I hummed softly, waiting for the bell to ring and adjourn Algebra class. Mr. Jeffries was seriously making very little sense. The board was covered with formula upon formula in his scribbly handwriting. I squinted at the formulas and tried to understand. I looked at them over and over, trying to work them out. After 10 minutes of a combination of working out problems by hand and looking in my textbook, I understood it. Now I was squinting at the board, trying to see the connection between the ancient Greek my teacher had written and the actual procedure.

"Christopher!"

My head snapped up out of habit. When I realized that it wasn't me, I lowered it again.

"Solve for x- 4x equals 5 times 5 in parentheses to the 4th power plus 15 squared."

Oh man, that was a bitch.

"Oh, um…"

The whole class started snickering. Not in the nice way. Why were they laughing at him? I bet more than half of those kids can't even answer this question!

"Elizabeth?"

I winced. I hated my first name, as well as the question I knew he was about to ask.

"Can you solve it for us?"

I hated being put on the spot. And I wasn't going to be a show-off.

"No." I said evenly

He stared at me. "Sorry?"

"No can do. I can't solve it."

One of the preps from the View giggled with her friends. Then she raised her hand high and waved it around in the air so much it looked like her arm was falling off.

Bitch.

"Mr. Jeffries? The answer is ninety-seven thousand, seven hundred twelve and five tenths." What?! That was way off!

She flashed me a fake smile, then turned back to her friends, giggling again. Super bitch. The bell rang, and I gathered my stuff together and got up.

"Elizabeth? I'd like to see you for a second."

I sighed and walked over to his desk, my stomach doing little belly-flops. Ugh, bad pun. Even if I had refused to answer a question, he wasn't going to give me a detention for it, was he? Was he?

"You knew that answer, didn't you?" It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes sir."

"Why didn't you answer it?"

"I guess I just didn't feel much like it."

"I see." He leaned back in his chair. "Feel much like what? Answering the question or showing off?"

"What?" The question confused me.

He sighed. "I've seen how the majority of the school treats Christopher Chambers. I'm not blind."

This was really confusing me. If he was truly bothered about how everyone else treated Chris, why did he call on somebody else to correct his answer and cause him more embarrassment?

Why did he call on me?

"Christopher is having a little trouble in Algebra. I was wondering if you'd be so kind to help him."

I gawked at him. I was getting a low B in this class. That just stood to prove that I would be a lousy teacher.

"Me? Mr. Jeffries, I'm certainly not the smartest kid in this class…"

"But you are one of the smartest," He cut me off. "And you don't seem to… share the views of the majority of this school when it comes to Christopher."

So that question was a… test?

"So you were testing me when you called on me in class today?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll help him."

I still had enough time to get to English class. Today was Friday. Friday… Friday… why does that ring a bell? Friday… English. The composition. The 'summertime' theme! I had forgotten all about the composition. Which luckily- in my case- didn't mean that I had forgotten to write it as well. I pulled it out of my folder and handed it to Mr. White, relieved that we didn't have to read ours aloud.

We had to read something by Charles Dickens today and a book report was due next Friday. I didn't like book reports. Well, then again, I used to hate compositions… and I had actually gone from hating compositions to loving them. What did that prove? Writing was now a regular hobby of mine. I even bought a journal last week, and have been writing in it 3 pages a night- something I never would've dreamed of doing. The bell rang again, and nothing really happened worth noting for the rest of the school day.

As I was walking home that day, I crossed the train tracks and grinned as I remembered the fun I had last Sunday. I was hit with a sudden reluctance to leave. I wanted to stay here. I didn't want to go home. Setting my books down on the grass and sliding down next to them, I pondered all that had happened to me this week. I didn't tell Teddy about Sunday. I didn't tell anyone. I guess it is my little secret. I don't understand myself sometimes. That may change when I know all of life's little secrets.

Now, about Chris: Why did people pick on him? What has he ever done to them? Even some of the teachers hate him. The teachers. The adults who are strict but aren't supposed to be biased- at least over students. What had he done to deserve such rotten treatment? Probably nothing. I decided to ask Teddy about this tomorrow when I went to the diner. Now about homework… ah, homework. Dear, DEAR homework. I could only think of some science questions I had to answer out of the textbook, some History homework, and the stupid Charles Dickens book in English class that we had to read. Oh, well. At least the English isn't due next week…

I was awakened by falling raindrops. Groggily, I opened my eyes. A droplet fell onto my nose, making me blink. I looked up. I was still sitting under a tree. One of its branches hung low over my head, water trickling down a leaf and landing onto me.

In about two minutes, the light rain shower turned into a thunderstorm.

Liz. I warned to myself.

You are under a tree.

Tree is: dangerous place to be during a thunderstorm.

I couldn't tell what time it was. The sky was too dark to read. It could've been 3:45 as well as it could've been 6:30. I walked home, watching my feet most of the way. The sidewalks and streets were deserted. No one else was here to enjoy the rain. When I got to my house, I checked the clock. 4:15. I changed my clothes and ran a dry towel through my hair before my parents could say a word about catching a cold.