This idea randomly drilled itself inside my skull... so here you go!
Disclaimer: I do not own the dolls, and I will put them back into their box when I am done. (Dolls meaning characters and stuff... I think?)
Oh, and the classroom is modeled exactly like my AP World History class, except put into literature class form. I would have modeled it after my literature class, but my lit teacher is named Mr. Jones and I didn't want to confuse people.
Crash!
Alex's head hit the desk he was sitting at, waking him immediately. "Owwww..." he mumbled, then looked up to see the rest of his class staring at him.
Tom had warned him multiple times that one day after falling asleep with his head propped up on his hand, his elbow would slip off the desk and that would happen. But did the great Alex Rider listen to his friend? Of course not.
Some girl started giggling and soon the whole class was laughing. "I'm so glad you joined our class once again, Mr. Rider," Mr. Gagnon(1), Alex's literature teacher commented with an amused smile on his face.
"Sorry," Alex said, straightening in his chair.
"Getting back on subject," Mr. Gagnon said, getting the attention of the now off-task students. "We were discussing the term paper for the third quarter.
"I decided to give you guys a little break from all the work and do something fun!" The class gave an involuntary groan. Anything fun for Mr. Gagnon involved more work for the students (AN: It's true!).
"Now, now. Not only fun for me, but also fun for you!" He threw the roll of masking tape he was carrying around into the air and caught it again. The class seemed to perk up. Something fun for the students? It was unheard of.
"As in, like no paper?" a student asked.
"Ah, not quite," Mr. Gagnon replied. "You are going to write a biography!" The classes enthusiasm seemed to be lacking compared to what Mr. Gagnon was expecting.
"Oh, come on. It can be about anyone! Even yourself!" The class seemed to be a little more interested.
"Can I write one about you?" the same student from before asked (2).
"Ha, ha, no. My after-school study sessions are for your use in the class, not an interview time."
"I wouldn't need to interview you, I already know everything I need to."
"Riiiiiight. Like what?"
"Like you're married and you have a daughter named Zoe and a brother who's a priest who used to be a Satan worshiper and you fractured his skull as a child for trying to beat up your other younger brother."
"And," a girl (3) broke in, "you dressed up as prince charming to take Zoe trick-or-treating for Halloween, and you enjoy stealing toys from your students. Like my duck!!"
"That's not nearly enough for the paper. Oh, by the way, the paper has to be three to five pages." the class groaned again. "Come on guys, I am being nice here."
Alex sat in deep thought. He decided he would write an autobiography since he didn't feel like researching anyone's life. That posed one problem. He just happened to be a spy.
When school let out, Alex headed straight for home to start on his paper that was due in a week.
He had a dilemma. He couldn't write about the truth, but it wouldn't be a true autobiography then. He sighed and got to work:
'I was born to Helen and John Rider. They died in a plane crash when I was little. My uncle Ian took me in. He worked for the bank. He also died. This time it was a car crash.
'Now I live with Jack Starbright. She was our housekeeper and an American student. She's cool and we get on together. Sometimes, I miss the closeness that my uncle and I shared. We would go on trips to go mountain climbing and stuff like that.'
Alex added more to embellish his life, exaggerating on the extreme trips he and his uncle would go on.
Feeling like he wasn't lacking in his paper, he finished his other homework, ate dinner, and went to sleep.
Friday rolled around and Alex handed in his printed copy of his autobiography.
The next Monday, he got his paper back. He immediately felt his heart fall. He hadn't even written a passing paper. 'See me after class,' was scrawled on a post-it note stuck to the first page next to the dreaded grade.
All too soon, the bell rang and students poured out of the classroom leaving Alex and Mr. Gagnon by themselves.
"What was wrong with my paper?" he asked.
"Well," Mr. Gagnon said, "for one, your sentence structure was lacking and the sentences did not flow well at all. Two, I don't think you were completely honest about your life."
Alex felt a growing feeling of dread. "What?"
"Well, you are gone sporadically for months on end and nothing in your report even talks about your life after your uncles passed other than you live with Jack. No where did you talk about how you coped with these deaths, or explain your huge absences."
Alex relaxed a little bit. Mr. Gagnon didn't know anything about MI6 after all.
"I feel you have more potential for this. I'll give you until Friday to rewrite this into something honest and, frankly, more interesting. And be aware, this paper better be good because I don't ever let kids rewrite term papers."
"Okay," Alex agreed.
"Have a good afternoon, Alex."
"Bye, Mr. Gagnon."
Alex sat at his computer ready to punch something. How could he explain his absences? And what was he going to say about getter over Ian's death? I never really did, because all his missions took his mind off of them.
He bit his lip, fingers poised over the keys, ready to type whatever came into his head.
Honesty? Well, if Mr. Gagnon wanted honesty, honesty was what he was going to get.
'Spying is in my blood. Both my father and uncle worked for MI6, and that brought about their deaths...'
His fingers typed furiously, spilling out truth after truth. He knew this would have repercussions, but at the moment, he just didn't care.
The next day, he turned it in, dreading what Mr. Gagnon would say about it.
Thursday after the bell rang, he got his paper back. His grade was brought up dramatically, for 'creativity,' which Mr. Gagnon scrawled on the back of the essay. 'Remember,' it said. 'You still have until Friday.'
Alex felt like punching something once again. He threw the paper in the trash bin and stalked out of the classroom. He would keep the grade, he didn't care. He was probably going to fail the class anyways because of his increased absences.
A small, wiry, nerdy-looking kid named Anthony watched as Alex threw the paper into the bin. As soon as Alex was gone, he crept over to the trash can and took the paper out of it. Anthony stuck the paper into his messenger bag and went home, intent on writing more of his horror stories once he got there.
Heh. Heh. Did anyone get the last part?
Anyways, please review!!
(1) Mr Gagnon, pronounced 'gone yo' is actually the name of my history teacher who is super-cool. The only thing different about their personalities is the subject, I swear... and the fact that he would never assign a biography as a term paper. I couldn't remember if Alex's literature teacher ever was named and I was far too lazy to go look.
(2) Yes, this is also modeled after a kid in my history class.
(3) This girl is modeled after me. Mr. Gagnon did steal my duck and he did go trick-or-treating as prince charming with his cute little daughter.