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Rated: 13+ · Folder · Sci-fi · #1397521
Today we'll be learning how to add . . . to my campfires and interactives.
Banner for my math folder,


" Hmm . . . Looks like you got math first hour. Oh man, you've got Mr. Beaumann!" Jeremy says to you as a smile erupts across his face. Noticing you look worried, he confides, "No, don't worry. That's not a bad thing. He's really cool. Well, if you pay attention and do the homework assignments."

Taking a deep gulp, you enter classroom 208. A soft yellow light pours through windows lined with hanging plants. Four rows of wood and metal desks face a large blackboard full of mathematical equations. As you enter, all the students stop taking notes and turn to you. You flush in embarrassment. Noticing a disturbance through his teacher-sense, Mr. Beaumann rests his chalk on the board and turns to you.

"Another one. For the love of Calculus, where do they expect me to fit all these kids." He comes over to you and looks your class-list over. He realizes he may have been too harsh with his choice of words and smiles at you, the corners of his mouth perking up. He then presents you to the class. "I’m sure you'll make a great addition to this equation. Rather than remaining an unknown variable, please identify your known set."

Standing in front of the class, you start rubbing your arms in nervousness. You hate being the center of attention. Slowly words pour from your mouth.

"Welcome to Westwood. You can go ahead and take that empty seat next to Jennifer. Jen, please raise your hand."

A gangly girl with frizzy red hair and thick-rimmed glasses anxiously raises her hand. As you walk toward her, you can see a genuine smile hidden behind glistening braces.

"Hi, I'm Jen." You can see the saliva bridging the gap between her opened lips. You grow queasy for a moment before taking you seat next her.

Having taken your seat, you reach into your book bag. You instantly realize you didn't bring a single pencil to class. Fear floods your brain as you flush red. again A ready hand appears before your face, freckled fingers extending a chewed-up pencil. You hesitate for a moment but take it.

"Thanks, " you tell her. "I really hope the lunch here is more appetizing than pencils."

Jen explodes into a long and high-pitched laugh.

It’s going to be a long day and this is only first hour!
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