poly_chromatic | » 3 ; audio

Good afternoon, Westerberg sweeties! It's that time of year again. Yes, that time where I totally break the rules and risk my teaching career by offering you another way to scrape your grade up from the bottom of the barrel in the last days of school.

First up, if you've done your final project, congratulations. You don't have to take the final exam. Turn it in and I'll see you in the hallways next semester or on Facebook in your drunken college shenanigans. If you didn't, and you know I'm talking about you, Henry, I can't legally pass you. Again. However, I'd love to see your lovely face in these desks again next year with all your excuses of why you didn't do the little bit of homework I do give you.

Again.

I did say there was another option, right? Right. Here we go.

Using a superhero, cartoon character, or mythical figure as reference, create an overlay of the basic muscle groups. Dimensions are variable, but the entire thing shouldn't be larger than sixteen inches by twenty inches. Due Friday, noon, the latest. Short notice, yes, but teachers have social lives too.

That's it. Easy as pie. Can be done in one or two class periods if you feel the need to take some time for a private field trip. [Coughing and a whisper of Justin.] And before I forget, I'd like to thank all the students who didn't belong to me who took the time out of their busy class schedules to hang out in my classroom that didn't belong to them. You've made teaching a joy.

Miss Angela, out.

[ooc: Just your regular hang loose and fly free art teacher. Feel free to make excuses of why you were in her classroom even if she wasn't your teacher.]

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...Miss A?

Yes?

I dunno if I'm gonna do so hot in this... and I know I got a lot of absences. Is there any chance at extra credit?

[Big for his britches and taking one too many rides in the school system is a young Mr. White. Al White on your roster, m'am. She might suspect that's not his real name cuz it always takes him a bit to focus on who's talking to him. The price you pay for trying to distance yourself from your law run-in records that have yet to be sealed.]

[She can smell a juvenile delinquent a mile away, but Angela's cool with him. It's a classroom, not a courtroom.]

That's why I put the offer out there, Al. Last chance to save your butt.

Thanks. I really am glad for that.

[He hasn't quite perfected the cool, calm demeanor thing. That's still in the making. Right now he rubs his own shoulder.]

I'm just worried it's not enough.

[Very late in the game.]

How about you let me worry about the grades and you worry about what teenagers worry about? Girls? Dances? Whether you'll get the car for this weekend?

[Translation: if he does the work, he'll be fine.]

[That full head of dark brown hair nods. She's right. What can be done after that? And there is enough to worry about at home. Whether or not they'll keep him around graduation or not, maybe trying to get a summer job to move out.

Oh. There is a dance, ain't there?]

Okay.

[Can't argue with a pretty face.]

Thanks again. I'm gonna really try this time.

I hope you do. You have talent. [A genuine smile.] I just wish I saw more of it, you know?

Talent?

[Now she's gonna go and embarrass him like that. He cracks a grin and looks away.]

I wouldn't say that or anything. Just doing what I'm supposed to.

[Sometimes.]

I would. You have a clear understanding of color theory and the muscle systems. I'm just calling it how I see it.

[She really hates the phrases "but if you applied yourself..." so she isn't going to outwardly say it, but it's hinted, though/]

You make it pretty easy to pick up, teach.

[And he does when he gets the gumption. Otherwise he's preoccupied trying to find his corner of happiness between homes, schools and bouts of trouble that comes into his path one way or another.]

Well, smart students help make my job easy. I can't take all the credit, sweetheart.

For all I know, I might have rocks in my head.

[Eighteen years old now, not yet graduated. He'd like to just blame his own brain. That would be easy.

Miss Angela does make him smile.]

So noon tomorrow at the latest.

[As he adjusts his backpack.]

If you did, you wouldn't be standing here talking to me. Rock brains don't take you too far.

[There are worse students than him. There's a certain nineteen year old sophomore in the ranks.]

Not twelve-oh-one, not twelve-thirty, twelve.

[Eamesy right? Mr. White is of two minds about him. One is idolizing, he just makes it all look so cool. The teachers call him out and it's like water off a duck's back. But then, it could be a look into anyone's future. Then what? Stay at school, high school all your life and be reminded how everything's passing you by?]

Twelve and nothing more.

[Hopefully he can make it. Larry starts to turn away before he stops.]

...will points be taken off if it's wrinkled?

[She raises her eyebrows at that one. It's new to her and she has to think about it for a moment.]

As long as I can make out what's going on on the paper...

[She's one in a million. Maybe she already knows. He half makes like he wants to hug her and remembers himself.]

Okay! Thanks Miss A!

[Angela notices that start and stop and finishes it for him by wrapping an arm around his shoulders.]

I won't tell if you don't.

[Now that it's happening he keeps his arms more at her shoulders for the embrace. For a moment he feels lucky, smart and a class act. Is this what it's like to be a good student? Not too long of a hug. His face feels like it might split open how he's smiling.

There might be a hint of color on in his cheeks. He's no virgin but he can tell a meant hug when he gets one. If he gets one.]

No ma'am.

[If anybody it'll be to that kid with the freckles. He can probably keep a secret.]

Thought so. Now scram before I decide to give you back homework.

[And for good measure, she ruffles his hair. Awr.]

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