“You’re late, Mr. Rider,” came Ms. Stweed’s pinched voice, without so much of a glance away from her Gradebook. I looked at my watch. It was four minutes past the time the bell rang. What did she expect me to do, run over?
“I expect punctuality, Mr. Rider,” said Ms. Stweed as though reading my mind.
“Well, take a seat,” she gestured, “I expect we’ll be getting to know one another very well and hopefully discover the reason for your insubordination.”
“Well, about how long is this gonna last because I got football pract—”
“One hour,” said …show more content…
Are you kidding me! Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”
“Extreme….extreme!” Ms. Stweed squawked, pushing off from her seat and striding towards me.
“Mr. Rider,” she said, giving a short breath and expanding her metal pointer. “I shall not, and will not accept any sort of disobedience within the walls of this classroom. Laws and punishments must be fixed.” She tapped down on my desk emphatically. I looked down at the silver pointer, feeling the anger from earlier beginning to resurface.
“Now then,” she said, readjusting her suit jacket. “Now that we have no further questions or misunderstandings, you shall begin your time in detention, and please sit up straight!” She motioned her hand upwards. Grudgingly, I placed his hands on his side and pushed myself up tall.
“Good,” she said. “Now I have some work for you to do while you are here.” She stamped off toward her desk and opened a drawer. She then pulled out a thick stack of moldy-looking papers.
“Here,” she said as she clip-clopped back, handing it to me.
“What I have here, is a cluster of newspaper clippings of finance articles that I have collected over the years. They need to be sorted chronologically by date and alphabetized by the first letter of the title. Do you think you can handle that?” Ms. Stweed asked as though addressing a