"Eleanora! Are you paying attention?"
My head snaps up, "Huh? What? Yep, answer is 32."
The class around me sniggered. I groaned. My head had been absorbed in music and sketching on my jean shorts and backpack. We stopped in the parking lot of the Museum, and the teachers were both staring at me. I was at the back of the bus still, while everyone was pushing and shoving to get out.
Mr. Brunner, our History teacher, and Mr Miles the art were leading this trip. And our wonderful math teacher Ms Black, a thin frail woman with a bird beak like nose and tiny evil beady eyes. She was from Georgia, who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to the school same time as I did, halfway through the year, when the last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.
Ms Black would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.
One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight. I complained through a lot of yawning the next day in art to Mr Miles, I didn't think Ms Black was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."
Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He taught me history and came to the school about the same time I did- after I was kicked out of my last school. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.
That and Art.
Mr Miles was a short man with a huge curly afro. He was short stock and had huge shoulders that he could probably bench press Mr Brunner. He walked with a limp, he never said why, and I never asked. He was cool. Always sliding me paper to doodle on, he also liked to chat about the band t shirts I came to school with. They were the only teacher I liked. Actually they were the only people in the school I liked.
As I trudged off the bus behind the class. I had hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.
Boy, was I wrong.
See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway. And after that, at my seventh grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the old Broadway theatre, somehow the backstage burst into flames- it was not my fault they still used candles to light the stage, but somehow the whole theatre just erupted in a giant explosion. 911 was there, someone had called the bomb squad...it was a huge thing.
And 2 years ago, they took us to the animal shelter for volunteer work and when I saw the living conditions of them I got mad... 911 was called and I was blamed for a sudden onset illness. Like I could cause that!
And another time, when we went to the children's hospital the people kept coming up to me and hugging me praising me for their healing. The principal demanded to know what kind of prank I was pulling. And he refused to believe me when I had no idea what was going on. Dad had to take me to a shrink to prove I was mentally stable.
And then another time... Well, you get the idea.
This trip, I was determined to be good, and nothing crazy was going to happen.
Becky Wesser the school bully had decided today was a good day to test my patience. She was throwing spit balls into the back of my head, as we assended the steps.
"Seriously...I'm going to kill her!" I grumbled, hoisting my backpack higher.
"I would advice against murder on a school trip." Mr Miles whispered back. He slid up beside me. "As a teacher I can't let you do that. Against school policy."
"Then look away. I promise to make it painless."
"I don't doubt it."
"What?"
"What?"
"You said...." I frowned at him. We were about the same height, which was weird, but whatever, his dark eyes kept mine, there was slight amusement behind them. I liked that Mr Miles was okay with the sass that slipped from my mouth constantly.
"Anyway...my dad didn't raise no fool. I could hurt her and make it look like an accident."
"Again, I don't doubt it. I saw your last biology test. It was 99.5%"
"Ya for some stupid reason I wasn't aloud a full mark...what is it with you teachers, gotta have a quota, can't be handing out perfect marks? The more delinquent kids the more money the school gets?"
He chuckled, shoving his hands into his leather jacket. "something like that. Now, I think you should catch up to the group, Miss Blofis. Mr Brunner is starting the tour right away."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes sir." I grumbled.
Mr. Brunner led the museum tour. He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.
It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.
He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, Ms Black would hiss at me.
I hung behind in the last section, looking at the old art.
"Pretty isn't it?"
I jumped. Standing beside me was a boy about 17. He had hair so blond it looked like sunshine. He was tall, built, tanned and in every sense the "hot guy."
"Yeah ..if you like stuff from thousands of years ago." I shrugged, still trying to figure out how this guy snuck up on me. The room was huge and echoey and I could still see the class moving down the hall, it wasn't like this place was silent, but I should have heard him.
He chuckled, "well, I'm sure at the time it was beautiful, they used what they had." His voice was a deep rich tenor, smooth as velvet and soft as feathers. It sent a weird shiver down my back.
"Yeah. I guess."
"You guess." The guy chuckled again, even his laugh was like a music. He smiled, his smile showed off perfect white straight teeth, his sunkissed bronze skin and his baby blue eyes...this was the typical dream boat Becky Wesser would swoon over.
"What do you do to show appreciation?"
"Appreciation to what exactly?"
"Anything." He shrugged, gauzing at the old broken pottery parts. "You struck me as a girl who knows beauty and can appreciate the beautiful things in life."
I frowned, what was this guy getting at. It was weird.
"If your implying yourself, you better check yourself sir, I can break each bone in your body while I name them."
"Okay, one, no no I was not implying myself, though I am pretty good looking, I'm a wee bit too old for you." He ran a hand through his perfectly shaggy beach waved blond locks. He turned to look at me, "And two," his baby-blue eyes lighting up in excitement, "you can? Like each and every single bone? Even the ones in your hand?"
"Even those. I have a thing for biology. And art."
"Well, now I'm intrigued, Miss ...?"
"Eleanora."
"Well Miss Ellie, I am quite intigued."
"So...do you know what's going on in this picture?" I asked the guy, pointing to the pottery behind the glass.
"I do, in fact. It's one of my favorite stories."
"Really? Leto's childbirth of Artimis and Apollo is your favorite?"
"It is indeed, Ellie!" His grinned again, flashing his white teeth and a dimple.
"Why?" I asked slightly confused.
"Because it's full of a mother's love and intrigue and drama! And if course Apollo! Tell me you know the story!"
"Of course." I shrugged and looked back at the pottery. "From the day he was born, Apollo had an adventurous life. He was the son of Zeus and his mistress, the Titaness Leto. When Zeus's jealous wife Hera found out about the pregnancy, she punished Leto, forbidding her from giving birth on land. By sending the deadly Python to chase her away. Leto found a safe refugee to give birth on Delos, which was a floating island, so it wasn't actually on land. Apparently there were also swans surrounding the place, I dunno how true that part is, but the rest... The delivery of Artemis was painless but the birth of Apollo lasted for nine whole days and nights because Hera, the nasty bitter vengeful witch, had kidnapped Eileithyia, the goddess of childbirth, preventing Leto from having an easy and painless labor. He was fed nectar and ambrosia after being born. This helped him to grow to a full-size god in one day. Apollo didn't mess around once he was grown. In more ways than one."
"I approve of your bitter hateride for Hera. She is a nasty piece of work, and absolutely not art work to be appreciated. But your dystane at the end there for the grown man is something to question."
"Well...he's kinda a fuckboy."
"Excuse me! Watch your launguage young lady!"
My cheeks heated up, but I narrowed my eyes and shrugged. "Well he was. He's going from one to the next always saying he's in love, but ya blink and he's onto the next pretty lady."
"Eleanora! How could you say such things!"
I went to answer him when my name was called, I turned around to see Ms Black standing in the door tapping her foot impatiently. I looked back to appolagize to the guy but he was gone. I opened my mouth and snapped it closed, looking around the room. He just vanished, disappeared into thin air. Frowning I turned back to Ms Black.
"No more dillidaling!" She snapped, "this happens again and you and I will wait on the bus for the remainder of the day."
I followed, still very confused about what just happened.
"Ahh Miss Eleanora, glad you could join us, we were just discussing the god of the sun."
"Helios? The god of the actual sun or Apollo the multifaceted aspect of Apollo?"
"Apollo." Mr Brunner said with a nod, "please explain."
"Well...Apollo was or is the god of practically everything - including but not limited to music, poetry, art, prophecy, truth, archery, plague, healing, sun and light. And although the god is always associated with the sun, the original sun god was the titan Helios, but everyone forgot about him so he just like went nah I'm out, and litterly handed the rains over to Apollo, and he's supposed to bring the sun into the sky every day. Helios, though, embodies the raw power and majesty of the sun. As the bringer of daylight and warmth, Helios symbolizes vitality, fertility; the raw power and magesty of the sun."
"Very good, Miss Blofis."
A kid snickered in the back, "Blofis. What an awful name."
I had to clamp my hands tight into fists I could feel them burning. I saw Mr Miles walk closer to the group of kids.
"Now," Mr Brunner went one, slightly louder, "your name."
"What about it?" I asked through clenched teeth.
"Eleanora...it's Greek origin meaning-"
"Shinning light. Yeah, I know."
"Very similar in...whats the word you teens use? Vibes? Very similar vibes."
I shrugged, "Oh. Ya...I guess." Not really knowing what else to say, the permanent marker in my fingers was spinning.
"Now, if you all would please follow Ms Black outside, we will be having lunch."
I hooked my thumbs into my backpack and followed the class. Ms Black's beady eyes followed me. I could hear Becky and her friends giggling and whispering I knew they were planning something. I sat alone, on the steps to the museum, in the small patch if sun I found. I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Closing my eyes and tipping my head back I just sat soaking up the sun. I always felt better sitting in the sun. My mood always improved, and I also felt like my strength came back.
I heard Mr Brunner's chair behind me and I turned my head.
"Miss Blofis. What held you up earlier?"
"Oh, some guy was asking me about the art."
"Oh? And?"
"It was the broken pottery with the pictures of Apollo and Artimis's birth."
"Indeed."
His eyes held something in them I couldn't read. I had a guy feeling he was holding something back, I always knew when grown ups weren't telling me the truth. But Mr Brunner was different. He never lied, but there were times when he didn't tell the full truth. It was like he knew how to tell half truths a find loop holes.
"Ya, it was weird. He was just like there. Asking me about art and appreciation, then asked me about the pottery and then when Ms Black called me he just... disappeared!"
"Interesting..." he was stroking his scruffy beard, he shook his head and looked at me hard.
"So, Eleanora, what can we learn from those Greek stories, and what can we learn from the art we see in the museums? How can we apply them to real life. And how your studies apply to it."
"Oh. Ummm..." I stammered, I had no idea. I ran my hand through my hair, it was a strawberry red, but reflected the sun making it look rose gold in the sun. I flipped it out of my face, and frowned at the history teacher.
"What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Miss Eleanora Blofis."
I wanted to get angry, this guy pushed me so hard.
I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!'" and challenged us, sword-point against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and trouble seems to follow me like my shadow, I had never made above a C- in my life, (except in Art and Biology)
No, he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.
I mumbled something about trying harder and he nodded sadly, and wheeled away to eat his lunch with Mr Miles.
I sat feeling miserable in my little spot of sunshine, spinning the marker in my hand I heard the unmistakable sounds of giggles from Becky and her gang of girls.
"Blofis... More like Blowfish." One girl giggled.
"Wonder if she blows anything else" Becky sniggered.
"Ya, probably Mr Brunner, she's like a little teacher's pet!"
I spun around, and was on my feet, I could feel my body temperature rising I hated these girls so much. They were mean, nasty and vicious. I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper."
But I was so mad my mind went blank. My hands opened and closed into fists. It was like my vision narrowed, everything going black around the edges and my hearing cut off. All I could see was their pulse drumming in their necks, hear the rhythmic beating in their heart, and steady breathing of their lungs. I blinked a few times trying to gain control of my anger but I swear my anger made me see things!
Becky and her group of girls all changed from your typical popular girl bullies to monsters. They all had bright white skin, flaming hair, fangs, one bronze leg and one donkey leg, and red eyes. I let out a wild scream, anger fear, co fusion and something else erupted from my burning body.
Suddenly the group of them, the group of mean nasty bullies were nothing, just a sand castle in a power fan. They exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and hisses like snacks and a chill of evil in the air, as if those girls with the glowing red eyes were still watching me.
What the heck just happened?
I knew this school trip would end in disaster.
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