"Why didn't you do your homework Ambie?"
Mr Luke asks me. I look up. I was drawing on my English book. Light pink stars, and dark pink circles. Mr Luke's eyebrows were raised. They are thick and black. I wanted to point out; that there are hair lice's growing on his eyebrows, but somehow, it didn't seem like the right time. I thought he was going to give me grieve about drawing on my English book, again. It was my new book, because the last one he said was 'graffiti and a mess.' I thought of it as artistic and creative though. I smiled upwardly nicely, and hid the drawings on my book. I only smiled because I didn't want to get in trouble for rudeness as well as no homework, and for possibly my English book. Inside my head there is a battle going on. Which, I'll get in more trouble for; not doing my homework or drawing on my book.
"No reason huh?"
It was definitely about the homework.
"Well..." I started. "I did do my homework. I did sir... but it's a long story..."
"It always is." He says doubtfully. He is seated in his chair now, and he stares at me. "Go on. Intrigue us all with your story." He says after a while."
"I'm not lying!" I say hardly.
"I never said you were lying did I?" He protests. " And do not put word in my mouth"
"Your body language says it though. You might not have said it, but you sure did imply it." I say.
"How can you say that, if I never said the words, you are lying?"
"You just said. You are lying. Your own words." I clap my two hands together. "Well instead of beginning my story on how I don't have my homework, I will tell you. Rather more lecture you, on how your body language tells me."
"Sir. Can I start?" I ask
"Okay." He answers.
"That is four times." Sir RUDELY interrupts. But I do not bother pointing that out.
"What is four times?" I ask.
"Four times you said well."
I frown at him. "Oh well, and plus sir. You used incorrect grammar..." I think. "You were suppose to sat You have said well four times."
"Six." He says.
The class laughs.
"Well, well, well, well, well, well." Sir laughs.
"I shall now, attempt to begin. You were standing right in front of me, for a start. You are wearing that, horrible, terrible checked shirt, to agonise my eyes. Your sleeve is rolled up, meaning you are ready to fight... fight verbally, because a fist fight would be child abuse. You've got your clip board and pencil, to take down my name. Your eyes are wide and hopeful, like a vampire, who is 2 feet away from it's next victim. Your mouth is quivering, and you are smiling. And you came to me, asking Why didn't you do your homework, before even asking if I had done it." I look at his shirt " Buy a new shirt. The one your wearing is horrible"
I then think out loud. "You shouldn't roll up your sleeves, your
arm hair is long and curly..." Perhaps, I shouldn't have said
that... He looked at me angrily, but then calmed down.
"Can I tell my story?" I ask.