“Hoping for a good grade, ya know?”

I smile at her, then let it fade as the teacher stepped in. She went straight from the door to her desk at the front of the class. In her arms was a bundle of papers, presumably the previous day’s test.

“There was only one person who passed this test.”

The entire class grew very quiet. That was never a good thing. That meant either a retest or a different grading scale. And neither were an option for most of the class.

I had spent the day before the test drinking with a friend. I knew I shouldn’t have, because I was still very hungover when I did the test. I pulled myself out of my thoughts as the teacher started slapping papers onto desks. Her slams were harder or lighter with each different person and as she slid the paper on my desk, she made hardly a noise. The rest of the class continued with the louder patterns of sounds. I was almost afraid of what my grade was.

As I take the paper and flip just part of it over, I nearly fainted with what I saw.


Written for day 7 of the A to Z 2016 Challenge.


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