I was twelve - still in school - when I found my gift. My curse. My
talent. My ability.
I was sitting in my desk next to the wall, head resting against it, not listening to the teacher, when I first discovered it. I was a bright child, they told my parents. I had always hated English. I wrote a good deal and knew everything they told me already.
I imagined what the teacher must think about me. She probably thought I was arrogant, that I was annoying, that perhaps she ought to do something about it. Go ahead, I thought. Quiz me, Miss Henders. Make a fool of yourself in front of us all.
It was September third, and I was longing to be outside. I could see only a sliver out of the window because of where I was sitting - green grass with heat rising off of it into a sky so cloudless that I could just -
I wish Xavier would pay more attention.
I looked up, but the teacher was still talking, obviously having said nothing. I must have fallen asleep, I thought, and rested my head against the wall. I watched Amy Henders now carefully, to make sure I didn't doze off again or -
He seems to think that he'll be fine on the quiz. I'll bet that he'll get a big shock when -
Her mouth wasn't moving. I looked around, at Ian on my left and Mary behind me. They were watching Miss Henders, Ian looking thoroughly confused.
"- will be reviewing participles and tenses, and Mr. Xavier please turn around."
Face reddening as she stopped speaking, looking at me, I was aware that the rest of the students were smiling or even chuckling at me.
"Do you have a problem, Mr. Xavier?"
I shifted in my seat. "No, Miss Henders."
"You seem to be having trouble paying attention." I could hear the annoyance in her voice, but also in her mind - Looks like this one might mean trouble. I concentrated hard, sure that I was sleeping and that any minute now I would be rudely awoken, and thought at her. Ask me if I want to go to the tenth grade room. There, I was sure that they were learning things I hadn't learned in the first grade. The school had four rooms - one for five-year-olds through nine-year-olds, the 'first grade room', although it housed up to third graders. There was also the room for fourth through sixth graders - the 'fourth grade room' - and for seventh through ninth, which I occupied now - and for tenth through twelfth. I was amused by my daydreams - I had four years until I'd be in the tenth grade room - and opened my mouth to apologize when she spoke again.
"Do you want to go to the tenth grade room?"
I was sitting in my desk next to the wall, head resting against it, not listening to the teacher, when I first discovered it. I was a bright child, they told my parents. I had always hated English. I wrote a good deal and knew everything they told me already.
I imagined what the teacher must think about me. She probably thought I was arrogant, that I was annoying, that perhaps she ought to do something about it. Go ahead, I thought. Quiz me, Miss Henders. Make a fool of yourself in front of us all.
It was September third, and I was longing to be outside. I could see only a sliver out of the window because of where I was sitting - green grass with heat rising off of it into a sky so cloudless that I could just -
I wish Xavier would pay more attention.
I looked up, but the teacher was still talking, obviously having said nothing. I must have fallen asleep, I thought, and rested my head against the wall. I watched Amy Henders now carefully, to make sure I didn't doze off again or -
He seems to think that he'll be fine on the quiz. I'll bet that he'll get a big shock when -
Her mouth wasn't moving. I looked around, at Ian on my left and Mary behind me. They were watching Miss Henders, Ian looking thoroughly confused.
"- will be reviewing participles and tenses, and Mr. Xavier please turn around."
Face reddening as she stopped speaking, looking at me, I was aware that the rest of the students were smiling or even chuckling at me.
"Do you have a problem, Mr. Xavier?"
I shifted in my seat. "No, Miss Henders."
"You seem to be having trouble paying attention." I could hear the annoyance in her voice, but also in her mind - Looks like this one might mean trouble. I concentrated hard, sure that I was sleeping and that any minute now I would be rudely awoken, and thought at her. Ask me if I want to go to the tenth grade room. There, I was sure that they were learning things I hadn't learned in the first grade. The school had four rooms - one for five-year-olds through nine-year-olds, the 'first grade room', although it housed up to third graders. There was also the room for fourth through sixth graders - the 'fourth grade room' - and for seventh through ninth, which I occupied now - and for tenth through twelfth. I was amused by my daydreams - I had four years until I'd be in the tenth grade room - and opened my mouth to apologize when she spoke again.
"Do you want to go to the tenth grade room?"