I walked over the threshold with clouded eyes. My body had been up for two hours but my eyes apparently had not. People came in disjointed parts; a head… a finger… a knee. The clock on the wall ticked by and I silently reminded myself not to fidget. Five… Ten… Fifteen minutes…
I didn’t realize my muscles had been slightly shaking until they started to stop. The desk was like a wall between me and the rest of the class and I took comfort in that. If I kicked one leg out and rested it on the metal supports I might look even more relaxed, so I tried that and prayed it helped a bit. Slouching was difficult when I wanted to hear what was going on, but it was probably not cool to sit up straight, and they were already going to think I was a nerd because I was a freshmen in a class of mostly sophomores and juniors. I used my lounging leg to force my back into the chair. How anyone could find it comfortable is a mystery to me.
The teacher passed out a syllabus everyone neglected to pick up on the way in. It was very simple, like the seating chart. One sided with bullet points of important information. I was starting to get an impression of this class that my mother would not approve of, but came as a breath of fresh air compared to the three to five pages of specific instructions passed out by every teacher in my MACAT classes. The words “Easy peasy.” slipped into my psyche, and I didn’t bother to refute them.
I straightened up infinitesimally because it was becoming downright uncomfortable to lean back so much and rolled my shoulders out as nonchalantly as I could. I couldn’t tell you a single thing the teacher said after the first ten minutes but I looked at her almost exclusively; unlike anyone else. When I did slip away from her fierce eye contact there wasn’t much to see. Some of the kids were on the verge of sleep. Her posters all talked about success and might as well have been black and white. I was better off watching the teacher and her pleading eyes even if I didn’t bother to take notice of her moving lips.
Anyhow, the time did pass and the bell did ring, miraculously. I got out of my seat slowly and made my own pace to the door. Gym might be fun. My teacher there was the same from seventh grade, and she was quick to make a joke.
Absentmindedly my arms started to swing, and like they will, every five steps or so, my legs did a little hop.
The teacher didn’t show up until three minutes after the first bell, and made a point to apologetically read her own sign about punctuality. I found myself in front of a basic seating chart with pictures instead of names. My face was in the back row, three over from the cabinets or three over from the windows, which is truly a gift for someone as directionally impaired as me. I was still pleased when I walked up the wrong isle and had to slide between the hard plastic chair and the wall, so it didn’t bother me a lick.
I didn’t realize my muscles had been slightly shaking until they started to stop. The desk was like a wall between me and the rest of the class and I took comfort in that. If I kicked one leg out and rested it on the metal supports I might look even more relaxed, so I tried that and prayed it helped a bit. Slouching was difficult when I wanted to hear what was going on, but it was probably not cool to sit up straight, and they were already going to think I was a nerd because I was a freshmen in a class of mostly sophomores and juniors. I used my lounging leg to force my back into the chair. How anyone could find it comfortable is a mystery to me.
The teacher passed out a syllabus everyone neglected to pick up on the way in. It was very simple, like the seating chart. One sided with bullet points of important information. I was starting to get an impression of this class that my mother would not approve of, but came as a breath of fresh air compared to the three to five pages of specific instructions passed out by every teacher in my MACAT classes. The words “Easy peasy.” slipped into my psyche, and I didn’t bother to refute them.
I straightened up infinitesimally because it was becoming downright uncomfortable to lean back so much and rolled my shoulders out as nonchalantly as I could. I couldn’t tell you a single thing the teacher said after the first ten minutes but I looked at her almost exclusively; unlike anyone else. When I did slip away from her fierce eye contact there wasn’t much to see. Some of the kids were on the verge of sleep. Her posters all talked about success and might as well have been black and white. I was better off watching the teacher and her pleading eyes even if I didn’t bother to take notice of her moving lips.
Anyhow, the time did pass and the bell did ring, miraculously. I got out of my seat slowly and made my own pace to the door. Gym might be fun. My teacher there was the same from seventh grade, and she was quick to make a joke.
Absentmindedly my arms started to swing, and like they will, every five steps or so, my legs did a little hop.
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