Disclaimer: *in moany voice* Do I have to? *sigh* Fine. I don't own Piper, Leo, the Wilderness School, and HoO all together. Ya happy?
Piper
Piper and Leo's first English class was Tuesday. Their seating arrangements were drawn up on the chalkboard at the front of the class, and Piper's desk was at the back of the room next to this guy who used his homework as spit ball ammunition and some girl who acted as if she was the princess of popular. (She didn't even know how to apply her makeup properly.) Leo sat right at the front, near the teacher's desk. Piper guessed he got that a lot, based on his grin that naturally unnerved people.
"Hello, class," the teacher, Mr. Kowalski, announced. "If you were hoping a day off on your first English class, I hope you aren't too disappointed when I tell you that we will be writing letters to our parents back at home." Groans. "What did you think of the school?" he continued, ignoring them. "Did it change at all from last year? Anything you wish. After I mark them we will be actually sending them, so put some effort into this as your parents will be reading them." Then Mr. Kowalski sat back down at his desk, putting on a pair of glasses and began to read.
Piper pulled out a sheet of lined paper like the rest of the class and started her rough copy. She spotted Leo get up uncomfortably and walk half a stride to Mr. Kowalski's desk. Still eyeing their conversation carefully, Piper pulled out a pencil and snapped the lead off inside her desk. She rose to her feet with her blunt pencil in hand, and walked casually to the front of the classroom to the pencil sharpener. She was literally two feet away from Mr. Kowalski and Leo's heated discussion.
"What do you mean you can't do the project?" asked Mr. Kowalski.
"See, the thing is, I don't have parents to write to," said Leo. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. This was obviously hard to explain. "What I meant was that I could do the project, but you just can't send it."
"Stop kidding me, boy," said Mr. Kowalski. "I'll just send it to your guardian, then."
"I don't have a guardian either," said Leo, a bit irritated. Mr. Kowalski glared at him, but that was all of the conversation Piper was able to hear without becoming suspicious—her pencil had been sharpened twice already.
She quietly returned to her seat and continued with her rough copy. Her letter by the end of the class looked something like this:
Hey, Dad!
So for English class we had to write a letter to a family member. Guess who I chose! *hint hint*
Ha ha, just kidding. Anyway, The Wilderness School is okay, though I'm still not sure if the T in 'the' is uppercase or not. I wasn't too happy about the three maybe four hour hike from the train station to get here, though. This place is out in the middle of nowhere. Sure, there's an awesome lake a few miles down, and no one would be able come to our aid fast enough if the entire place suddenly burst into flames...
Just kidding again.
I've already made a friend. His name is Leo. And he's not my 'sweetheart', as you would call it, thank you very much.
Remembering that Mr. Kowalski would be reading this, Piper scratched out that last line.
We're in the same grade, and even though we don't have homeroom together we share English and gym. He's ADHD, which makes him super-hyper all the time, as if he had just drunken ten mugs of coffee with a trillion ounces of sugar added.
Anyway, it's cool here. The weather so far has been caring, and with the exception of two rude b—
Piper erased the B, remembering her father would be reading this.
girls, everyone has been nice to me.
That was when Mr. Kowalski began down the aisles, asking for students' parent's name to put on the envelope. When he reached Piper she gestured for him to lean closer before speaking.
Piper looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, and told him quickly, "tristanmclean."
He gave her a look. "What?" he asked.
Piper repeated her father's name more slowly.
Mr. Kowalski looked at her sceptically, then said, "Okay," and walked off. Piper changed her mind on being glad that no one heard when the rude girl with tons of makeup on next to her asked, "Tristan McLean? Really?"
"Yeah," said Piper hesitantly.
The girl rolled her eyes and drew her eyes back to her work. "Such a wannabe," she muttered.
Piper rolled her eyes. If only.
Miss you lots, Dad.
Yours truly,
Pipes.
(I decided to update twice in one day. Why? Because this chapter is short, only 800 words. And with the previous chapter, combined they are about 1800 words, including AN, which is about the length of a normal chapter.)
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