Forty-Two

It has never been my style to get late for class and make big grand entrances. I dint even like making appearances or standing out in the crowd, like Vince. I was late for class, this round not Mr. Thomas’ boring math’s lesson, but English.

Everyone thought she was lovely and beautiful, with her wide smiled, perfectly shaped cheekbones and elegant clothes she wore every day. Not to mention the six inches high heeled shoes that she wore every day. I had been praying for decades for her to fall down and break a jaw or arm, anything. When it comes to terrible teachers, Mr. Thomas was at the top of the list, followed by Madam Caren.

English teachers just tended to be too much of themselves, too proud, too beautiful, too happy, too bright smiles. Everything about them was just so much that I always felt like it was choking me. She just burned too brightly and kept wearing bright colors to school every day. Bright yellow tops and dresses, bright red suits, and everything that could shout fr