'Nice weather isn't it?' she tried to start a conversation with Simon.
'Look, woman; I know this weather is much more different to the one in your home in Hell but just get to the point please.'
She looked insulted. She wanted to fight back, but she took one long deep breath. 'Simon, my whole life has been pretty much a mess. Ever since my brother disappeared, I started blaming myself for it. I felt so angry at myself that I started taking out my anger on you and Brendan. I was so blinded I couldn't see the pain I was causing you both. I'm really, really sorry.'
Simon glared at Brendan as if to say, "That's all I need to hear", then he turned his dreadful gaze at Samantha. 'I have lived a life of regret because of what you did to me. I hated my own mother for taking drugs. Do you know how many times I attempted to take my own life because of you, Samantha?' His eyes were swelling up with tears and an unquenchable flame of anger. He held four fingers to her face, 'Four times…Four times I have tried suicide: drowning, suffocation..,' he brought his fingers down one by one, '…injections and pills all because of you!' He wiped tears from his eyes.
She now felt her heart aching in pain, 'Simon…I'm really, really…'
'What, sorry? You must be insane, or are you just being Hell-erious? You think sorry will make things better? Many times have I ditched school and asked God to take my life. Each day I woke up, I cried because I knew I had to face you and the sick nickname you had chosen for me.' His eyes had become red.
Brendan knew this was becoming ugly. He wanted to stand up and stop this scene right away but something drew him back and he remained in his seat.
'So go ahead, Samantha,' Simon continued, 'keep tormenting me. It is what has made you feel good all these years, right?' Tears suddenly burst out from his eyes and he started crying.
She could not control her tears either and they flowed out and down her cheeks like a torrent. She stood up and sat beside him and laid his head in her bosom and started patting him softly on the back. 'It's okay, it's alright,' she kept saying.
Brendan couldn't tell if this sight was good or bad.
In class, Brendan's emotions were mixed with surprise and confusion. He glanced at Samantha and he shrugged at her in anticipation but she shrugged back in bewilderment.
Just then, Miss Putin came in, more accurately, marched in to the room with a scowl-ridden face. She did not even bother with a "Good-morning-boys-and-girls."
She said, 'I am not pleased with all performance. Samantha, I expected more than a C, and Brendan, you do worse…an F. Only one person surprise me in her performance; Natasha Andrews, she got a B.'
She blushed as people turned to look at her.
'Yes, it's a surprise,' she continued, 'From an E to a B. Well done, Natasha.'
She blushed even more in gratitude.
'As for the rest of you, it's just D, E, F, as if you got stuck in alphabet recital. I don't have mention Patricia Okerlund, she gets A all the time.'
Patricia was immersed in a book in front of her. She often carried books with her, even at recess. She did not bother to look up when she heard her name being mentioned but she continued with her reading. Her expression was of an officer who had received too many medals and was already used to it.
'You all know very well no teacher sends a warning the day before he or she gives a pop quiz. Next time, anyone who fail my pop quiz get detention.'
Buzzes and whispers of complain spread through the classroom.
'I'm not kidding,' she frowned daringly, 'I don't care if its half or three-quarters of the whole classroom. You must always study, there is no season when you give books rest, is that clear?'
The class mumbled a "Yes ma'am."
As the class moved out at dismissal time, Miss Putin called Brendan over to her desk. He could not discern the expression on her face; it was trapped between a mixture of disappointment and anger.
'Is something troubling you, Brendan?' she asked him in a concerned tone.
'No, ma'am,' he replied.
'Then why F? At least when you got Ds it showed you were trying but F simply means "Fooling around". '
He avoided eye contact as much as possible. He was too ashamed to face her.
'Is it about your adoptive father?' she asked him, her voice sounding even more motherly.
There was something about her voice that made him want to spill out all his secrets in front of her. Her character and tone were so comforting and soothing like a sweet lullaby to the delicate ears of a baby. She rarely judged but corrected and she never yelled. 'It's not that, Miss, I'm over it.'
'Then what is it, child? You know you can tell me anything?'
Brendan's heart softened with trust towards her. 'The pop quiz was just unexpected,' he answered.
She sighed, 'Don't ever disappoint me like this again, understood?'
'Yes, Miss.' He began walking away, his head bowed low in embarrassment.
She called him back.
'I tried to find out more about your biological parents but..,' she shook her head in regret.
'I understand. Knowing his name and location is enough.' He stood for a while in front of her.
'Is there something else, perhaps?' she asked him noticing that he had not left.
'Yes, um…That Anonymous guy who saved you…'
'What about him?' Her question did not carry any signs of annoyance.
'I know it's not my place but…what do you think of him?' He waited for a nonjudgmental answer.