Tuesday, a returning student

Tuesday, another day. It’s amazing how quickly you can get used to new routines. Only two weeks down and waking early and heading to school feels normal. This day you make a special effort to get to school in time for assembly. Although why you bother is beyond you. You’ve been to a few, and they all bored you. This one is no exception.

Your fellow teachers appear equally indifferent to the process. Only about half of them are present, and most of them pay little attention. Well, every job has its tedious aspects. Attending assembly is this job’s version.

Assembly might get the girls in the right mood for the day, for you, though, it’s a complete failure. You stumble through the first lesson.

The second lesson starts with even more disruption. It’s the Upper Sixth ‘B’ Stream, and it’s disturbed firstly by the return of Brianna.

“Brianna, you’re back,” you greet the redhead. “I hope you’re better?”

“Yes, sir, thank you. I still can’t use my left hand.” She holds up that hand. It’s swathed in white bandages. “But I’m mainly right-handed so it should be OK.”

“Did your classmates give you the lesson notes?”

“Yes, sir, they did.”

{if Ginger = 1}She pauses for a moment, edges closer and asks in a lower voice. “Sir, is it OK if I talk to you about them this evening?”

“This evening? I’m not here this evening.”

“I could come round. I have questions. It’d be easier if I came round after school.”

You feel there’s something else behind her question, but you can’t tell what. In the end you agree. {endif}

Brianna’s appearance is disruptive; all the girls want to talk to her and catch her up on gossip. It’s five minutes before everyone is settled and you can start the lesson. You don’t get far into it before you’re disturbed by a knock on the door.