Sophos Moros

“Changes”

“You have got to be shitting me.” He muttered. The sound of his voice carried further than he expected, and a casual comment became a case of the giggles for the classmates around him. Faces turned towards him smiling and snickering.

Unfortunately the audience helped attract unwanted attention.

“Mr. Bromstein, do we have a problem?” Mrs. Ebbing asked from the front of the class room. Stuck in mid-writing, her chalk held still against the board and her back to the class. She had eyes everywhere and at some times seemed better and seeing things when she wasn't looking in your direction.

He started to say. “Of course we do, it's your god damn homework assignment over a three day weekend.” Somehow between his brain and mouth it translated to. “Umm... no...?”

“No? Then was the word you used an appropriate word to describe the homework assignment I am currently writing on the board?”

More giggling followed, everyone except for Darrin enjoyed the conversation. He frowned, hoping this torture would end soon.

“I ummm was just being descriptive of a uhmm situation that was not in kind with what I expected this three day weekend to be about.”

He wasn't quite sure what he said made sense but he was pleased with what he had said and his sudden use of diplomatic skills.

“Then perhaps we should analyze the sentence you just said for more examples of bull's excrement.” She responded.

This time the audience didn't giggle, they laughed, a few were so amused they even snorted.

“This assignment is not only for the benefit of everyone in this class but also for those poor souls who will be driving over the bridges or living in the sky-rises that individuals in this class room designed and engineered. Instead of waisting time with commentary about the assignments, you should instead be concentrating a little bit more on making sure you understanding what I am teaching.”

He opened his mouth, a reply came quick to his lips, one that would have surely gotten him detention. Somehow he managed to stop that response, and instead filtered it into something a little more appropriate.

“Yes Mrs. Eddings.” He said.

The words seemed to have satisfied her, and with a slight nod of her head and a bounce of her poofy brown hair, she continued writing the assignment out on the board. The 8 problems she had listed before had suddenly become 12.

A collective groan circulated through the class room, although it's life cycle was cut short by a short pause of Mrs. Ebbing's hand. Surely a threat to any more comments even if they were noises instead of words. Once the groan had been killed she finished writing out the assignment.

More than one student shot Darrin a hate filled look, blaming him for the increase in assigned problems His slight chat with Mrs. Ebbing did little to increase his social standing with his fellow students.

He shook his head, not caring what other people thought of him. Turning back to his notebook, he continued working on the art project before him. The sketch was quickly taking the likeness on of a monstrous Mrs. Ebbing flinging her physics about in the natures of black holes with ghoulish faces and stars with deadly teeth. He had just decided she would look even better with a sky-rise being crushed between her teeth.

Almost complete, it would soon be a masterpiece worthy of being posted in Facebook. Judging from how many students actually liked Mrs. Ebbing versus hated, he imagined it would quickly become quite a popular picture.

As he drew a cold wind crept across the back of his neck. He shivered in response, goosebumps forming along the back of his head. Looking up he failed to see any source for such a breeze, Bob Bigglestone sat behind him, and being in the neighborhood of 400 pounds, he was quite thoroughly eliminated from the lists of possible culprits. The boy could barely breathe let alone emit a gust of air. Besides, he thought, if it was Bob breathing down his neck, that would be unnecessarily creepy.

Something did catch his eye though, something that was quite a bit more pleasant than Bob. Across the room from him, sitting demurely, yet with a coy grin upon her lips was Hellen Singer. Her beautiful brown eyes stared at him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away, unable to hold her stare. Gorgeous blond hair sat upon a face that looked to be sculpted or drawn, so perfect where it's angle, eyes large and lips luscious, she was by far the most beautiful woman in school and she knew it. Decked out in barely school legal clothes, she had a way of teasing every boy with her short skirts and tight tops. Bouncing from class to class in the hallway, she inevitably left behind a long line of staring boys, most with their mouths hung open. Geeks like Darrin not only did not have any chance of ever talking to her, but they were also kept back by the host of fellow cheerleaders and infatuated foot ball players guarding her like a living shield.

Darrin slowly looked back up at her, finding her attention diverted away from him.

They had once been friends when they were younger, she only lived a few blocks away from him. Yet something happened when they got into highshool, they both put on weight. Her weight was centered on her large blossoming breasts, while his centered around his stomach as he gained a paunch. While her developments gained her popularity and adoration, Darrin's gained him isolation and typecasting as a nerd and a geek.

He couldn't even look her in the eyes these days, having to pawn away time staring at her from afar.

“Mr. Bromstein why is it that you feel you not only have the capability to comment on the assignments I give, but also that you can selectively listen to my lectures?” Mrs. Ebbing said, her voice skittering over him, like a spider crawling on his face.

Turning away from Hellen, he found Mrs. Ebbing standing at the front of class, slowly slapping a ruler against the palm of her open hand. If it wasn't for the old green dress she was wearing, he might have actually been intimidated.

“Ummm... I was just admiring the new classroom paint...” He said.

She didn't seem amused.

“and the physics of it?” He added, hoping he could get her countenance to crack If he could at least get her to grin then perhaps he might get off the hook.

A smile did appear, not the kind he hoped though. It was like the devil's type of grin

“Mr. Bromstein that sounds like a terrific idea, outside of the homework I gave you over the three day weekend, why don't you follow that thought up with writing a 5 page paper describing how paint chemically bonds to materials.”

“But... but... that has nothing to do with physics...”

“And neither does the classroom wall or for that matter Mrs. Singer.”

His world seemed to shrink and his face grew warm, his secret crush torn from the world of gossip mongers to the public. Surrounded as he was by his fellow classmates he had no place to look with out seeing smiles, snickers, and gawks. No place to hide.

Dropping his gaze from Mrs. Ebbing he stared at his book full of doodles.

She had no right.

No right to do what she did.

No right!

Vile old bitch!

Something clicked.

Something changed.

A spark lit upon his spirit, setting it ablaze.

“Bitch...” He said, the words coming from deep with in. The fire clawing it's way out.

Silence followed.

Nobody giggled, nobody laughed.

The pencil in his hand wobbled on it's own, dancing to his anger.

The bell rang, the only thing that had the nerve to make any noise. Yet unlike most days, today nobody moved. Nobody dared to stand.

“Mr. Bromstein” Mrs. Ebbing said. “What did you just say?”

“Bitch.” He replied. “I called you a bitch.”

He looked up from his book, seeing her face grow red. She sputtered no words coming from her mouth.

Giving up on vocalizing her anger, she pointed towards the door and stomped her foot. Never before had she been giving to this form of non-verbal communication, yet the class knew what she said and they obeyed. As one the left, they stampeded out of the room as fast as possible, leaving only Darrin and Mrs. Ebbing, leaving only the combatants.

The pencil in his hand shifted, it wobbled, it skewed from side to side as if it wanted free of his grip. It barely registered amongst the anger in his heart and the heat in his head.

As soon as the room was vacant, she closed the door, sealing them inside, sealing any possible audience outside. Turning around she practically ran towards him, as fast as her short legs could carry her with out actually running, metric ruler held in her hand like a sword. Rage was in her face, and pain in her grip. Raising the ruler above her, she loomed it over him, ready to deliver upon him a smack across his head. Time slowed as her hand came down.

He never blinked.

She never had a chance.

The pencil rocketed from his palm. It collided with the ruler on it's way down and drove it from her hand. Almost faster than the eye could see it carried the weapon across the class room and nailed the ruler to the chalkboard.

They turned towards the chalkboard and almost as one gasped. Darrin forgot his anger then, unsure of what just occurred, he was filled only with shock and curiosity. He didn't throw that pencil, he didn't launch it at her, it had launched itself.

When Mrs. Ebbing turned back, he could see from her face, that she thought he had thrown it at her. That he had launched a preemptive attack before she could smack him with her ruler, an action, if witnessed would have gotten her fired.

Her blow had never landed, yet his pencil had been launched at her.

She practically screamed.

“DETENTION!”