✎ | The Heir of Shadows

Ms. Buzzbee vs Lee Solace

My eyes kept flicking between the paper on my desk and the clock mounted on the wall. The room was deathly still, and it was making me sick to my stomach.

My favorite seventh grade memory!

This was a waste of time.

I tapped my pencil against the side of my desk, causing several people to peer up at me from their hunched over positions. I flicked my eyes up once more, giving several of them once-overs. They pretended not to be looking.

I felt a nudge to my foot.

Beside me sat Delta, seemingly deep in thought about what she was writing on her paper. I knew better than that, though. I glanced down at her foot, which she had stretched over so that it was bumping against mine.

I nudged her foot back and made a face, but she didn't look up. Instead, she dropped a neatly folded sticky note onto the ground without catching anyone's eye.

Of course Delta would decide to pass me a note and risk getting us detention on the last day of school.

I thought about this consequence as I placed my shoe gently over the paper, then slowly slid it towards me. I rolled my pencil off of my desk, and it clattered to the floor.

"Hah," I muttered, only loud enough for the couple of people around me to hear. "Whoops."

I reached down to snatch up my fallen pencil, grabbing the note as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Delta smirking.

Then, just as I went to pull open the note, a hand slammed on my desk. I jumped, as did Delta, and a few kids sitting in close proximity of the noise. I felt my face grow hot and prickly, and clutched the note like it was my lifeline.

"Bianca," Mr. Floyd said carefully, being sure to enunciate every syllable. "Do you have anything you would like to share with the class?"

"Not really, Mr. Floyd," I told him, my voice wavering.

He held out his palm. His fingernails were chipped and gross looking.

Slowly, I placed the sticky note into his hand, careful not to make any contact with him. He snapped his palm shut and spun around, walking away from me.

As he made his way to the front of the classroom, I let my head fall into my hands. Beside me, Delta whimpered.

Mr. Floyd cleared his throat and unfolded the note.
The worst thing about this was that everyone was looking up at him. The room remained silent.

I looked over at Delta, who I was convinced was about to mentally (and possibly physically) explode.
My head snapped back to Mr. Floyd as he began to read.

"Do you think your brother will take pity on me and take me to the dance? My twelve step plan to become his girlfriend will be shortened to ten."

The class erupted into laughter, and several people turned to Delta to ask giddy questions.

I groaned, setting my head down on my desk so that no one could make eye contact with me. After years of being friends with her, sometimes I could never understand why Delta said some of the stuff that she did.