part 5 {rach}

“We’ll see,” Mr. Vostras said. “Eliana, tell your teacher that I would be most delighted to join your class. But I would like more information, so you may have her call. Not during my yoga classes, though, make sure you tell her that.”
“Sure, Daddy,” Eliana said.
“Good. Now run along.” Mr. Vostras turned back to his artwork and began to clean some paintbrushes.
The three children climbed back down the stairs and Eliana said goodbye to her friends at the door. “See you tomorrow!” she called as they headed across the street to their own home.

Eliana awoke early on Friday morning. I wonder why they always say “bright and early”, she wondered. Whenever you get up early, it’s not even bright outside. She rummaged through her drawers and donned a short-sleeved shirt and her gym shorts. Her backpack, which she had packed the night before, was sitting by the front door waiting for her. Eliana slipped downstairs quietly – Mr. and Mrs. Vostras were still asleep – and grabbed a protein bar from the pantry. Tossing her backpack over her shoulder and grabbing the car keys, she headed out the door.
Eliana was always early to her classes. She would arrive at the same time as her homeroom teacher, Mr. Beckman, and set everything up at her desk. Two pencils, one black pen, one red pen, a ruler, and eraser and a stapler. Then Eliana would pull a small clipboard out of her backpack and write out that day’s to-do list while she waited for her classmates. That was how she did thing every morning.
Just as the bell was ringing, seventeen other teenagers poured into Eliana’s homeroom. Each one took a seat at a desk, hurrying to get everything ready while chatting amongst themselves. Hayden took his seat at the other side of the room, smiling at Eliana. She crossed her eyes, making him laugh.
“Quiet everyone!” Mr. Beckman barked. The class came to order immediately. Everyone knew that when Mr. Beckman spoke, he meant business.
“Emma, take that candy bar off your desk. Donald, loose the sunglasses. Is everyone ready to begin?”
The entire 11th grade class at Gregson High School leaned forward, pencils at the ready. Mr. Beckman inhaled deeply, then began rattling off the day’s assignments. Pencils scribbled frantically. One kid in the front row nearly had a heart attack because the lead on his pencil broke and he didn’t have a spare one ready.
When he finished speaking, Mr. Beckman took a long breath, his arms crossed. “Who would like to recite back to me the happenings of third period?” he asked.
Almost everyone raised their hands. “Brandon?” Mr. Beckman said, calling on a lanky boy with long brown hair that practically covered his entire face. Brandon was one of the few students who had not raised his hand. Everyone at Gregson High School knew that if you raised your hand, Mr. Beckman would NOT call on you. Brandon, being fairly new, had not yet discovered this, and simply thought that Mr. Beckman needed to get his eyesight checked.
“I think we’re supposed to pick up some type of folder at the office,” Brandon mumbled.
“Only partially correct, young man,” Mr. Beckman said, “but you must be specific! You are to pick up a folder containing your science report assignments for the coming semester. And you are to pick this folder up at Mrs. Daxtroperdip’s office, not the principal’s office, do I make myself clear?”
The class nodded.“DISMISSED!” Mr. Beckman yelled at the top of his lungs, making Brandon jump.

By the way, I require AT LEAST five comments before my wonderful partner Libby will post the next section.

And, to quote the famous and brilliant Mr. Mark Twain, "Denial is not simply a river in Egypt." Very profound. I utterly agree with him.

Goodbye.