Rolling Dice [sample]

9: Rolling Dice

Hello! I think this upload's on time, but frankly, I forgot to check, so I'm uploading now whether it's late, early, or on time. Hope you all like it :)

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Chapter 9

Physics is literally three rooms away from where I had biology class earlier, so it’s easy to find. But I still turn up late, dragging my feet the entire way there because I’m so grudging to go to AP freaking Physics. The bell has already rung when I finally reach the door to Room 31: Physics, Dr. Anderson.

Pausing for a minute, I gulp slightly. My teacher’s not just a Mr. or Mrs. Anderson. They’re Dr. Anderson. Doctor. They are so going to give me detention for being late… Great. Detention on my first day – it just doesn’t get any better…

I take a deep breath, and then sigh heavily as I push at the door.

Except it doesn’t open.

I sigh again, this time a heck of a lot more frustrated, and I jiggle the door handle, twisting it right and then left, and shoving my shoulder into the door. And, of course, when I hurl myself at the door, it flies open. Typical.

Today is really just going totally swell.

I fly into the room, clutching the handle on the door tight so I don’t fall on my face for the second time today. My heels sound unnervingly loud on the laminate tile flooring in the sudden silence of the classroom.

“Late, as well,” says a voice. He doesn’t sound too pleased, either. “Miss… Clarke, isn’t it?”

“Um…” I pry my shaky fingers off the door handle. It’s stupid, but my hands are trembling at the thought of a teacher being displeased with me and actually giving me detention. So I may not have been a model student in Pineford, but heck, I never got detention!

“Um, yes,” I answer the teacher. He sure looks like a Dr. rather than just ‘Mr.’ I think. His hair is thick and white, and his thin silver-rimmed glasses are perched on top of his head. He has a bony, crooked nose, and he wears a long white lab coat.

“You’re late, Miss Clarke,” Dr. Anderson reiterates. I must look as distracted as I really am, since he sounds a little bit tetchy with me.

“Sorry,” I say, then add in an undertone, “Nobody ever said I didn’t know how to make an entrance though…”

I say it quietly enough that I think he can’t hear me, and a few people in the front row nearest me stifle a laugh, which makes me feel a little less nervous. But even Dr. Anderson chuckles – he must have superhuman hearing or something.

“Um, Dr. Anderson?” I say, edging closer to his desk after pushing the door shut behind me. “There was a mix up with my transcripts… I’m not actually meant to be in this class.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Apparently there aren’t any classes for me to move into.”

“Hmm. And how good are you at physics, Miss Clarke?”

“Not very.” I smile innocently, just to enforce that I’m not being modest, I’m perfectly serious.

Dr. Anderson sighs through his wonky nose and closes his eyes, pinching his fingers to his closed eyelids like he’s got a bad head. “Perfectly capable students and they can’t fit them into the class, and no wonder, if they keep messing up schedules.” Then he says, in a louder voice, “Alright, Miss Clarke, you’ll have to grin and bear this class for the time being.”