Private 01 - Private by Kate Brian

Author:Kate Brian [Brian, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781416918738
Published: 2006-06-26T14:00:00+00:00

On Monday morning at the end of class, Mr. Barber handed back our quizzes from the previous Friday. He walked up and down the aisles, slapping the papers face down on each desk.

“As you may or may not know, I work on what some people call an unorthodox grading system,” he said as people grabbed up their quizzes and either groaned or grinned. “In my class there is no C. There is no D. There is only A for excellent, B for satisfactory, and F. You all know what F means. This means that, while quite a few of you have passed this quiz, several of you have failed,” he added. He paused by my desk and the pungent scent of stale coffee enveloped me. With a flourish, he handed me my paper, face up toward the room, for everyone around me to see. Red marks everywhere, topped by a big, fat F.

I took the paper from him, hot tears stinging my eyes. He looked disgusted as he turned away. “Those of you who have failed might want to consider spending a bit more time in the library this week. Friday’s quiz will feature double the questions.”

Mr. Barber sat down at his desk and jotted a few things in his notebook. “Good day,” he said, reaching for his coffee. And on cue the bell rang.

I stood up, staring down at the page, doing the math quickly in my head. Thirty-seven of fifty questions right. That was a 74. I had gotten a 74 and received an F. What kind of psycho school was this? How could the dean let Barber get away with this?

Missy scoffed as she walked by me. “Guess we’re not in PS 31 anymore, huh?”

One day I was going to shove something up her nostril. Seriously.

“Oooh, sorry,” Constance said, wincing as she fell into step with me on the way out the door. “Want to study with me next time? I have this whole flash card system that really works.”

I stared at Mr. Barber as she ushered me out of the room, wondering how sad and miserable a person you would have to be to torture innocent kids like this. He must have felt me watching him. Had to feel the heat of my glare. But he never looked up from his book. His refusal to acknowledge me just made me hate him more.

But by the end of the day, I started to wonder if Mr. Barber had been right to give me that F. Several of my teachers handed back grades from last week’s work and with each one my heart had sunk lower. Clearly, here at Easton, I was no longer an A student. But at least the other teachers were kind enough to stick to the traditional grading system.

Aside from the C on my art history oral, there was a C+ in French, a B- in Trig, and a C on an English paper I had written on Upton Sinclair. Apparently even a paper about one of my favorite authors, written for one of my favorite classes, wasn’t going to save me.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.