We are stepping back into memory land.
The “Little One” and myself, one year, ended up in the same class in high school. We had an English teacher she was, in our opinion typically British. She used to wear some interesting clothing from green, yellow to red that were so bright they could have been seen from the moon.
She wasn’t like the other teachers she was tense than laid back. We had her a couple of times during the week.
The layout of the table in the room was a “U” shape. My sister and I used to seat near each other. Usually we had some seats between us.
We never listened during her classes, instead we were mostly talking, drawing and doodling to pass the time.
One day I discovered what most teens would discover the highlighters I had were bleeding on to the other pages of my notebooks. I decided to do one fun drawing during classes with those highlighters. It was fun but also extremely entertaining. Especially when I realized the highlighters were bleeding to the other pages.
In those days the highlighters smelled so bad it was awful, but since I had nothing better to do I liked using them.
One day, out of blue, I decided to open my notebook and create new drawings. It was at the beginning of her class. She just finished calling our names for attendance. As I was starting to draw my latest chef-d’œuvre, the stench of the highlighters started to spread in the room.
The teacher started to walk around her desk going toward the auto player for the day’s lesson. Somehow the smell of my highlighters reached her as she turned on the auto player. She then proceeded to stop the auto player. Asking students who were sitting nearby it if they too could smell burning.
Everyone started to let her know “yes”. She started the player again while I was still using the highlighters. She stopped the player, stating this time it would be better since the smell was getting stronger. At that point I looked at everyone showing off the highlighters, I stated loudly it was my highlighters not the player.
My sister frown at me, everyone at that point had figured out it was my highlighters but decided to mislead the teacher. The teacher listens to everyone telling her yes it would be best to not use the player but instead do the class by having her give us the sentences for us to repeat.
We spent the hour without the auto player. When we left the class, we were all laughing. She never realized it wasn’t the auto player that was on fire but the stench of the highlighters.