Randall ran a hand roughly through his hair. He swiped his hand across his dest, littering the floor with pencil shavings.

He needed to pass this test to pass his third quarter. The third quarter grade was the grade that he worked off of in his fourth quarter. And he was not going to start the last quarter of his high school career with a D.

Despite Randall’s thoughts, the empty answer box stared up at him mockingly. The sound of pencils upon paper grated on his ears. The scrape of a chair moving away from a desk broke his attention. His subconscious welcomed the distraction from the test before him and his head jerked up.

Maria Sanders was at the test basket. Her sage green eyes darted over the page. Apparently satisfied with it, she placed in the empty basket. Randall felt a moment of loathing. She would never be in his situation. She loved this stuff. She would graduation, no problem, and go on to be successful. She would never have the struggle with an empty test document. Shaking from his thoughts he looked at his own empty test document.

Maria Sanders looked up just as his eyes dropped. Though, she really did really read into his stare. It didn’t matter. Her test was over. She could sleep now.

Okay. So it’s really short. I actually didn’t mean for this to be so short. Let’s say it’s the prologue. For now.

Ah, the illusionary powers of wide ruled kiddy paper. It looked so much longer hand written. Well, that seemed a proper place to stop first of all. But more is easily accessible. Don’t worry.

Sarah