Post by nileki on Jan 14, 2009 17:54:51 GMT -5
Jasper stretched his legs out in front of him, taking advantage of the few extra minutes that he had when he arrived at his English IV class. He may have been the new kid on the block, but unlike most of Forks High's student body, Jasper didn't spend very much time chatting to friends as he worked his way through the choked halls. Normally, he would have been sitting next to Alice, but because he had been accepted to be put into the higher level of English, he spent seventh period with a group of slightly unruley seniors.
The rumors that floated through the halls said that Mrs. Quinn was a bear, a teacher to be feared and respected above all else. This was nothing new. He'd had worse, and if anything, he liked the strict teachers because they were better able to control their classes and keep him sane for fifty minutes or so. Jasper preferred to be in a strict environment compared to the "nice" teacher's classes, simply because he could deal with the emotional climate better. The difference was like paddling across a swifly running creek as compared to white-water rafting.
This was his second day in class, and without any argument, Jasper took a seat as far back as he could. From his corner, he could peruse the various tattered books that lined the black shelves near him, titles ranging from Beowulf to The Ryme of the Ancient Mariner. Today nerves were high because Mrs. Quinn had told the class to memorize the entire poem for the Ancient Mariner. And like most normal teenagers, the class was deathly afraid of public speaking. Already, Jasper felt his heartrate try to increase in response to the pale, chattering students that filed in, each of them fighting to stay away from the front four seats.
He was not appreciating the atmosphere these small recitals caused, and he hadn't been in class for a week yet!
Jasper sorely missed Alice, both by the comfort she provided, and the distraction from his constant fight for control over his instincts. His throat tickled just by the thought of blood, even though he had hunted earlier in the morning before he came to Forks High. The teacher's own bored, sluggish mood swept into the room, mixing with the already present tension like an oily tide.
Jasper let out a fake yawn, gold eyes watching the last few minutes on the clock, patiently waiting for the old bell to wheeze out another ring or two. He allowed a small wave of comfort to float out to the students around him, trying to get them to calm down. Public speaking wasn't going to kill them, nor did anyone think any less of you. It was simply confronting your own fears and continuing on, staring at your teacher like you were trying to prove something.
The rumors that floated through the halls said that Mrs. Quinn was a bear, a teacher to be feared and respected above all else. This was nothing new. He'd had worse, and if anything, he liked the strict teachers because they were better able to control their classes and keep him sane for fifty minutes or so. Jasper preferred to be in a strict environment compared to the "nice" teacher's classes, simply because he could deal with the emotional climate better. The difference was like paddling across a swifly running creek as compared to white-water rafting.
This was his second day in class, and without any argument, Jasper took a seat as far back as he could. From his corner, he could peruse the various tattered books that lined the black shelves near him, titles ranging from Beowulf to The Ryme of the Ancient Mariner. Today nerves were high because Mrs. Quinn had told the class to memorize the entire poem for the Ancient Mariner. And like most normal teenagers, the class was deathly afraid of public speaking. Already, Jasper felt his heartrate try to increase in response to the pale, chattering students that filed in, each of them fighting to stay away from the front four seats.
He was not appreciating the atmosphere these small recitals caused, and he hadn't been in class for a week yet!
Jasper sorely missed Alice, both by the comfort she provided, and the distraction from his constant fight for control over his instincts. His throat tickled just by the thought of blood, even though he had hunted earlier in the morning before he came to Forks High. The teacher's own bored, sluggish mood swept into the room, mixing with the already present tension like an oily tide.
Jasper let out a fake yawn, gold eyes watching the last few minutes on the clock, patiently waiting for the old bell to wheeze out another ring or two. He allowed a small wave of comfort to float out to the students around him, trying to get them to calm down. Public speaking wasn't going to kill them, nor did anyone think any less of you. It was simply confronting your own fears and continuing on, staring at your teacher like you were trying to prove something.