As the rain smashed against the window, she just wanted to be home. In bed. Snuggled in blankets. It didn’t help that the air conditioning was on in the classroom. And the teacher droned on and on and on. And on. And on.
And on.
What was he even talking about? She had no idea. Something about math, obviously. But he wasn’t putting anything on the board. Just talking. Did he just say something about a test next class? She didn’t care.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Great. Now she had to decide if she should try to check and risk his wrath. It’s an automatic absence if he sees her phone out. It went off again. Was that the same text? It was too close together. Wasn’t it? Or was it just the second alert?
She decided it wasn’t worth it. Usually she enjoyed this class, but today…today was just so blah. Blech. Yuck.
She looked at the clock. How had it only been fifteen minutes??? It felt like class should have been almost over.
There were shirts in the schoolyard. She could see them from her seat. They represented something, but she wasn’t sure what. Did it matter? Could she make a difference either way? This was way too deep thinking for 8 AM. She had a break after this class. Then a class at 11:15. Is a forty-minute nap worth it? She would just be groggy for the rest of the day. Should she grab breakfast? It was so far…like two blocks…to the caf. Then again…they couldn’t mess up breakfast, could they?
Her phone went off again. Maybe it was someone asking her to go to breakfast. Maybe it was him. That would be even worse. He wasn’t taking it well. If it was a text from him, it was definitely not worth the risk.
He’s collecting the homework. She already has it out in front of her, and passes it up. The guy behind her was hitting her in the neck with the corner of his homework. She forgot he was even there. She grabbed it, gave him a look, and passed it up.
The teacher did that thing all teachers do when they get a stack of papers. Fix it, try to right the crooked ones, and then smack it on the desk so they all align. Except they won’t, because some people left those fuzzy edges on the paper.
He put them down. It rained harder, the AC kicked in and blew ice-cold air right up her sleeve, making her shiver, and he started droning on and on and on.
And on.
A Flash of Inspiration 