rain and roses - steven meeks

[17]

"Miss Scott, I see you're causing quite the commotion over there. Would you like to be the next to share?" Mr. Keating's tone was more playful towards the girl, but Angeline stood up just the same.

"Of course Captain." Pulling out a rather small paper from her desk, the girl walked towards the front of the room, smiling slightly at the words of encouragement spoken by her classmates.

"Alright," the girl cleared her throat. "This one is called 'Fear'."

"It crawls in your body,
it crawls in your brain,
it crawls in your bones,
till nothing remains.   

It feeds on your sadness,
it feeds on your guilt,
it feeds on your sorrow,
past the walls you've built.   

No matter how hard you try,
no matter how hard you fight,
no matter how happy you feel,
it never lets you win, not quite."

Signaling she was done, Angeline flashed a thumbs up. Mr. Keating clapped his hand on her shoulder.

"Wonderful, Miss Scott. Using a common feeling in a more complex way." The girl forces a smile and began her trek back to her seat. As she sat down, Steven leaned over and reached for her hand.

"Another point for the English whiz." Blushing slightly, Angeline pulled away and moved her body away from the boy, trying to hold the tears from spilling from her eyes.

"Yeah, something like that." With squinted eyes, the girl turned her eyes back to Mr. Keating, who stood in front of Todd.

"Mr. Anderson, I see you sitting there in agony. Come on Todd, step up. Let's put you out of your misery."

"I , I didn't do it. I didn't write a poem." At this, Angeline raised her eyebrows. If she knew anything about the boy, it was that he was not a slacker. Shy and awkward, maybe, but not a slacker. She even recalled a time where Todd had left one of the study sessions to work on this poem.

"Mr. Anderson thinks everything inside him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn't that right, Todd? Isn't that your worst fear? I think you're wrong. I think you have something inside you worth a great deal."

Angeline watched in silence as Mr. Keating brought Todd into the front of the class. Turning away slightly, the girl closed her eyes as she listened to her friend struggle to find his voice. Her hands gripped the table harshly, her knuckles turning white under the pressure the girl was putting them under.

The girl hated to see anyone struggle, especially if that someone was one of her friends. It reminded her of her childhood, days and days of little Angeline trying to find herself in a man's world. And even if she had supposedly "found" her supposed place, it wasn't where she wanted to be. No, Angeline wanted to be more than a trophy wife, a woman in the kitchen. She wanted to achieve greatness.

"The picture of Uncle Walt up there. What does he remind you of? Don't think. Answer. Go on."

Turning her head back towards the class, Angeline set her eyes on the boy beside her. Steven was leaned forward against his desk, his attention pointed directly at Todd and Mr. Keating. The boy's hand rested under his chin, allowing for him to slouch into a more comfortable position. The other hand was fidgeting with a miscellaneous pen on his desk, flipping the writing utensil back-and-forth in a cyclical motion. The girl could tell that he wasn't as interested in the scene in front of him as some others in the class by the way his eyes were fluttering behind his glasses. Frowning to herself, Angeline crossed her arms and placed her head against the soothing cool desk in front of her before she could get caught staring.