Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Bastien comes around the front of his desk and sits on the edge. “So…” He gives a tight smile. “The parade was fun.”
A round of laughter goes off, everyone who wasn’t there at least hearing about the fight by this point.
“Oh, come on, the kids will remember that one, at least,” a guy in the back calls out.
The teacher nods in agreement. “They will.”
He unzips his dark blue pullover, revealing a thick vein underneath a tan neck. His Kelly green T-shirt peeks out, and I hear Coral inhale behind me, almost whimpering. I shake with a laugh, knowing my father would never let my mom have a parent-teacher conference alone with this guy.
Of course, she’s obsessed with my dad, but he still gets jealous.
“And I’m sure the Falls High alumni will remember it, as well,” Bastien informs us. “They’ll remember it, reinforcing their continued assessment that thugs like us should never win.”
Someone tsks behind me, while others make aggravated sounds.
He goes on, “So they’ll write more checks, pumping more money into equipment, extra training, physical therapy, away games, hotels, and buses with bathrooms.” He pauses, looking around his room of seniors. “You made their coach very happy yesterday.”
I’d love to say that he’s not right, but that’s exactly the narrative about Weston in my town. Of course, we know better, but it pumps us up and increases our enjoyment of the rivalry to talk shit like every single one of them is trouble-loving, rude, and has no regard for personal property.
Just like they assume we never work for anything, have never experienced loss, and have never had a deep thought in our heads.
“And for what?” Bastien asks. “Why do we do it? Put on our colors and march down the street to represent our towns?”
And one by one, students throw out answers.
“Community pride?”
“Solidarity for our shared history?”
“Supporting the hard work of our athletes?” Mace offers.
“What about the hard work of the students?” someone else asks. “We don’t have parades for Honor Roll.”
“Stadiums for science fairs,” I add.
People laugh, and the teacher nods, liking the questions we’re asking.
Competition is fun. The prospect of winning brings people together. That’s easy enough to figure out.
But why just football?
“Take out your phones,” he says.
He walks to the board and picks up his marker.
“Email me a letter.” He writes down his email address. “Dylan Trent wants us to save trees today.”
“Haha,” Coral jokes behind me.
Haha.
“Write to a Shelburne Falls Pirate parent,” he continues. “Mom or Dad. It doesn’t matter.” He turns and recaps the marker. “Tell them what you think of all of this, what you want them to know about you, and what you hope for them. Five-hundred words.”
Hmm, boring. Sounds like he doesn’t want to teach today.
“If you don’t have your phone, paper is fine,” he calls out.
I take out paper and a pencil, and he raises his eyebrows. I roll my eyes. What am I supposed to do? I don’t have my phone.
“Does Dylan just write to her own parents then?” someone asks, followed by a round of snickers.
I put my name on my paper and try to think of a witty comeback, but I’m honestly not sure who I’m going to write to.
“Are we sending these to the parents?” Coral asks.
Bastien doesn’t reply, simply plays some downtempo on his computer while most of the class starts typing away on their phones, a few of us, including Codi and me, writing on paper.
Next week at this time I’ll be sitting in computer science, my class right before financial literacy. They didn’t have either of those options on my schedule here.
The classes are better at home, but still, it’ll be hard to leave Weston. I like Bastien. He talks to us like adults, and gives us more questions than answers. I don’t like people who think they know everything.
I mean, I understand the significance of learning programming and why my credit score matters and how the stock market works. I know new jobs are being invented every day, taxes help society function, and we’re being groomed to be useful parts in the massive machine, and hey, I don’t even mind all that much. I love helping the economy. I like shopping.
But I don’t love those classes. They’re not fun, and I never feel like I’m discovering anything.
Since coming to Weston, I’ve discovered one new thing about myself. I might be a Shelburne Falls parent someday, but I can’t say I want the jacket back anymore. Not really.
We turn in our assignments, and I go through the day, keeping my eyes forward.
Even when I feel him.
I thought maybe he wouldn’t come when I didn’t see him with the team during first period. Hunter has a habit of walking away. This is his third school in a little over a year, after leaving Falls High and St. Matthew’s.