Skipping Class

29 January 2013 in 20 Minute Stories

*  Note – tonight’s creative writing class was about dialogue, and the topic I picked was “skipping class.”  The following story is based on a true story.  The names have been changed to protect the guilty.  Enjoy!

“I can’t believe he still hasn’t seen us,” Jason whispered.

“He never does.  He’s making this too easy.  We’re gonna have to come up with another way to do this,” Mike replied.

The two teenagers stood motionless at their grade 12 Algebra class staring in, silently hoping Mr. Robinson wouldn’t notice them.

“Screw this, I’m going,” Mike muttered.

“Shut up and wait for the bell.  You know that’s the rule,” Jason replied.

“Fine, have it your way.  You know I’m right though.”

Every day, Jason and Mike wandered slowly towards their first period class – Algebra with Mr. Robinson – and stopped at the door.  They both despised the teacher and were annoyed to no end that someone could slowly suck their love of mathematics from their lives.  It was almost as if setting foot in Mr. Robinson’s class meant that they had to relinquish a small piece of their soul.

Every day they got to the classroom door, stood, and waited.  Long ago they made an agreement with each other:  if Mr. Robinson saw them, they would slowly enter the class, sit down, and endure the mundane seventy-two minute nonsensical lecture that was Robinson’s Algebra Homeroom.

If, however, the second attendance bell rang and they had not been spotted, they moved on to Plan B.

The two boys had been friends since the ninth grade, and had been in every math class together since then.  Calculus, Finite Maths and Geometry had all been conquered in the previous semester with fantastic results.  This semester, Algebra was proving to be a challenge.  Not because of the difficulty of the subject, but because their teacher was a pompous ass.

Mike glanced impatiently at his watch.  It seemed to be creeping along slower than ever.

“For crying out loud! That damned bell is NEVER going to ring and he’s going to see us.  Dude, I REALLY need that milkshake.”

By Mike’s count, they had successfully dodged class using this method on fifteen occasions.  Each time, he and Jason would hop into his Honda, burn out of the high school parking lot and head downtown to McDonald’s for a chocolate milkshake.  They would never skip class two days in a row, though, and thanks to Mr. Robinson’s oblivious nature, the constant excuse of “I was sick” coupled with morning allergies was typically met with the reply of “you don’t sound well.”

“Thirty seconds,” Jason whispered.

“About frickin’ time,” complained Mike.

Mike kept his eyes on his watch.  He loved that watch – the green Swatch his uncle had bought for him a decade ago was a collector’s item now.

“BOYS, so nice to see you!” bellowed Mr. Robinson.  He sounded kind of like Leslie Nielsen, only if Leslie Nielsen ate people’s souls instead of making comedy movies.

“I hate you,” mumbled Mike.

“What was that?” Mr. Robinson trumpeted.

“I’d love to,” Mike groaned.

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29 January 2013 20 Minute Stories