My Young Ones
Chapter 4
Nate's P.O.V
I was barely dragging my feet to each class after I met Clarity and Darcy.
It's just so boring. I had Physics, yawn.. The topics we were about to learn, I have learnt. Then, I had History. Learned that too. And now here I am sitting in Mrs. Wellington's English class. At least this was a class that got me excited.
"POETRY." Mrs. W, I had learned she preferred to be called, announced. "What do we really know about Poetry?"
This had caught my attention. I loved poetry. I read them, wrote them, spoke them, and quoted them.
I finally looked up from scribbling in my binder notebook, which I had been doing all day so far, and gave interest in what Mrs. W was saying.
"People say poetry is the most boriiing thing on earth." A blonde chick snorted from upfront, everyone laughed.. Not me though.
"So is this class." A guy, this time, said loud enough for me to see the hurt in Ms. W's eyes. I felt bad for her because I didn't think she deserved any of this at all. Again, the whole class erupted in laughter as Ms. W got a book from her desk.
She cleared her throat, everyone stopped the laughter just a bit for her to speak.
"This is the book I want everyone to read," she raised the familiar book, her copy looked old and worn out.. Just like the one I have at home.
"Hemmingway?" I accidentally questioned out loud, now the laughter was clear. Silence overtook the classroom and all eyes were on me. This, I was sure of because I sat in the back row corner and that made everyone have to turn their bodies a full 360 degrees just to face him.
"Why, yes indeed. Mister..?" she trailed off looking at the class list.
"Horan." I heard a giggle from some girl upfront, probably the blonde chick or something. "Nate Horan."
"Oh, the new transfer.." she smiled, "Irish, I see."
I nod awkwardly, all focus was still on me.
"Nice to see a change around here." she spoke to no one indirectly, I suppose.
I was not quite sure if she meant a change in culture, since Im the only Irish one I heard or seen so far, or just a new face who actually knows poetry.
"Back to poetry.." she clapped her hands, everyone snapped their attention back to Mrs. W. A sigh of relief escaped thought my lips, I don't really like the lime light since its basically my life.
"The language of forbidden love.." I hear from the person beside me, her voice as soft as a feather. I couldn't see her face since her hoodie was pulled and she had her left hand support her weight of her head which kept her identity hidden.
Suddenly, the bell rung so loud that I wondered if the volume was just a trick of my hearing or it really just was. Everyone filed out of the classroom, including the mystery girl who escaped from his gaze when he tore it away from her when his name was called.
"Nate, is it?" Mrs.W asked again as she shuffled papers into a briefcase while seated on her desk, I drew closer for her to speak to me.
"Yes." I was lingering near the doorway now, eager to chase after the girl. "Is there a problem?"
"Oh no, no." she laughed lightly, "I just wanted to talk to you for a moment."
"Okay." I smile nicely, I was never a teacher's pet exactly but, I was always good to my past ones.
"I noticed that you're not new to the literary form of Poetry?" I nod. "That's wonderful!" Her London accent reminded me of Mary Poppins for some reason.
"Excuse me?" I was confused.
"It's just that," she now stood up, in this angle I had noticed she had a faint limp that was probably caused my arthritis. "Hemmingway is not usually known by your generation anymore."
"Friends say that I was actually born an old man." I joked, she chuckled.
"Well, I want you to know that I have a feeling that I might expect highly of you in my class. " she explained, "Thought I might warn you."
"No need for the warning." I replied, "But, thanks."
"Alright, you may go to lunch now. Sorry for keeping you." she dismissed me, I had said no problem at all and we were now on our separate ways.
I didn't even realize that it was already time for me to meet the rest of my family friends.
I was barely dragging my feet to each class after I met Clarity and Darcy.
It's just so boring. I had Physics, yawn.. The topics we were about to learn, I have learnt. Then, I had History. Learned that too. And now here I am sitting in Mrs. Wellington's English class. At least this was a class that got me excited.
"POETRY." Mrs. W, I had learned she preferred to be called, announced. "What do we really know about Poetry?"
This had caught my attention. I loved poetry. I read them, wrote them, spoke them, and quoted them.
I finally looked up from scribbling in my binder notebook, which I had been doing all day so far, and gave interest in what Mrs. W was saying.
"People say poetry is the most boriiing thing on earth." A blonde chick snorted from upfront, everyone laughed.. Not me though.
"So is this class." A guy, this time, said loud enough for me to see the hurt in Ms. W's eyes. I felt bad for her because I didn't think she deserved any of this at all. Again, the whole class erupted in laughter as Ms. W got a book from her desk.
She cleared her throat, everyone stopped the laughter just a bit for her to speak.
"This is the book I want everyone to read," she raised the familiar book, her copy looked old and worn out.. Just like the one I have at home.
"Hemmingway?" I accidentally questioned out loud, now the laughter was clear. Silence overtook the classroom and all eyes were on me. This, I was sure of because I sat in the back row corner and that made everyone have to turn their bodies a full 360 degrees just to face him.
"Why, yes indeed. Mister..?" she trailed off looking at the class list.
"Horan." I heard a giggle from some girl upfront, probably the blonde chick or something. "Nate Horan."
"Oh, the new transfer.." she smiled, "Irish, I see."
I nod awkwardly, all focus was still on me.
"Nice to see a change around here." she spoke to no one indirectly, I suppose.
I was not quite sure if she meant a change in culture, since Im the only Irish one I heard or seen so far, or just a new face who actually knows poetry.
"Back to poetry.." she clapped her hands, everyone snapped their attention back to Mrs. W. A sigh of relief escaped thought my lips, I don't really like the lime light since its basically my life.
"The language of forbidden love.." I hear from the person beside me, her voice as soft as a feather. I couldn't see her face since her hoodie was pulled and she had her left hand support her weight of her head which kept her identity hidden.
Suddenly, the bell rung so loud that I wondered if the volume was just a trick of my hearing or it really just was. Everyone filed out of the classroom, including the mystery girl who escaped from his gaze when he tore it away from her when his name was called.
"Nate, is it?" Mrs.W asked again as she shuffled papers into a briefcase while seated on her desk, I drew closer for her to speak to me.
"Yes." I was lingering near the doorway now, eager to chase after the girl. "Is there a problem?"
"Oh no, no." she laughed lightly, "I just wanted to talk to you for a moment."
"Okay." I smile nicely, I was never a teacher's pet exactly but, I was always good to my past ones.
"I noticed that you're not new to the literary form of Poetry?" I nod. "That's wonderful!" Her London accent reminded me of Mary Poppins for some reason.
"Excuse me?" I was confused.
"It's just that," she now stood up, in this angle I had noticed she had a faint limp that was probably caused my arthritis. "Hemmingway is not usually known by your generation anymore."
"Friends say that I was actually born an old man." I joked, she chuckled.
"Well, I want you to know that I have a feeling that I might expect highly of you in my class. " she explained, "Thought I might warn you."
"No need for the warning." I replied, "But, thanks."
"Alright, you may go to lunch now. Sorry for keeping you." she dismissed me, I had said no problem at all and we were now on our separate ways.
I didn't even realize that it was already time for me to meet the rest of my family friends.
@sickcurlsanduptightquiffs
Aww thanks, I hope you have a wonderful day to
1/31/14