Marching On The Club Book 3

Chapter 18

Chapter 18
It was fourth period just before lunch in my Chinese 2 class. The class didn't feel the same as last year. I was just in there; almost invisible from most if not half of the class. Half of the class paid attention to the teacher, the other half either had their phones out or they were sitting with their friends in class talking. "Everybody tell us what has changed," the teacher said. My heart dropped from my chest. 'She knows that something has changed! She knows! Oh please don't call me out,' I pleaded in my head.
  "Let's start on this side, Nic tell me what has changed!"
  Nic didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. Nic seemed to not be paying any attention.
"Nic! Nic! Oh, Nic!"
"What?"
  "What has changed?"
  "Wait, what do you mean what has changed?"
The half of the class that didn't pay attention laughed at Nic. "Next, Djion!"
"We don't have fun anymore! This class is so boring," he said as if that's the only thing he cared about. He's one of those people who doesn't even pay attention! All he does is just talks to his buddy Johnny who just happens to sit right behind him everyday.
  "Johnny, what has changed?"
  "Basically, what he said! You took my words Djion!"
"Okay, Jennifer, tell us what has changed."
  'Oh,' I cussed in my head. 'What do I say?' There was a dead silence for half a minute.
"Jennifer, what has changed?"
"Just the environment," I said not wanting to say anything further to make anyone in the class angry at me or hurting their feelings.
  "The environment? Of what?"
"The classroom."
"And how has the environment of the classroom changed?"
  'Oh no! Don't blow it Jennifer,' I thought to myself. Tears started to form in my eyes.
  "It's more stressful," I said tearfully.
'Oh great, now the whole class is going to laugh at me! Because crying to them is a sign of weakness! I must not show it,' I thought to myself as I tried fighting the tears that were already forming in my eyes.
  "Why is the classroom stressful?"
  'How much information do you want out of me women?'
  "The. Classmates," I sighed as some tears streamed down my face feeling embarrassed.
  "The classmates what?"
  "They don't care. About. Their education," I said tearfully but I was also trying to calm down. I took deep breaths as I tried to continue to fight the tears.
  "She's a baby!"
"Jennifer are you alright," Alexandra asked me who was sitting right next to me. I held up one finger indicating that I'll answer her question in one minute for I was trying to recover my breath. The teacher moved on to a different student to ask them what has changed in the class, and what she can do to help others learn. Since we had a little over 15 minutes left until lunch, and we weren't doing anything else in that class I decided to talk to Alexandra a little bit in class. It was going to take the rest of the class for Mrs. Mei to get to everyone with her question. "I'm okay," I said as the last of my tears streamed down my face. "It's okay," she reassured me. My face and eyes turned red from crying and I got a little upset mentally at Mrs. Mei for asking me the questions and pushing me in the direction I didn't want to go. Before the bell rang for lunch, I hugged Alexandra feeling at least a little better.
Timothy. He thinks he's the boss of everyone in the class, and he thinks that he makes the rules.
I strolled into my Chinese class.
"MRS. MEI, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO TODAY," Timothy projected.
"HEY YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TALK ABOUT THAT STUFF IN CLASS!!!"
  "Ok Timothy, calm down," Mrs. Mei answered sternly.
  "YOUR MOM," Miles shouted back.
  "Ohhhhhhh!"
'Why did Timothy out of everyone had to ruin my favorite class of the day?'
William got set up with his instrument. I was already set up in the center of the room with my instrument. I didn't notice William in the room. Timothy grabbed his instrument and sat two chairs next to William. Dylan sat in between William and Timothy with his instrument staring blankly into space. "We have a guest, and his name is William," Mr. Smith said pointing at the left side of the room. I looked wide eyed to where William was sitting in the band room at the end of the row on the third risor. I recognize his face sitting next to Dylan.
  "We don't have a bassoonist."
  'Why mention this when we haven't had a bassoonist in all of my high school career,' I asked myself.
  "If we had a bassoonist in this class from one of the high schoolers then it would surely help out the middle school bassoonist player," he said.
'Ah, I see. You want a high schooler to play bassoon to be kind of a role model for the middle schooler who plays bassoon,' I thought to myself.
"I play bassoon," Timothy said when no one else in the band room spoke. He spoke in his normal voice; clearly not yelling at anyone in the room. But we could still clearly hear him no matter where you were in the room. 'Surprised that he actually uses his normal voice instead of yelling and shouting his lungs out!'
  "Do ya? That would be great. But as much as we need bassoon players; we need trombone players," Mr. Smith replied.
"SHUT UP," Timothy later shouted across the room.
  "Why are we talking in trombone land," Mr. Smith asked.
"Dylan was talking!"
  "Shh!"
"He was!"
William still hushed him.
  "Don't tell me what to do! You're not my dad!"
  "Timothy, come in my office!"
  "Why am I in trouble? Why not throw 'William,' in your office? He's the," he cussed.  "Bag!"
'Now he said it! I swear one day I'll kill that kid!'
  My face turned red as hell. I felt sorry for William for he did nothing wrong. He was just trying to stay out of trouble. 'I. Hate. Timothy.'
"I'm going to join the marching band," I heard him say out loud once in band class. 'You will not survive ten seconds out in the practice field!' I just wanted to punch him really bad. But I didn't want to at the same time. I mean, what good will it do? It would do nothing other than get me in trouble.
  "I want to march the sousaphone!"
  "No, I want to be in guard!"
  "No wait! I want to march baritone!"
"Ugh," I sighed without him noticing.
'Will you please just make up your mind?'
'You are not marching in my section! No; please don't let him march in my section, please don't let him march in my section! Please! Don't! Let him! March! In my! SECTION,' I thought, panicking silently.