He must pass the test, or lose his Scholarship |
I walk the empty corridor of the school, my footsteps echoing down the familiar halls, making too much noise for my liking. I doubt anyone will be here on a Thursday night, but if I get caught, I'll be in the shit. I knew I was going to fail the test as soon as I flipped over the first page. Geography wasn't my bag but I had to pass to maintain my Football Scholarship. The second I knew I had no hope, I began writing the questions down on anything I could find; scrap paper, pencil case, even my left arm. I walked out of that room a living test paper. End of Phase One: The easy part. Phase Two: Distraction. Get Mr Preacher to leave the school in a hurry at the end of the day, thus leaving the completed tests on his desk, to be marked at a later date. I made a call on behalf of the hospital. "Your wife has been admitted and is asking for you". Desperate measures for desperate times. I sat by a tree, watching him take the bait in a flurry of arm gestures and panicked conversation. It was late in the day. He wouldn't be back. I slipped back into the classroom and took a spare answer sheet. Luck was on my side. Phase 3: "A" grade paper. Text books, a rose, some chocolates and my girlfriend, valedictorian in the making, working feverishly on a tight deadline. Phase 4: Is where we are now. What was that noise? I can hear someone at the front door. It might be the cleaner. I have to move fast. I reach the staff office and see the papers on his desk. I make the swap. Footsteps are coming towards me... Phase 5: Escape. 300 words |