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Most teachers reserved the first day of school for introductions and games, but not Nils. His students always got right to work. He sat at his desk, carefully watching the biology students as they completed a worksheet. He was also listening for anyone chatting with their neighbors. It had been made very clear that they were to refer to their books if they needed help, and therefore avoid distracting each other. If they did talk to their classmates, they were usually subjected to a look and a reprimand from Mr. Jensen. If the misbehavior continued, he might assign detention, but he was hoping he wouldn't have to today. So far, they seemed to be behaving themselves quite nicely. Nils allowed himself to turn his attention back to the paperwork that sat at his desk, hoping they would continue to do so.
Azariah sighed with boredom and exasperation as she looked down at the math worksheet, wishing she could make the trigonometry go away or at the very least be easier to understand. Antoine wasn't in this class either, which didn't help. In fact, they didn't have any classes together this semester. She knew he would be in English right now, being the loner that he was. She wished she could be there with him right now, and not having to face these complex equations. Who, exactly, had invented trigonometry, and why? As a torture device? It was only the first day! Why were they being handed this monstrosity?
"Get to work, Miss Soule."
With another loud sigh, Azariah reluctantly accepted her fate and got to work. Or at least, she tried to. Just as she wrote her name at the top of the paper, she accidentally flicked her wrist and sent her pencil flying across the room.
Antoine glanced at the syllabus the English teacher had given them, flipping through the pages about what they would learn, what kind of books they would be reading, and what was expected of them. He knew that if Azariah was here right now, she'd either be filling the pages with drawings or providing commentary, or both. She had been so hurt when she saw their schedules and realized they had no classes together this semester, but he had tried to persuade her that it was for the best. Still, it was weird to turn and not see the fiery redhead next to him, or to hear the sound of a quiet classroom. Whether he was willing to admit it or not, she had really grown on him.
Antoine forced himself to concentrate, to focus on the words the teacher was saying. She was reading from the section that described what their grades would ultimately consist of, and so he quickly flipped to that page. He remembered how, one day when he was particularly bored, he had teleported his teacher into the schoolyard. Then, while she was gone, he had gone through her desk. Being here at Brookrose meant his propensity for trouble had quickly been extinguished, and that he could no longer teleport anyone or anything but himself. Even then, he only really did it when he was alone or as a last resort when he was in a hurry.
He had to graduate. He had to. Had to get good grades. He forced himself to concentrate, thinking, where would he be if he didn't graduate?
A little ways off from the small testing room was another, slightly larger room where the students waited for their names to be called. It was similar to any other waiting room, made up of chairs and with a few odd things to read. Robert was there, absentmindedly cleaning his glasses and listening to the conversations of the others. He knew the testing had to do with their abilities, and that it would ultimately determine whether or not they graduated. He remained confident, though; he hadn't had any mishaps for almost two years now. The girl next to him, however, seemed to be the opposite. It was obvious just by looking at her that she was extremely nervous, and was even slightly pale as though with illness. Feeling like he should help, Robert gave her a friendly smile and said, "Waiting is always the worst part. The test is really fast."
She turned to him then, her light brown eyes wide with fear. They had been tested before, but to her it was never any less nerve-wracking, and it only became even more so as the year progressed. He seemed to understand that on some level, and she gradually tried to relax in response, to let her guard down. She let out a shuddering sigh and put a bit of loose hair behind her ear, feeling her hand shaking as she did.
"I know... I shouldn't be scared... b-but I am."
"You'll be fine."
Robert smiled at her again, but she blushed and looked away. After a few moments, she began to nervously play with her hair again and Robert decided he should probably clean his glasses again. There wasn't much else to do until his name was called. As he had said, waiting was the worst part.
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