x
"Mr. Winters, can you give me the answer?” Ms. Payne asked.
Mark jolted in his seat. His "visions" were gone, and the story was over. When he heard his name called, it brought him back to the here and now.
"The Answer?" Mark said, clearing his throat.
"Yes, the answer. Weren't you paying attention?” Ms. Payne asked.
Hell no, I wasn't paying attention, Mark thought to himself.
And that was the only reason you called on me.
Ms. Payne liked embarrassing students when she caught them acting up and not paying attention, and even held up their test papers when they failed.
Mark had already decided to ask Jeanie out after class, but if Ms. Payne made him look like a fool, it could ruin his chances with her, and he hadn't even introduced himself yet.
You never get a second chance to make a first impression. Not a good one.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Payne, I couldn't hear you. Can you repeat the question?” Mark asked.
Ms. Payne scoffed.
"Who shot our 16th President Abraham Lincoln?” she repeated.
"Uh...That John…. Telephone... Booth guy,” Mark finished quickly.
The entire class erupted in laughter.
"That-is-not-funny,” Ms. Payne said to the class, enunciating each word carefully. “All of you quiet down this instant.”
When the class quieted down, Ms. Payne returned and picked up exactly where she had left off, "You mean John "Wilkes" Booth?”
"Yes, that's who I meant,” Mark answered.
I guess Ms. Payne didn't want to look like a fool in front of the new girl either, Mark thought.
"Then why didn't you say so in the first place?” Ms. Payne asked, putting him on the spot again.
Why was Ms. Payne giving him such a hard time?
Was Ms. Payne deliberately trying to embarrass him?
"Ms. Payne,” he replied, “you told us last semester that if we couldn't remember the answer, to associate something with it instead, like an image.”
“I took John Wilkes Booth and linked it to a picture of a telephone booth -since they have the same last name.”
Ms. Payne was confused because she had never told the class to link words with pictures. Mark made that up on the spot.
“Last name?” she repeated.
"Look, Ms. Payne, I don't know why you always call on me. Unlike these snobby rich girls, I like your casual shoes.”
Then he looked at them; Mark wanted the attention off him and back on her.
Ms. Payne looked down at her shoes, then immediately back up at the class.
The entire class erupted in laughter again.
This time she didn't yell at the room to quiet down. She waited patiently. Maybe Mark had earned that laugh. But before she spoke again, he panicked.
Maybe he had gone too far this time and should have quit while he was ahead. He couldn't help himself; he was still reeling from the images he'd seen from Jeanie's past, and now his mind was racing into overdrive.
Mark couldn't have stopped his mouth even if that meant a one-way ticket straight to the principal's office. Better to die a rebel than look like a fool.
Now that the class was quiet again, a composed Ms. Payne scanned the classroom with a Mona-Lisa smile. Her body language proclaimed: I am the adult here and will be the bigger person.
Her tone and mood seemed much lighter when she spoke the second time, "Well, I hope the rest of you will be able to associate pretty pictures with answers because there's going to be a test on Monday, and you can bet that question will be on there.
The entire class grumbled as if in protest, and then Ms. Payne stood in front of Jeanie's desk, "I'm sorry, honey, but that includes you as well."
Jeanie nodded without looking up at her. Suddenly the bell rang, and everybody got up and filtered out of the classroom and into the hallways.
Mark straggled behind as most of the class disappeared. Some of the other girls turned around to size Jeanie up again before leaving.
It was common for Ms. Payne to leave for the teachers' lounge to refill her Coffee during the bell in-between classes. When she left with the rest of the class, Mark took that as a good sign.
Kyle and Carlos sat together on the other side of the classroom, waiting for him by the door, but Mark waved them on impatiently for them to leave, trying not to be too obvious.
He didn't need those two idiots sticking around. If they stayed, they would only try to make him look bad and fuck things up for him. He needed to have Jeanie alone when he spoke to her.
Jeannie didn't act like she was in a hurry, so while collecting her things, Mark tried to keep pace, desperately thinking up an excuse to talk to her. Now that he had the opportunity, he had drawn a blank.
When he couldn't think of anything clever, he would at least say "Hi," before she got away, but when he turned, she was already looking at him and caught off guard; he froze, and then he smiled.
"Hey," he finally said.
"You were funny," Jeanie replied.
"How do you mean?" Mark asked.
"Complimenting her shoes," Jeanie returned.
"Yea, but I wasn't trying to be funny,” he explained, “Ms. Payne did catch me daydreaming.”
And then he checked the doorway to ensure she hadn't double-backed."
“Were you lying when you said you liked her shoes?” she asked.
"There okay, but I wish she’d buy some new ones. Ms. Payne wears the same outfits on the same days, and sometimes the other kids make fun of her. So, I was trying to help her out."
"Oh, really?" she laughed again.
"Yea,” he replied. Some people can be so immature. Besides, I like your shoes a lot better.”
Jeanie laughed again; she had a cute pair of "shoe boots" that were fashionable then.
"Our Homeroom Teacher, ‘Ms. Payne’ is well named because she loves to try and cause me grief every chance she gets."
"You -the bad boy- defending her?"
"Alright,” he replied, “maybe I'm exaggerating, but my distraction was legitimate this time.”
"What distraction?” she asked.
"Well, for one thing, Ms. Payne's voice is a distraction. Did you ever hear the voice of the Garfield cat in the Movies?"
"Yes," Jeanie replied.
"Ms. Payne's voice is a little like that, she has no inflection, and for someone with a ‘boring’ voice, she sure loves to hear herself talk."
"Are you sure you're not exaggerating again?" Jeanie asked.
“Her voice is the reason I daydream, Jeanie. “Didn’t you have a Ms. Payne at your school?"
"Yes,” she replied, “but her name was Ms. Harp.”
"Ms. Harp?” Mark repeated.
Jeanie laughed.
"And you?” he said shyly.
"And me what?" she asked.
"And you had me distracted?"
"Why me?" she asked.
Why you? Don't you own a fucking mirror? It might have to do with those two-bowling ball titties strapped to your chest.
"Well, it's not every day we meet a new student from a faraway land, and that's very exciting for these parts.”
"Exciting?” she asked, confused.
"You're a mystery,” he explained, "nobody knows anything about you."
"Even after I told the entire class my life story?"
"Yeah,” Mark agreed, “I can't believe Ms. Payne made you do that. I hate standing up front to give a book report.”
"Oh, my God, Mark,” she sounded dramatic, “I was so embarrassed. Please tell me I didn't look like a fool?”
She didn't mean to sound flirtatious, but it came out that way, and she couldn't prevent it when it did.
"No, you were cool, maybe a little shy, but for your first day, you did great."
"I must admit," Jeanie said, "out of all my teachers, Ms. Payne was the only one who made me do that."
Mark moved in to whisper. The smell of Jeanie's perfume was intoxicating.
"I should warn you that Ms. Payne is a real bitch, so don't take anything she does personally. I heard she even drinks in between classes."
Jeannie laughed.
"Thank you, Mark," Jeanie said, smiling. "You're good at making a new girl feel better."
"Well, I wasn't born here either,” he replied, “I was a new student myself at one time. But I had the luxury of starting fresh in September like everybody else. I can't imagine how difficult it must be to move in the middle of the year.”
"You don't know the half of it," Jeanie replied.
"Give me your number so you can tell me?”
Mark wasn't the least bit nervous, nor did he hesitate.
Wow, Jeanie thought, that was fast. How could she resist?
"My number?!" she balked.
“Yeah,” then Mark handed her his pen and paper. "I’ll call you after school.”
Jeanie stared at him, and behind those emerald-green eyes, Mark could see her trying to decide whether or not this was a good idea. He smiled and nodded slightly as if silently encouraging her.
"Mark, I don't even know your last name. Maybe we shouldn't rush into anything."
"My last name is Winters," he replied, offering his hand so she could shake it.
She took it, but on the same side, because she was left-handed.
"Yes, Mr. Winters, and I'm the new girl, so you’ll understand if I don't,"
"And you just made your first friend,” he said. “I mean if you want me….”
Jeanie flipped over the front cover to write but stopped when she saw he had scribbled on it.
"Uh, can I write on the back page instead?" she asked.
"You can write over the notes if you want."
Jeanie laughed as she quickly found a blank page to write down her number.
"Okay, Mark Winters, there you go.”
He looked at her handwriting, "Jeanie Winters."
"What did you say?" Jeanie asked fearfully.
Mark looked at her, "I'm sorry, Jeanie, I must have thought one thing while saying another."
Jeanie quickly handed him back his pen and notepad.
"Thank you, Jeanie Grants,” he corrected the second time.
Mark put his notebook away and slung his backpack around his shoulder; then, he picked up Jeanie's pink backpack and handed it to her.
"Thank You," Jeanie said.
"We better go," Mark noticed the other students for the next class pouring in as he walked behind her.
In the hallway, he asked, "Do you know where your next class is?"
"Yes,” Jeanie replied, “I memorized my schedule.”
"Jeannie, I was thinking… you gave me your number, but can you give me a specific time to call so I don’t talk to your dad?”
"How about Saturday around noon?”
“I was thinking more like tonight?”
"Well, let's not rush into anything."
"But I wanted to know about the other half of your story,” he begged, “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
She started laughing.
"We'll have something to discuss -on Saturday.”
"It's a date, then," Mark confirmed.
"A date?" she exclaimed, "No, I never said a date. I just agreed to your call."
Jeanie was embarrassed; immediately after he said it, the word “date” brought out the freckles on her pale skin.
Ms. Payne was returning from the teachers' lounge to her class with a fresh cup of Coffee.
She had just poured a shot of Bailey crème from a disguised container she hid in the back of the lounge fridge. This would be her third shot of the day.
She reminded lagging students to get to their next class before the second bell rang, but she was distracted as she sipped her Irish Coffee and wondered if the Mall was having a sale on shoes this weekend.
87Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoCO9nhV4mE
87Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNqeS6ncigm
