Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly. Also, I don't speak any Spanish at all. All the Spanish in this entire story is thanks to Google translator.
"La tarea está en la página ciento siete. El examen final tendrá lugar el jueves. Estás despedido." (R/T: The homework is on page one hundred seven. The finale exam is on Thursday. You may leave.) Señorita Schott told us, while grading papers. I had absolutely no idea what she said. My Spanish to mostly limited to hola and si, even though I've been in the class for half the year. Yikes.
It had something to do with leaving, because everyone else started to gather their things and head out the door. I jumped up, and started to get mine together.
It couldn't wait to get out of here. It was Friday, and only one more bell until the weekend.
"Sam? Can I see you for a minute?" Señorita Schott called across the room me.
Oh, please. Let this be quick. I just want to get out of here. I thought as I crossed the room. I started to consider making a break for it, since the door was only about three steps away, and was wide open but seeing the look on Señorita's face told me that was probably the worst idea I could have.
"Sam, you're not going to pass Spanish." Her voice cut through me like ice, her eyes like daggers. She looked frightening.
"What do you mean? I'm gonna pass Spanish." My voice was shaky. I wished this conversation over more than anything. Señorita was my favorite teacher. All my other teachers just gave up on me after a few weeks. Señorita actually tried to help me.
"No, you're not. You never turn in your homework and you don't do well on the test."
"So? I'm not very good at Spanish." I shifted from foot to foot, inching closer to door. If she turned around for a few seconds, I could probably make a break for it.
She sighed, walked over and pulled the door –and my one hope of escape- closed. So much for that brilliant plan.
"To be able to pass Spanish you'd have to get at least a C on the final exam. That would be just if you want to pass, not if you want to do well. To do well, you would have to get an A."
"And if I don't? Get a C, I mean."
"If you don't, then you 're going to have to retake Spanish, and I know that's something you don't want to do. Here's a list of things that are going to be on the test. I'd suggest my tutoring." She slid a sheet of paper over to me.
"Tutoring? Isn't that like school after school?" Thanks, but no, thanks. That sounds horrible and boring. I slipped the paper in my bag, not intending to use it. Now, to get out of here, I thought, thinking up anyway I could quickly end the conversation.
"That's better than school during summer, isn't it?" She shrugged.
"WHAT?" My head shot up, all thoughts of escape plans gone. For the first time in months, my attention was fully on my Spanish teacher.
"Yeah. If you don't pass, you'll have to retake this class during summer school. That'd put a major downer on your summer." She pulled a sheet of paper out of her desk. "So, want me to sign you up for my after school tutoring? It's on Tuesday and Wednesday from three to five. Because, to be frank, that is the only way or even going to come close to passing."
"No, I'm good. I can get a C, by myself." I glared at her, putting heavy meaning on the last two words. I'm Sam Puckett, damn it! I don't need anyone's help getting a C or any other grade. I don't need help from anyone to do anything! "When's the test?"
"Thursday. Here's a late pass for your next class. See you Monday, Sam. " She looked disappointed, but she sounded almost… pleased?
That bitch wants me to fail! I thought as I left the room. I can't believe I actually liked her. Well, I've got to get a C now. I just got to study… I pulled the sheet out of my bag and gave it the once over. …twenty-three topics by next Thursday. Okay, maybe I can't do everything without help. But this is school. It doesn't count. I'm think gonna need a tutor.
I actually considered going back in and signing up, but something told me not to. Maybe it was the way she spoke to me, but I decided then and there that there was no way in hell I would sign up for her after-school tutoring. I'd find someone else to teach me. Instead, I turned on heel and went to my next bell, English. Thankfully, Carly has it at the same time, so I don't have to worry about paying attention.
When I got there, Ms. Briggs already had a detention slip all written out for me. Showing her the pass –and seeing her disappointed face- lifted my mood a little, but not much. Sitting next to Carly, my mind drifted back to the dilemma at hand.
I CAN'T fail Spanish! No one fails Spanish! I said, thinking of all the retests and extra-credit she had given that I had never done. I'll just need a tutor.
"Huh? What are you talking about? Why would you need a tutor?" Carly was giving me a strange look. I guess I said the last part aloud.
"Oh, umm. Nothing. Just thinking aloud." I glanced around. Everyone was leaving. "Whoa, is class over? Sweet. I have to go study Sp… ace." I finished. I didn't really want Carly to know I wasn't passing Spanish. She wouldn't make fun of me, but she also wouldn't get it. Carly is pretty much perfect. I'm sure there is nothing SHE isn't passing.
Carly was really giving me a strange look now.
"Just kidding! Like I'd study. Come on, let's get Fredfreak and get out of here."
I grabbed my books and jumped up, thankful for an excuse to get off school grounds when it hit me.
FREDWEIRD SPOKE SPANISH. I slowed my pace, thoughts dancing happily in my mind. He'll teach me, I'll pass and then never have to deal with Señorita Bitch again. I was riding a get-a-C-quick high when I noticed the flaw in my otherwise prefect plan.
Getting Freddie to tutor me? That would mean telling him I'm not passing Spanish. If I wasn't tell Carly, no way I was EVER telling Benson.
Okay, minor set back. I just need a way to make him tutor me without having him know that I'm not passing Spanish. That could actually be an issue. Shit. Thoughts were dancing in my mind again, just not happily.
"Sam! Sam, wait up!" Carly stopped beside me, panting a little. Oops, I guess I forgot about her. "So, why were you late? Were you trying to skip and got caught again?" She said with a slight laugh. Carly found my exploits humorous, as she would put it.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was. The art teacher caught me, though. That's how I got my pass." Good explanation. Hey! Maybe if I can think up some convincing lie, then I can I get Freddie to teach me, and he never has to know I'm not passing Spanish. I thought, smiling as the ideas of what to say forming in my mind.
"You got caught by Mr. Gonskitz? How?" Freddie said, giving Carly his favorite please-love-me smile. He just scowled at me. No surprises there.
"I just did, okay? I'm not proud of it. " I muttered, trying to sound angry even thought the idea seemed absurd, even to me. Mr. G is pretty nice, but he's also blind as a bat, and probably deaf. I doubt he could catch me, even if I was right in front of him. How he got the position as art teacher is beyond me.
"Princess, I think your sneaking skills are deteriorating. I could get past him with a blowhorn while riding an elephant." Freddie flashed me his signature I-hate-you smile, using his nickname for me. He knew I hated the nickname – it wasn't me. I don't need some fairytale dream to dictate how I live my life. No prince is going to come and sweep me off my feet as we ride away to his castle.
"Whatever." I said, pushing past them. If I didn't need his help, I would hurt him so badly. I thought as I pushed open the doors and left school.
Not my best, but it could be worse, I think. I like the way I ended it, though. Anyway, I'll probably get inspired and write faster if you leave me a review... I get even more inspired if you hate it, then tell me what you hate about it. I'm can't get any better if I don't know what's wrong, can I?
That's right. :) anyway, thanks for reading and drop me a review!
