A/N: Yeah...hello strangers...I'm very sorry about the wait - the only excuse I have is that, following the disaster that was last week's English Mock exam, I was waiting for the result so I could finish the chapter! Hopefully, it's length will make up for it...anyway, I'll shut up and get on with it now! Oh, and as normal, text between *** denotes texting ;)
I enter the exam hall, trepidation coursing through my veins. I hate exams, especially English, as there's so much thinking and writing for very few questions. To top it off, it's like the exam board actually want to bore us poor students to death, as they always set such mundane topics to write about; the November mock (theme of "Journeys") wasn't that bad, and I prayed I'd be lucky again this time round.
To no avail, I very quickly realised as I cautiously glanced at the paper in front of me. I caught sight of the Shorter Writing question: "Describe the best, and worst, meal you've had." Oh, Dear God, someone has it in for me! "Food" has to be, next to "Skateboarding" or "Youth Culture Today", the WORST topic I could be given. I can't write about food! My feelings of anticipation have, very suddenly, changed to those of absolute dread, and I will now be very glad to exit the exam hall.
Despite this, my overriding concern is failure. With my finals looming, it is imperative that I take this last opportunity to prove to my Girlfriend that I am capable of achieving an A*. At the end of the day, all I want is to see her face light up like a beacon on results day in August - it'd be the best entrance to 6th Form for both of us.
"It is 8:57. You may now begin." The booming voice of the Chief Invigilator* breaks my internal monologue, promptly reminding me that I am sat in an exam, and I hastily flip over the set texts, ready to face the music, or mock exam in this case. This is as bad as I imagined, I think as I scan the questions, racking my brain to remember exactly how I'm meant to answer the first one...
***1 hour 45 mins later ***
4 out of 6 questions complete, I feel fairly satisfied. This isn't going so bad, I thought, only the language analysis and the Longer Writing task to go. I hadn't really been keeping a check of the time, and I chose that moment to glance at my watch.
I slowly counted up the dots on my watch (mental maths had escaped me - come on, this is an English exam!). Again. And again. Then, I froze in horror: I have less than 30 minutes left to answer 1 hour 15 minutes worth of questions.
A small noise escapes my mouth, which earns me a death glare from 3 of the Invigilators patrolling the hall. Honestly, if looks could kill, I'd be 6 feet under!
Back to the crisis in hand, I am doomed for all eternity. "This is bad, very bad..." I panicked as I tried to revive the situation. My only option was to write, so I wrote down all the incoherent s*** that fell into my thoughts. A small gale was blowing across the hall at the speed my pen was moving; my desperation to get something, anything, down onto the exam paper. Heart pumping, hand racing, I could only dream that my efforts would be enough to rescue me from the sinking Titanic this exam had become...
***5 Days Later***
Walking into English the following Tuesday, my entire being is shaking with fear. "I've failed; I am such a failure" swims around my conscious, preventing any coherent thought from entering my head. I sit down with Beth and Georgie, unable to shake the anticipation ever building in my stomach.
A few moments later, my beautiful girlfriend enters the room gracefully, gently placing her rucksack on her desk. "I thought I put you in a seating plan last lesson. Move it!" she commands, authority evident in her voice. Uh-oh, we've not done well; back in November, she was all excited to hand back our results, and it looks like we haven't improved. This is going to be an interesting lesson.
Re-seated, I look up, and have to do a double take when my gaze searches out her face. Sat there, adoring her nose, is a pair of blue, thick rimmed glasses. My heart swoons; she looks like a sexy secretary. My face lights up, all sorts of naughty fantasies flashing through my mind involving this new accessory. I can't wait to quiz her about this...
I had lost track of the lesson, as suddenly my Mock paper is slapped in front of me. With no grade or mark on the front, I hastily whip out my calculator and add up the mark for each question. The total sends shockwaves through my being:
62. I've scored 62 out of 80. I THINK I HAVE SCORED AN A*!!! I let out a small squeal, unable to contain my excitement; I haven't failed her! Admittedly, I could've done a lot better, and I realise as I flick through the paper that spending 8 minutes on the 16 mark question isn't a good idea, as I have only scored half marks. On the plus side, I have proved to my Girlfriend that I am (just!) capable of scoring well, and I now can't wait to discuss the findings alone with her.
I look up, and my eyes meet those of the very woman I've been dreaming of. A small smile graces her features, and I decide to confirm my suspicion.
"Do you have the grade boundaries?" I ask innocently.
"Nope, not yet, I'll have them tomorrow so you'll have to wait for your result." she says with a smirk, eyes glinting with mirth.
"Cruel child," I retort half-jokingly, feeling slightly deflated. She laughs; like normal, the sound is music to my ears, and causes a small chuckle to escape my mouth, despite my annoyance.
Realising where we are, and that there is a lesson to be conducted, she clears her throat and resumes talking: "I'm sorry, this is going to be dull, but analysis of the Mock is imperative on you all achieving those A*s in the summer..." The word "dull" is my trigger to switch off, and I resume daydreaming about her, and specifically, her new glasses.
********
15 minutes to the bell, and pretty much the entire class has switched off. I catch a snippet of her lecture: "...systematically go through the text...” If I had a £1 for every time she says "systematically", then University fees would be paid off in no time! To spruce things up a little bit, I discreetly whip out my phone and begin to type:
***So, this is interesting...in other news, your glasses? For correcting vision, or simply turning me on? They really suit you, and you look very sexy...oh, I can think of plenty of games we can play with those ;) xxx***
Smirking, I hit "send", and her phone bleeps almost instantaneously. The rest of the class are copying down notes written on the board, which gives her the opportunity to check her messages. Reading it, she smiles, and then her eyebrows raise. Tapping quickly, she sends me a response before resuming teaching:
***Thanks sweetie, and yes, turns out I'm long-sighted, whatever that means, but apparently it explains why I struggle to read long documents! Anyway, you should be taking notes, just coz you've scored highly doesn't mean you can get complacent - your Q4 being point in question ;) xxx***
I laugh at her response, and start to respond again, when a raised voice echoes around the room:
"Williams," my girlfriend says sharply, catching the attention of the whole class. "Get off your phone and write this down," she continues, hitting the board with her pen. "Actually, give it here, and you can have it back at the end of the lesson." she finishes, her voice devoid of emotion, walking over to my desk with her hand outstretched. I reluctantly hand my phone over, and she places it on her desk, winking quickly as she resumes her lecture. I finally begin to work.
A few long-winded tours of the mark scheme later, the bell rings. As the rest of the class departs, I walk over to her desk. Georgie and Beth, pretty sure that a conversation they don't want to be privy to is about to take place, leave the room for Period 2; it's just my girlfriend and I left.
I was expecting a huge lecture about the "importance of GCSE year", and how I "can't afford to waste time (sex)ting her", but to my surprise she burst out laughing.
"Oh Abby," she says, slapping my arm with the coursework folder in her hand. "Seriously though, you can't sit there texting in my lesson - you do kinda need to keep learning, never mind what you got in the mock. When your result comes back in the summer, I don't just want an A*, I want your UMS** to show me you scored at least 70, because I know you're more than capable - are we agreed?" She finished, smiling. I reached over and kissed her soft, inviting lips gently, sealing the deal.
"In other news," I began as we departed the classroom "how do you answer Q4? I mean, I get how, I just can't do it right." I say, sighing.
"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself. You did great - how about, on our next "date", we'll do a bit of practice before the fun?" she says, comforting me.
"Yeah, what romantic foreplay!" I retort sarcastically. Laughing, we go our separate ways.
Just as I'm leaving, I catch the end of a new conversation:
"That Abby Williams, she's a real cutie, isn't she? I remember her being really diligent when I taught her. Beautiful too - I'm surprised she isn't dating anyone. Apparently, Cameron Lloyd tried his luck last week, but she wasn't having any of it!" Mrs Parris was saying, seeing my girlfriend gazing at my retreating form.
"Yeah, she's lovely," Sarah began, trying to keep her voice neutral, unable to suppress the warm, loving smile that escaped. This didn't go unnoticed by Mrs Parris, who then said:
"Earth to Sarah? Glad to see you’re still with us; you spaced out for a few minutes..."
I disappeared up the stairs as their conversation continued, unable get the smiling image of my girlfriend, with her new glasses on, out of my head. All I could hope is that, one day soon, I could get her to pull a very different face with the spectacles on...
A/N 2: Oooh, a bit of innuendo to finish there! Just to clarify: *Invigilator is a random person who wanders around the exam hall to make sure we're not cheating, and **UMS (Uniform Mark Scale) is just something they use to calculate the GCSE grade. GCSEs are the exams taken in the UK at 16 which basically decide your future, in case anyone wasn't aware - I apologise for the British-isms shining through, anything else anyone wants me to clarify, just ask! Till next time, Amiee xx
