Mrs. Boyd came into the classroom thirteen minutes late. When she breezed through the door, the whole room audibly groaned.
There was a rumor that if a teacher was more than fifteen minutes late, the students could sign a piece of paper to show that they’d been in class. After that, they could leave. No one really knew if this was actually true, but that didn’t stop them from believing it. When Mrs. Boyd was ten minutes late, they’d begun to get hopeful that today was the day they’d find out. And with each passing moment, they’d gotten more and more excited. But when Mrs. Boyd walked in the room with just two minutes to go, their hopes had been dashed.
When she got to the desk, Mrs. Boyd slipped out of her long green trenchcoat and set it over the back of her chair, revealing a bright pink shirt and a blue and green paisley skirt. Still slowly getting ready for class and unaware that most of the students were now feeling almost hostile towards her, Mrs. Boyd opened up her book and glanced casually at the clock.
“Oh, my.” she said when she realized the time. “Looks like I’m late today!”
There were a few snickers, and someone behind Anna muttered angrily, “Aren’t you always?” Again, Mrs. Boyd simply didn’t notice. Instead, she met the cold stares with a look of joy.
Since class was supposed to have started fifteen minutes ago, Anna had been sure Mrs. Boyd would get right to business. Instead, she addressed the class by saying, “I hope you’re all going to the football game tonight. My son’s on the team, and he’ll be playing. He’s the catcher, which is a very important position! I’m going to be there, and I hope to see you all there supporting him too!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Anna saw a hand shoot up. She looked over and saw that it belonged to one of the more obnoxious kids in her class – a rather stocky boy with a perpetually smug expression on his face. Mrs. Boyd looked over at him and said pleasantly, “Yes, Jeff?”
Despite the fact that Anna thought Jeff was annoying, she knew he wasn’t stupid. He’d been listening to Mrs. Boyd and had decided to seize the opportunity to mock her, and – with any luck – he’d also be able to keep class from starting for just that much longer. Even Anna had learned by now that most kids felt the shorter the class, the less likely they'd have homework.
“I didn’t know your son was a wide receiver,” he said. He emphasized the words “wide receiver” enough to point out to the class that Mrs. Boyd was ignorant and earn a few snickers, but apparently not enough for Mrs. Boyd herself to notice. If anything, she got even happier at the chance to talk about her son.
“Oh yes, he is. And, he’s very good – he’s one of the best players on the whole team!”
Mrs. Boyd paused for a moment to catch her breath and reorient herself. Then, after getting her bearings back, she swept the room with a quick glance and asked, “Did everyone bring their books to class today?”
Jeff sighed, realizing his plan hadn’t worked. A few kids slowly raised their hands. Mrs. Boyd looked at them sympathetically and said, “Alright. Go get them. But don’t forget next time!”
The students nodded vaguely as they hurried out of the room. Turning back to the class, Mrs. Boyd sighed contentedly. “All right…open your books to page 245…”
You Were What You Eat Page 22
