The Sheriffs Son and The Convicts Daughter

Chapter Six ~

The next few weeks went by really fast and now there were only two more weeks of sophomore year. Pacey and Joey stopped fighting and worked everything out, making their friends happy. They all became really good friends over the last weeks and had a lot of fun together.

In every school, there are two types of teachers when it comes to the end of the year. On one hand, you have the ones who want summer to finally start like all the students and who will only watch some movies in their class. On the other hand, you have the ones who still try to teach you something and give you homework at every chance. Mr. Peterson, the worst teacher at Capeside High School, was the second kind of teacher.

Pacey and Jack were sitting in class. It was hot outside and none of the students were motivated to do anything. Everyone just wanted the school to end already.

Mr. Peterson was going from one student to the other, collecting their latest homework assignment. When it was Pacey's turn, he couldn't resist playing with his teacher a little. He acted like he couldn't find his poem, just so he could pull it out with a big grin, handing it in casually and making the whole class giggle.

"Ode to the sports car." Mr. Peterson didn't look pleased. "Mr. Witter, just because I'm not going to grade this assignment doesn't mean you had to scribble it down like that." He shook his head disappointed.

"I worked hard on that." Pacey frowned.

"Once a slacker, always a slacker." Mr. Peterson wasn't finished yet. "Let me tell you something Mr. Witter, with this little attitude of yours, you are never going to get far. It's even wondering how you finished your sophomore year. If it were up to me, I would have failed you."

"That's not fair. I studied this whole semester." Pacey was getting angry at the man in front of him.

"Fairness is overrated. Don't you see it, Mr. Witter? You don't belong here. Never have and never will." With that, Mr. Peterson turned around and walked to his desk.

Pacey turned to Jack and whispered, "Is it just me, or does that man get meaner every day?"

"It's not just you," Jack reassured his friend.

"Excuse me, Mr. McPhee? Is there something you want to share with the class?" Mr. Peterson turned to him with a pointed look.

"Uhm... not really." Jack looked down at his desk. "Uhm..." Jack tried to find an excuse. "I was just talking about my poem." He lied.

"Really?" Mr. Peterson didn't believe a word but went along with it anyway. "So, perhaps you would like to read your poem out loud?"

"Now?" Jack was pale. His hands got sweaty, and he stumbled nervously. "You... You said that these poems were just for you."

"Well, I changed my mind. These things happen." Peterson sat down at his desk. "Please, Mr. McPhee, stand up."

Jack stood up uncomfortable. He began to read. "Today..." He looked around. "Today was a day the world grew smaller...darker. I grew more afraid... not of what I am but what I could be." Jack took a deep breath, getting more and more nervous as he went on. Mr. Peterson was just sitting there, not stopping him as Pacey was sending death glares in his teachers' direction. "I grew more afraid... not of what I am but what I could be. I loosen my collar to take a breath. My eyes fade... "Jack's eyes started to tear up as he continued. "And I see... I see him. The image of perfection. His frame was strong, his lips smooth. And I keep thinking... what am I so afraid of? I wish I could escape the pain, but these thoughts invade my head, bound to my memory, like shackles of guild..." That was all he could handle. He ran out, tears running down his face.