"Timeless" - Narnian Autumn Writing Challenge - Oneshot Collection

"Brave"

Word count: 2712

Prompt: Windy

°

"Are you listening to what I am saying, young man?"

Edmund flipped his pencil in between his fingers, licking his lips and not looking up.

"Is there a problem here?" Mr. Winkler asked, leaning close, so close that when Ed gazed up he noticed his glasses were slipping slowly off.

"Um, no, not with me," He held in a giggle and kept his face in an innocent expression, "But it seems your glasses are slipping off your nose."

The teacher straightened.

"I didn't mean to offend you, sir, I-"

"Get up and head down to the principal's office."

"But I didn't-"

"Go," Holding up a hand and blinking his tired eyes, Mr. Winkler, Ed's boring math teacher, sighed.

A few seats back he heard Timothy snicker; of course.

He didn't budge from his chair.

"Edmund, am I going to have to help you find your way off of your chair, out of this classroom, and to the principal's office?" Mr. Winkler crossed his arms.

Closing his eyes so he could roll them without being yelled at, Edmund stood up, snatched his school books from off his desk loudly, and began moving for the door.

Halfway through the rows of seats, a foot appeared before he had to react and he tripped and landed on his bottom, his books scattering. It was Timothy stupid Jackle.

Timothy winked and then nudged Paul, who, laughed.

Ed openly rolled his eyes this time. Paul was supposed to be a friend. Ha!

Friends. You couldn't count on them. Unless they were King Caspian X. Then you could count on them. His stomach sank for a moment at the thought of Narnia.

And then his cheeks burned. Everyone looked his way, a couple of the schoolkids covered their mouths and giggled.

"Stop fooling around and get going," Mr. Winkler drew a triangle on the chalkboard and then snapped his fingers, "And the rest of you- put your eyes over here before I send you all to the principal's office!"

Timothy stuck his tongue out quickly and then turned to unamusedly watch their teacher draw out shapes, mouthing along.

Getting up off the hard floor, he sighed and collected his books, trying not to notice the occasional eyes scrutinizing his every move or the whispers about how strange he was.

Thankfully, he was out of the classroom in a matter of seconds and was skipping to the principal's office, knowing the way there too well.

For a moment, everything seemed peaceful, the school hallways were silent and the only noise was the sound of his shoes scuffing the floor.

And then, all too soon, he was at the door with the words "principal's office" written on a label on the wood.

Blowing out a breath for a steadying step, he creaked open the door and slunk inside guiltily.

From folding a stack of papers, Mr. Booker looked up through narrowed eyes, "I expected you."

"Alright."

"That's unfortunate. You know-"

"Can we get this over with? I'd like to get home before the storm hits. It's getting awfully windy out."