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    Better than Most – (Chapter: 2)

    I found out that Thursday, to my complete delight, that Spencer Carlin was in both my English and History classes. Unfortunately there was at least a couple of Madison’s minions in there too, and they stuck to me like a bad rash.

     

    So my situation was as follows; Mr Baxter’s English class with Sherry, cheerleader and complete bimbo – god help her if she ever needs to use common sense. She sat next to me, up the back, yapping on about Aiden or cheerleading or Madison. I think that’s about the extent of her vocabulary. And while she spoke, I ignored her completely, and focused all my attention on the one person who has been able to maintain it (albeit she doesn’t know it).

     

    Spencer sat on the furthest side of the classroom, two rows from the front. Beside her was, I assume, a close friend. A guy with raven hair and thick rimmed glasses. They seemed to share their own little world in class, and I envied them for it. What I wouldn’t give to be part of their world instead of the plastic one I’ve found myself in.

     

    "Ashley?" I look up towards the front slowly, and cringe when I see the entire class staring back at me. Great. "Ashley, nice to see we have you with us again…"

     

    "Glad to be here," I drone back, giving Baxter a forced smile. He huffs out a breath I didn’t know he was holding.

     

    "So Ashley, since you feel it unnecessary to listen in my class, you’ll have no trouble in answering the question I just posed to the class, right?"

     

    Ah crap. I look quickly to Sherry who just shrugs and giggles at the same time. Heaven forbid she know what he was going on about.

     

    "Ahh sure Mr B," I drawl out as my eyes sweep the room for some hint of what I was suppose to be talking about. I caught Spencer out of the corner of my eye, holding a sheet of paper behind her chair with writing on it, her eyes focused on solely on Mr Baxter. "Ah your question… regarding the um, oh King Lear…" I was battling to inconspicuously read what Spencer had written. "Well the play has, um… the ability to be read um in different contexts?… Like ah, a Marxist reading, and um a feminist one too…"

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