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Test. Bottom drawer. Send as a snap?
That was all the text said. No plan. No follow-up.
“How?” I responded.
Across the class Aubree smiled her goofy ‘Aubree smile,’ and gestured towards the hall with a flick of her head.
The two of us whispered back and forth as we made our way to the farthest possible set of washrooms in the school.
“Mr. Brue always leaves the room right after second period to get lunch….” Aubree started. “I stand in the hall and keep watch, you go into his drawer, pull it out, snap a pic, and we run.”
“How do we get in the room?” I questioned.
“We stay in it.” She responded.
“How? He won’t let us….”
“Dump your bag. We’ll stay to clean up!”
I hesitated…. I didn’t like the risk. But I also didn’t like math tests. And I really liked Aubree.
At the bell my sidebag, lunch and all, went flying off my desk onto the floor.
Though it ruffled Mr. Brue a little, he left us to clean it and scrambled away for lunch.… Just like we planned.
Drawer. Unlocked.
Test. In Hand.
Snap. Complete.
Door. Opening.
Aubree?
Nope.
“Carter?” said Mr. Brue.
About the Creator
Adam Clost
Canadian teacher & globetrotter
Reader of a wide variety of non-fiction (science/physics, philosophy, sociology/anthro/history) and science fiction (recently Chinese Sci-Fi).
Hobbyist writer, mostly Sci-Fi, for fun and as a creative outlet.
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