me.
“Now, now,” the tsked, shaking her head. “You won’t be pulling this load alone. That’s why I had you put your names on these cards. We’ll be drawing for partners.”
I sighed quietly. Whenever we had a partner project I just ended up doing everything - because, like Niall said, no one wanted to even glance at me. My partner and I would meet for the times we were required to, but then I told the person I was working with that I’d take over if they wanted me to. They always said yes.
“First, though,” she continued. “I’ve got to explain the assignment.”
She made her way to the board, which had the projector’s screen over it. She quickly drew it up, revealing a step list of instructions.
“Obviously,” Mrs. Dillard said. “You’ll be getting your partners first. Second,” she gestured to the second step, “you’ll be moving to sit next to your partner, then I’ll hand out a sheet with further details. Third, you’ll be getting your assigned project - this project will be all about chain reactions and transfers of energy. This will entail an effect similar to falling dominoes, only on a more elaborate scale. Household items, wind energy, water energy. It’ll be a whole lot of fun!”
