: P Sorry for my first Indy fic.... It really stunk, huh? Ah, well...here it
goes again!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First day of school... How in the world did it happen? It seemed only yesterday that you were climbing in Bryce Canyon, watching out for rattlesnakes (ugh) and mountain lions. Not that you ever really saw anything, but it was still fun to look for treasure. But now you were back in high school, and nothing was going right. First day of school, and you get into a fight. First day of school, people are calling you "Wild Woman" again. And the teachers! Ms. Bleak takes one glance around the room, sees you, and announces in that drawling monotone that the most flighty student is back at school– then makes you come to the front of the classroom and take a bow. Mr. Mortimer with his cruel gray eyes and ugly hooked nose telling you not to treat Miss. Holly Militiaman like toxic when it's really the other way around. Holly herself coming up to you and telling you your family is no better than slime and you losing your temper and hitting her... all in a day's work. But the last class– History– was approaching, and everyone said that Dr. Jones was the most handsome and intelligent teacher in the whole school. You sigh, wondering if it's really true. Last History teacher left you in the doldrums. No real study of Renaissance or the Ancient times. All about how Professor Dormancy got his certificates. Hopefully, Dr. Jones would actually talk about History....
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When you look into the classroom, you're not surprised to find yourself late, but you are surprised to find that class has already started. Usually you're able to slip in unperturbed, but now the only thing you hear is Dr. Jones' voice– which abruptly stops when you walk in. "Hello?" Jones asks quizzically. "Hey." You grin at your friends who wave. Dr. Jones has a right to be surprised. Not a lot of girls wear jeans and their hair long. You approach the table and tell Jones your name. "Well, maybe you can tell me why you're late." His clear blue eyes are still puzzled. You start to squirm. Why did he have to ask? WHY? "Um...er..." You fidget with the pencils stuck in your binder. "Well...." Jones looks politely confused. "Uh, I could just tell you my dog ate my homework...but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't take that...." The class giggles quietly. "Um, I guess I'll tell you what really happened then." You take a deep breath. Dr. Jones settles back in his chair, waiting to be amused. "Well, Mrs. Brusque was out today, and I was the last kid in line...someone bumped me and... and..." You hide your face in your hands. "I spilled her ink all over her desk." Sniggers erupt around the classroom. Jones' corners of his mouth do the smallest of spasms. You take another calming breath, very aware of the color creeping into your cheeks. "So... I tried cleaning it up." The class is absolutely still. "With– with the American flag on the wall and a couple of squishy blackboard erasers." The class roars with laughter. Dr. Jones' mouth twitches visibly. "It worked!" you say grimace/smiling. The class is now almost rolling in their seats. "The desk is now ink free, but the squishy erasers. ..." It sounds like an explosion rocked the room. This class might not be so bad...
First day of school... How in the world did it happen? It seemed only yesterday that you were climbing in Bryce Canyon, watching out for rattlesnakes (ugh) and mountain lions. Not that you ever really saw anything, but it was still fun to look for treasure. But now you were back in high school, and nothing was going right. First day of school, and you get into a fight. First day of school, people are calling you "Wild Woman" again. And the teachers! Ms. Bleak takes one glance around the room, sees you, and announces in that drawling monotone that the most flighty student is back at school– then makes you come to the front of the classroom and take a bow. Mr. Mortimer with his cruel gray eyes and ugly hooked nose telling you not to treat Miss. Holly Militiaman like toxic when it's really the other way around. Holly herself coming up to you and telling you your family is no better than slime and you losing your temper and hitting her... all in a day's work. But the last class– History– was approaching, and everyone said that Dr. Jones was the most handsome and intelligent teacher in the whole school. You sigh, wondering if it's really true. Last History teacher left you in the doldrums. No real study of Renaissance or the Ancient times. All about how Professor Dormancy got his certificates. Hopefully, Dr. Jones would actually talk about History....
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When you look into the classroom, you're not surprised to find yourself late, but you are surprised to find that class has already started. Usually you're able to slip in unperturbed, but now the only thing you hear is Dr. Jones' voice– which abruptly stops when you walk in. "Hello?" Jones asks quizzically. "Hey." You grin at your friends who wave. Dr. Jones has a right to be surprised. Not a lot of girls wear jeans and their hair long. You approach the table and tell Jones your name. "Well, maybe you can tell me why you're late." His clear blue eyes are still puzzled. You start to squirm. Why did he have to ask? WHY? "Um...er..." You fidget with the pencils stuck in your binder. "Well...." Jones looks politely confused. "Uh, I could just tell you my dog ate my homework...but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't take that...." The class giggles quietly. "Um, I guess I'll tell you what really happened then." You take a deep breath. Dr. Jones settles back in his chair, waiting to be amused. "Well, Mrs. Brusque was out today, and I was the last kid in line...someone bumped me and... and..." You hide your face in your hands. "I spilled her ink all over her desk." Sniggers erupt around the classroom. Jones' corners of his mouth do the smallest of spasms. You take another calming breath, very aware of the color creeping into your cheeks. "So... I tried cleaning it up." The class is absolutely still. "With– with the American flag on the wall and a couple of squishy blackboard erasers." The class roars with laughter. Dr. Jones' mouth twitches visibly. "It worked!" you say grimace/smiling. The class is now almost rolling in their seats. "The desk is now ink free, but the squishy erasers. ..." It sounds like an explosion rocked the room. This class might not be so bad...