Pandora’s Shoebox

A story by “prophetic squeegee”

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Chapter One - “I Do Not Like Your Johnny”

Isaiah Ellwood did not like algebra, not one single bit. Slowly he sat back, sinking as low as he could in his chair. He absently started playing with a pencil, blowing a piece of black hair out of his face and watching as it fell back. Isaiah had brown hair that was dyed black but had terrible roots because he was too lazy to dye it again and he had normal brown eyes that were the same color as milk chocolate.

“Now if you would please simplify the polynomial fractions in this problem, mister…” She looked around the room for a victim. “Mister Ellwood, would you please come to the board and demonstrate for us,”

The teacher looked suddenly at him through her byefocals. Isaiah froze as he realized that every pair of eyes in the room was also staring at him. He put the pencil down and then blinked at the teacher.

Slowly Isaiah dragged himself out of the desk chair, his black Vans dragging along the floor as he slowly shuffled to the front of the room. Miss Crown looked at him expectantly, and his stomach felt suddenly sick as he turned back to the board, lifting the white board marker.

Slowly he started to write, and as Miss Crown turned back to the ibook perched on her desk. Several people started to giggle and Isaiah half turned and grinned, then kept writing. As more and more teenagers started laughing Miss Crown looked up and then her mouth flew open as Isaiah stepped back.

“All finished Miss Crown,” he said sweetly.

On the board was drawn a crude stick figure with the same glasses and tight bun as the teacher. Beside it was drawn another smaller stick figure that was supposed to be a student. It was unmistakably giving the teacher a rude hand sign.

“Mr. Ellwood!!!” screeched the teacher, looking horrified. “Detention after school!! Go to the principal right now!!!!!”

“Of course, Miss Crown,” Isaiah said, grinning. There was people rolling on the classroom floor laughing now, and one kid in the front was in tears he was giggling so hard.

“Go THIS INSTANT!!!!!” screamed Miss Crown her face turning red. She pointed out the classroom door and Isaiah whistled lightly as he strode past her. He stopped in the doorway and turned.

“O yeah,” he said, grinning. “Forgot something,” He mimicked the figure on the board and promptly flicked the teacher off.

“GET OUT OF THIS CLASSROOM YOU LITTLE RAT!!!!!!!!!!” shrieked Miss Crown.

“Gladly,” said Isaiah, turning around and slinking off.

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The principal’s office was all-to-familiar to sixteen-year-old Isaiah. The black-haired, dark-eyed sophmore looked up and scowled. The walls were plain brick decorated with posters that scorned drugs and promoted getting to school on time. The carpet was a simple greenish-peach that made him want to get sick. In one corner was an out-of-order drink machine, stocked with bottled water and caffeine-free diet soda. Typical of teachers, no mountain dew in sight,

There were only 2 other people in the room, a boy and a girl. The boy was a senior and had black hair with red tips, a red sweatshirt, baggy ripped jeans, and lots of piercings. Isaiah didn’t know him, but he waved anyways. The boy was in there a lot like Isaiah.

“Hey there, office buddy,” the boy said, laughing. “What’d you do this time?”

“Flicked off a teacher,”

“Wow, that’s pretty daring,” the senior said, nodding. “You got style, kid. Ha ha,”

He looked up as the receptionist poked her birdlike head over the mountain of paper on her desk. “Chocky Pianskalev?” she said dully. “The principal will see you now.” Slowly Chocky got up and slunk into the door labeled principal. It shut behind him.

The girl put down a small book and whacked Isaiah upside the head, glaring at him. “You’re a dumbass, sometimes, you know?” she said crossly. She had hair to her chin dyed dark reddish, and she wore glasses. Her eyes were hazel.

“Ow, Pandora, what was that for?” snapped Isaiah, rubbing the side of his head.

“You’re going to get expelled one day!” snapped Pandora, glaring at him fiercely.

“One less thing to worry about,” Isaiah said bitterly. “How old do you have to be before they kick you out of school for failing so many times?”

“Twenty-two,” said Pandora, settling back with her book, The Lion in Winter.

Isaiah counted on his fingers. “Ha,” he snorted. “I have six more years that I can fail Algebra before I never have to worry about it again.”

Pandora rolled her eyes and sighed. “You’ve already flunked twice,” she said. “What’s wrong with it?”

“The teachers all suck,” said Isaiah, shrugging. “Besides, if I’m going to be a musician what’s the point of algebra?”

“So you can count how many times your band gets rejected,” said Pandora dryly. “So you can play guitar. That’s not going to get you through college, no matter how rocked-out you can play the Star Spangled Banner.”

“Pfft,” said Isaiah, examining his bitten-down black fingernails. “Look at Kiss. Metallica. Led Zeppelin. They’ve all got it made. Lots of money, big houses, five cars…”

“Look at you,” said Pandora, shaking her head. “You have a garage and three bucks to your name.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Isaiah, shrugging. “You call me when my band’s kicking Hillary Duff off of America’s Top Forty. Literally,” he added darkly, though Pandora was buried in her book.

Casually Isaiah snatched it away. “Hey!” said Pandora. “Hey, give it back!”

“I want to read it!” said Isaiah, laughing as she swiped for it, opening the little book to the fifth or sixth page. “I do not like your Johnny,” he said in a high pitched voice, reading the first line that he saw and laughing. Pandora viciously pulled a fistful of his hair and snatched the book back.

“You’re so dumb sometimes you know!!!” said Pandora, whacking him with the paper back book. “God, you’re an idiot. I can’t believe I settle for you as my best friend.” She smiled as she said it, though.

Isaiah grinned and pretended to pucker up. “It’s ‘cause I’m sexy,” he said, leaning closer. Pandora only slapped him in the face with a Highlights magazine, shaking with laughter.

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