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She sat there in the studious silence, staring outside through the window, tapping her metallic silver ink pen on the desktop lightly. She sighed, another day of summer school. It's not like she needed to be at summer school, she had a grade point average of 3.9. She was at summer school because she'd rather be there, doing something productive, than being stuck at home, watching the mindless soap operas and daytime talk shows that turned a person's mind into spam. Yes, spam, that synthetic meat that no one likes.
She looked down at her the back of her left hand; she had drawn a pentagram with a crescent moon on either side pointing in opposite directions on it with her silver pen. She admired her work for a moment then sighed. Yes, she was bored. She had finished her work nearly a half hour ago and had nothing to do except look around the room. She had gotten tired of that pretty quickly, not seeing anything of interest, meaning that the people she knew from regular school were still working and no guy caught her attention enough to look at him for long. So to combat the boredom, she drew on the back of her hand.
She uncapped the pen and began to draw vines coming down from the moon, the vines wrapping around her wrist. Frowning, she decided to make the vines into a Celtic knotwork bracelet. She was so enthralled in her makeshift mendhi that she didn't notice that the room had gotten rowdy and noisy. A hand was waved in front of her face, distracting her view from her work of body art, and she looked up. It was one of the people she knew from regular school, and the girl smiled brightly at her. She gave a faint smile, capping the pen, and leaving it on the desktop.
The girl started talking about the classwork and how it was a lot easier than she expected, and how that there was this REALLY cute guy who had been smiling at her since they had started summer school (three days ago), and how come she never talked to her during regular school. She just told her that she preferred to stay to herself, thinking that talking to this girl would at least keep her awake and thus keep her from getting a referral. Yes, a referral for sleeping in class during summer school, when you had all your work done. Stupid.
She rotated her painted wrist absently as the other girl talked. She listened to her talk and talk about the REALLY cute guy. She looked at the guy she was talking about and nodded slightly. He was cute. Not REALLY cute, but cute. He smiled at her, and she looked confused, then just smiled back, turning her attention to her chattering front seat neighbor.
The teacher came up to the front of the classroom, telling everyone to shut up. Yes, those were his exact words. Shut up. You could only expect so much from a summer school teacher. Her noisy neighbor turned around and became the stereotypical good girl. She sighed softly, leaning back against her chair back, thankful that it was resting against a wall. The teacher muttered on about early American history and the way people lived in the early colonies. He came up on the topic of the Salem witch trials and she perked up to listen. He started in on how the heathens, the pagans that were the witches and how they deserved what they got. Yes, the teacher was a devout Christian, to a fault.
She shook her head, tired of hearing all this pagan bashing that the teacher was spewing out. The teacher looked at her, an angry look on his face. Do you have something to share, he asked. She just shook her head, he gave a smug smile and continued bashing. She spoke up saying, Yes, I do have something to say. Well, go ahead, say it, he looked at her, waiting. The rest of the class just looked at her, the room having gone silent. She spoke.
The people that were prosecuted as witches were not usually witches. Those people just happened to have done something which was questionable to the very strict Protestant faith. At that time, picking an unknown plant and sniffing it was questionable. And if you were a woman, look out. You were immediately deemed evil. Any woman that was independant from a man was a witch. How could a defenseless woman survive without a man? Of course, she must have made a deal with Satan. Yeah right, the stupid men of early America were just scared of an independant woman; someone like that would upheave the patriarchy of the church. Heaven forbid!
The teacher looked at her, done yet? Yes, dammit, she was fucking done. The teacher looked at her as if he was beholding one of the demons of the deepest pits of hell. Young lady, go to the principal's office this very INSTANT. I will not have that type of talk in MY classroom. She stood up, what type of talk? valid opinions or cussing? TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE! NOW! He was yelling at her as she walked past him. She stopped at the door. Which way? She gave him a condescending smile, then he nearly tripped over his feet. The REALLY cute guy stepped up, hiding laughter, and volunteered to show her the way to the principal's office. The teacher just nodded, fuming as he looked at her. She shrugged and walked down the hall, the guy a few feet behind her. He had better not think she was interested.
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