Bing!
"Vitimin C!" Lyza exclaimed triumphantly, her hand still poised over the little bell sitting on the stool.
"Very good," Mrs. Rinder said with a smile, "Six points for Team A."
Lyza's team cheered; they were in the lead!
Next up was Shy William. He walked to the stool at the front of science class, left hand locked in the right.
Rini stomped up as he slowly trudged, readying her hand with a glare of dominance.
Once the kids were in position, Mrs. Rinder cleared her throat.
"This question has two parts, the first worth two and the second worth four points. Ready?" The kids responded. "First part: what temperature does water boi—"
Bing!
"One-hundred degrees," Rini said sharply.
Mrs. Rinder pushed her glasses to her forehead. "Is that your final answer?"
"Yes." The rat spoke almost defiantly.
"That's incorrect."
"What!?" Her team groaned.
"William, if you can answer correctly you will get the credit: at what temperature does water boil in degrees Celsius."
The Dalmatian thought for a moment: "One-hundred degrees?" He replied hesitantly.
"That's correct."
"Hey wait a minute!" Rini protested, "That's the answer I gave!" Her group shouted behind her.
"I'm sorry, Rini," Mrs. Rinder explained, "but you didn't tell me whether you meant Celsius or Fahrenheit. You just said one-hundred degrees, and I didn't finish the question."
"That's not fair!" Kelly-Elly protested.
"Settle down, guys," Mrs. Rinder hushed, "This next question is worth more points so Rini still has a chance to catch you guys up."
Emeral jabbed Lyza in the side. "Nice job, this is the second time you got us in the lead."
"I know!" Lyza said excitedly, "I never thought I'd remember this much. I thought you'd be the one to do it, since you're all scienceryer and stuff."
"Quiet everyone or I won't hear the bell," Mrs. Rinder warned. "Now, this question is worth four points: at what temperature does water boil in Fahrenhei—"
Bing!
"Thirty-two degrees!" Rini spoke, "Fahrenheit," she added, just for clarity.
Mrs. Rinder sighed, "Final answer?" She asked.
"Yup," Rini said, crossing her arms.
"Incorrect," Mrs. Rinder spoke with a quip. "William?" She asked, ignoring the boos and hisses from Team B.
"Can...can I use a lifeline?" William asked.
"Sure. Who do you think knows the answer?"
Lyza gulped as Shy William glanced around at his team. "Please don't pick me," she whispered.
"Me either," Emeral said in response, causing Lyza to turn her head.
"Ket," said William with certainty.
"Okay Ket, you're on the spot. Do you want me to repeat the question?"
"It's two-hundred twelve degrees, right?"
"That's correct, six more points for Team A."
"S'bu'sh't," Ritzer huffed.
"Cussing is a ten-point deduction," Mrs. Rinder stated.
"Ten points from Gryffendor," Squeaky Kimberly chirped in a British accent.
"Oh yew li'l—" Ritzer was about to drop another bomb when Bitty and Betty bopped him on the head. "Hey, d'heck?"
"Enough." Mrs. Rinder said wearily. "Team A wins by eighteen points," she raised her voice over the cheer, "so you will get to lead in the frog dissections later. And now that Ritzer gave me a headache it's time for you guys and gals to go back to Ms. Hupp's."
"Yer welcom ma'am," Ritzer said with a smile.
"Hustle," Mrs. Rinder said, ushering them to up and leave with her hands.
Ms. Hupp's class all stood and lined up at the door. When they walked out into the hall, Mrs. Rinder's class was already against the wall. They crossed into their home room, Ms. Hupp awaiting them with a smile on her face.
"I think if you hadn't have gotten that eight-pointer earlier we woulda been in real trouble," Emeral said to Lyza, "How did you know how many servings of vegetables were on the food pyramid anyway?"
Lyza giggled, "Well, I used to hate vegetables but Kval finally made me like them. He kept making me eat a carrot with every meal, so I just guessed three and that happened to be the answer. It was luck."
"I think I might start eating carrots now," Emeral joked, parting ways to sit at her desk.
"So," Ms. Hupp said, class finally seated, "I guess those of you with sour faces lost and those of you with sweet faces won, huh?"
Her observation was met with corresponding gruffs, huffs and puffs or smiles, giggles and little jigs of victory.
"Well I don't mean to rain on your parades, but before we let out for Spring Break there's..." she bowed her head so that her eyes went in shadow, and lowered her voice to a menacing degree. "Report Cards..."
Now there were just gruffs, huffs, and puffs.
Ms. Hupp ignored them and mercilessly began handing out the report cards. Each one came in a white envelope like a letter from the mail. The envelopes weren't sealed, so the kids always pulled them out and shared their grades with those around them, especially if they were better.
"Angela, Arnold, Cathy, Lyza..."
The little envelope fell into the rabbit's paws. It felt cold, like it was sucking all of the temperature out of her, Celsius or Fahrenheit. She bit her lip, and opened the flap. She took in a breath, let the tri-fold unfurl, and then opened her eyes.
She had only one C. The rest were either Ds or... Fs.
Possibility of failure. Counseling required.
The announcements had come on late and the final bell rang, so the class ignored the overhead speaker and everyone immediately rushed to their sides-of-beef backpacks.
The failure curtly refolded the report card, eager to shove it down her pack's throat and never see it again. She wouldn't let this ruin her break.
"Bam!"
She flinched as a report card was shoved in her face.
"All As," Rini said with gritty triumph. "How did you do, sixteen points?"
"Shut up, Rini," The rabbit growled, brushing past her.
"Aww what's the matter? You were so smug before."
"Leave her alone, Rini," Her friend warned, approaching with her backpack. "Here," the tigress said, offering it to the rabbit.
"Hmph. Well, I'm going to take my all As and go on Spring Break. Later losers! Bitty, Betty, wait up!"
Emeral swatted her friend's shoulder lightly, "C'mon, let's ditch this place."
The rabbit followed the tigress out into the hallway, following behind as Ket joined them. "So...um...how did you guys do?"
"I still have a C in math," Emeral said, "Everything else is okay, not great. And then there's Einstein over here," she pointed with her thumb.
"Mine aren't great either," Ket replied with a shrug.
"Yeah but that's cuz of your extra work. You still got an A in P.E."
"That doesn't really count..."
Emeral turned to her other friend, "How about you?"
"Uh..." She shifted her backpack, "I...I did okay."
"Good. When we get back, we're gonna have to take the RSBTs. I feel sorry for people that got anything below a C; they don't have a chance at the Really Stupid tests."
"Y-yeah," She muttered, raising a hand to her brow as they walked out into the sunlight.
"Anyway, Ket'n'me gotta go. Beach is waitin'!" They started to walk away, "We'll do something toward the end of the week, okay?"
"Kay," The rabbit replied, watching as her smart and perfect friends trotted down the sidewalk to enjoy their break.
She wished she was going with them; the beach sounded fun and she hadn't been since the summer. But she was left standing amidst the crowds of kids that waited for the cars to come and whisk them away from this stupid waste of a place.
She used to hate spring break. From the time she woke up to the time she went to bed, her brother was there, ready to do something bad. She would often stay up late those nights, to make sure he went to bed first. It wasn't any more intense than regular life, it was just for a longer period of time. It required endurance, that was all.
But now, as her brother's chameleon car changed from green to black, the sun shining off its leathery skin and heat waves rippling from its maw, she was dreading spring break for a different reason.
"Hey!" Her brother greeted happily as she climbed into the front seat. "How was your day?"
Mozart played from the speakers, barely audible.
"My team won a game in science class," she said drolly.
"All right," he cheered, stepping on the gas, "Whadja win?"
"We get to be the first ones to dissect frogs near the end of the year."
"Really? I know a girl that's taking Anatomy and Physiology; she says she dissects stuff all the time."
"She doesn't think guts and frogs are gross?"
"Some girls don't, ya know. I bet Emmy doesn't get grossed out about guts." He pressed the brake, and his car let out a whine. "Wooo, better get that checked,” he commented. “So...you look a little blue for someone whose team just won the chance to dissect frogs. Unless you're not looking forward to that part."
"No...I dunno..." His sister replied, resting her head against her palm. "I just..." She trailed, sighing a little. She sensed her brother's eyes glance at her for a second. The car slowed and the blinker clicked. He took a right turn and then went upwards just a tad. She started when he suddenly turned the car a little sharply, and when she looked out the window another car was right next to her door—in fact a lot of cars were, all lined up in a row.
The engine was cut. The car beeped a few times, but the radio kept playing and the AC kept blowing. The brother rabbit reached down the side of his seat and pulled at the reclining handle, throwing his arms up to rest behind his head as he lay nearly flat.
She waited for a whole fifteen seconds before finally asking, "Why'd we stop?"
"So you can tell me what's wrong," her brother replied softly.
She bit her lip, a pang of frustration hitting her. "It's no big deal," she insisted. "Don't worry about it."
"I'm your older brother," he retorted, "It's my job and duty to worry about it."
She grumbled and crossed her arms. "Don't you have to get back to class?" She pointed out.
"Nope. I can wait here all day. Besides, you're more important than Government any day."
A pang of guilt followed. "Kval, don't. You'll get in trouble," she groaned.
"Not as much trouble as you'll get into, if you don't tell me why you're pouting."
That got her goat. She started fuming a little, letting out an elongated whimper, crossing her arms tighter and making her shake her head. Finally she opened her eyes and huffed. "Fine. You wanna know so bad?"
He watched as her torso lunged downward, and her head bumped on the glove-compartment.
She let out a groan of pain, but kept at her task, practically ripping her backpack's zipper off. Her hand dove in, like a duck diving for fish, and pulled out an envelope. Without looking toward him, she threw it across the armrest between the seats, and it landed upon his stomach.
He picked it up immediately, examining it. Her name was printed very officially in the very center of the envelope, in Arial Black, size twelve font, bold-face. He lifted up the flap with his index finger, and slipped the contents out, all without averting his eyes from the name. The tri-fold paper unraveled. He saw the same thing she had seen: one C, a few Fs, the rest Ds. He read the same note: Possibility of failure. Counseling required. And then he folded the report card back up, placed it neatly back into the envelope, and handed it back to his sister.
She took it from him, placed it back into her backpack, and slumped back into her seat. It was done. Someone else knew. Not her parents, but they would find out soon enough. "What?" She asked, glancing at her brother. He had righted his seat and now he was resting his hands on the steering wheel, staring off into space.
"Just...thinking," he replied, and reached for the key. The engine scratched to life. He flicked the car into reverse, looked into his mirrors and backed out after a granny floated past him to a better parking spot. "Your grades were much better last time," he said, as he had seen and compared them on the card. "I don't know how they grade P.E. but I know you've been doing your schoolwork, right?"
She nodded with droopy cheeks.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, "Lyz...I wanna say it's a mistake but...do you have any idea why your grades are so low?"
"I dunno," she growled, "Maybe it's cuz I'm inadequate."
"Because...why?"
"Because I'm inadequate, okay!?" She shouted, "I'm dumb. I'm a moron. I'm sthoo-pid. And I only have a C in P.E. cuz the coaches think I don't have good sportsmanship."
"Good what?"
"Sportsmanship!" She hollered, "What are you, deaf?"
"A little, now that you mention it," he said sarcastically, but his sister would have none of it. She physically turned on her rump just enough so that she was sitting on her side, her back facing him. But this wouldn't last very long as he turned onto their street, and slowed down in front of their house. He put the car in neutral, and took in a deep breath.
"Have a good rest of the day," she muttered, sliding out of the car.
"Hey. Hey!" her brother called as she was about to shut the door. She paused. "If you're hungry, there's a sandwich in the fridge."
The door clicked as it was gently forced shut.
She walked up the driveway, dug the key out of the flowerpot next to the door, unlocked the house, and went inside. She saw her brother drive away through the edges of the stained-glass window, and felt a little bad for being so mean to him. But she was in a sour mood, and it was making her hungry. Of course her brother already thought of that; he thinks of everything because he's just so great it's sickening.
She dropped her backpack against the wall, and placed her shoes on the stand. With sock-muffled thumps she traversed the honeycomb hallways into the kitchen. Dividing the kitchen from the rest of the house was a brass bar, separating the wooden floor from the wispy brownish tile of the culinary domain.
The kitchen was the brightest naturally-lit room of the house, excluding bedrooms. In the wintertime it was even brighter, for the sun was directly behind the windows during the evening hours. The room itself was roughly in the shape of a 'C'. Starting at the top was the entrance from the living room into the kitchen, and as one walked down to the bottom of the letter they would pass counter tops, cupboards, the dishwasher, sink, and stove on the right; and on the left, the fridge and a two-tier black oven which looked several decades old and used.
From the oven, the smell of burning and grease always pervaded, like it was a bad child that never bathed, ever-ever. The sink was usually drippy, and her mom had always stated she wanted to replace it.
At the very bottom of the C-shaped kitchen there was a table beneath a window shielded by cream-colored blinds. This table was so well situated in its little nook that it gave the atmosphere of sitting at a corner booth inside of a breakfast café, complete with a long seat that had been cut short to fit inside the recessed space.
She stopped at the fridge, which was just to her left as she entered the kitchen. As her brother had stated, inside the deli drawer was indeed a summer-sausage sandwich, made with American Cheese and a bit of mayonnaise. Their family was notorious for not throwing anything away until it actually expired, which included the summer-sausage from just after New Years. She also retrieved a Sunny-D, which was not anywhere near its expiration, thankfully.
Upon shutting the door, she noticed a note, tacked on by a green letter-F magnet: "Went to Uncle Eino's. Will be back Wednesday. For pizza →"
The arrow pointed to six twenty-dollar bills. Note understood and sandwich in hand, she made her way to the table and sat upon the long seat. The sound of the faux leather stretching beneath her weight was a close cousin to snow crunching underfoot. Not many more sounds came after that, at least none from inside.
She liked the quiet, which she knew was supposed to be very much against her nature as a kid. But there were times when the commotion of the outside world was just fine where it was, and the tranquility of the quiet inside needn't be disturbed.
In this moment of peace, she managed to detach her worry and anger and frustration completely.
She took her time to eat the sandwich her brother made for her.
He had been cooking quite a bit lately. It was his usual morning routine to have oatmeal or bagels ready for her breakfast, and to eat with her even though he didn't go to school until a couple hours later. But he had progressed on to helping mom with dinner, which made home-life much better. Mom more or less accepted him ever since he went clean, but even dad was beginning to come around, now that he was volunteering to do more around the house.
Tummy happy, the taste of orange juice still tickling the center of her tongue, she suddenly felt that the place was too quiet and lonely. She was used to being home alone for the short two hours her brother had to go back to school, but this was one of those rare occasions where it filled her with a sense of...of...
Her eye-lids fell to half-lidded. There was probably a word, but she didn't know it. She didn't know anything. She needed something to distract her, some way to get out of the here and now. Luckily, that's what TV was for.
She slid out of the café-bench and crossed the brass bar into the house proper. In a few turns she found the exact room she wanted, which for anyone else outside her family would take possibly half an hour. In her house one was more likely to find Wonderland than where one wanted to be.
The crisp-looking TV was very odd, in the sense that it felt misplaced in such an antique-looking home. It sat attentively on a table meant for televisions like it, with a DVD player and two extra speakers hooked up to it.
She hopped onto the couch and pushed the big red button on the remote. The orange light on the TV at the bottom-center changed to blue, and a moment later the sound and screen came to life, showing the news.
Bor-ring.
She pushed the number-buttons to change it to HUB, having figured out the number-buttons were much faster than the channel-up and -down buttons only a little while ago. The boring weatherman in a suit just as black as his fur was replaced by Poneyville.
But even a show about her favorite animal would be no match for the sudden weariness that came over her as she switched from sitting to lying on the couch. The soft cushions practically snuggled her into a slumber before she even realized it was happening.
