Whispers During Free Period

“Nothing is coming out the way I want! I hear it in my head, and it sounds good, but then I write it out and it hits the ear wrong, or seems stupid, or overly wordy, or bad, just plain…” Ms. Kraznecky cut me off before I could spiral anymore, “…Hold on, Penny. Take a beat, where is all this coming from? Is this about the assignment?” She said gesturing me to the seat across from her desk. I sat down with an exaggerated sigh, “I just… I have all these ideas and scenarios in my head for wrwasing something fun or imaginative, but this prompt is too…” Ms. Kraznecky shot me her trademarked look that she gave when a kid is about to make a big mistake. Almost like she was waiting for me to say the wrong thing so she could pounce on it. “…Go on, Penny. Too what?” I shrunk in my seat before answering, “…too…broad…for what I want to write about. Yeah, that’s it.” She smirked and said, “That’s what I thought you were going to say.” Ms. Kraznecky thought for a moment and then started asking, “What have you got so far?

I got my laptop out of my bag, carefully shoving aside all the other items that I deemed necessary enough to throw in here, but not necessary enough to organize. Finally, after sorting through the myriad of crumpled papers and loose make up products, I opened up the file and showed her my three paragraphs of ‘work’. A bunch of roundabout sentences, making no claim or point, that read like a shopping list. As Ms. Kraznecky finished her review, she took off her reading glasses and said, “Yeah, it’s bad. I wouldn’t want to read this again If you paid me.” My head fell into my lap as I pushed back tears. Ms. Kraznecky’s review style had always been brutally honest, it’s what made her so well liked among the students. Kids would laugh as they would read through her red marks on their papers, pointing out their many flaws. In fact, after I had her English class last year and got to experience her honesty firsthand, she became my go to confidant for my writings. If only, my skin had gotten thick enough to take her criticisms without crying.

“I know, it is bad, but what can I do?” I said, quickly sniffling to cover up my watery eyes. “Well, it’s almost like you don’t want to write the prompt.” I looked at her with a quizzical face, “Duh! I said that when you handed it out.” She drooped her head, “And after class was over, and when I saw you the next day, and when you were complaining about it at lunch, and even now as you sit here during your only free period. You choose to spend your time complaining.” I looked down at the floor a bit embarrassed. “Penny, what is it about this prompt you don’t like? ‘Write about a conversation that you were not supposed to hear.’ It should be easy for a writer of your caliber!” She said with a bit of enthusiasm, trying to get me excited about it. “It…just seems…rude? Like, I am not supposed to hear it, so I wouldn’t listen.” She scoffed, “Oh please. Penny, you mean to tell me you have never eavesdropped on a conversation?” “No! That’s what makes it rude.” Ms. Kraznecky put her head in her hands, “Well, that’s the solution! No wonder you couldn’t relate to it because you have never done it! Just go eavesdrop on someone and write about it.” “Can’t I just make up a scene and then write about that?” Ms. Kraznecky smiled her coy smile, “Nope. The reason I wanted you all to write about a conversation that YOU were not meant to hear, is because I want this to be a litmus test for your skills. When people do things they are not supposed to, they tend to stick out in their minds more so than the everyday comings and goings. I want to feel what you felt in that moment. Put me in the space, I want to feel like I am right next to you overhearing the same thing you are. How are you feeling? Why are you not supposed to hear? Is it scandalous?”

She closed the lid on my laptop and handed it back, “Go out and eavesdrop on someone, Penny. Then write it out. Simple as that. A writer like you, this is nothing.” I sat up a little taller in my seat, “But, I don’t want to write about it.” She scoffed and said, “Tough. Going to be a lot of things you have to do but don’t want to do.” I smirked, “I mean, technically, I don’t have to do it.” “If you want the credit for the assignment then you have to do it.” Bolting upright in my seat at the notion I almost screamed, “But that’s not fair! I have turned in every other assignment, can’t I get one free skip for an assignment? Like once a year, every student gets one skip?” Ms. Kraznecky let out a deep sigh, “That would be counterproductive to the lesson I am trying to teach you. Enough, get it done.”  

She shooed me out of the classroom, either because she had no more ‘wisdom’ to share, or because she no longer wanted to hear me complain. I meandered around the school trying to motivate myself. “Why can’t I just make something up? Ms. Kraznecky wouldn’t know the difference. It’s not like she is stalking me, making sure I do it. Yeah. Yeah!” I found an empty bench in the main courtyard, determined to do the assignment my own way. It was the middle of the day and classes were still going on. Strange seeing the courtyard so empty, but they would all just be distractions while I work.. Shading from the large tree in the courtyards center made the bench the perfect spot to write. “Yeah, I will do the assignment alright, Ms. Kraznecky.” I thought to myself, convinced this was the best, and only, course of action that made sense.

I started writing my story, and the words flowed from my fingers. The trepidations of the assignment prompt that had plagued me earlier were a thing of the past. I wrote a scene about a boy taking his girlfriend aside behind one of the school buildings during lunch. The boy went on about how he had fallen in love with the girl’s best friend, and how they were going to go to the dance together. A little generic but I wasn’t going for a Pulitzer with this one, just good enough to get it done.

I was finishing up the last paragraph as the bells rang for the end of the period. The students started pouring out into the courtyard, either on their way to their next class, or causally strolling along looking to occupy their free period. “I will have to finish this up after Bio.” I said as I started gathering my things. Suddenly, I heard, “Shhhhh, shhh not so loud.” The noise was coming from around the massive tree in the center of the courtyard. “No Travis! This is insane!” I scrolled through the names in my head of my fellow classmates for a Travis. The only one that came to mind was Travis Hughes. A typical jock, but he is confident he is going to play football in college. “Aww c’mon, it’s not that uncommon.” “You got my sister pregnant, and you are just going to say, ‘it’s not that uncommon.’ Like grow up, you pig!” “Shhh, Ashley. Come here.” The woman must be Ashley Simpkins, a gorgeous track star who is almost guaranteed to go to States in the 400m this year. Her and Travis have been dating since sophomore year.

I found myself moving ever so slowly, worried that the slightest motion would blow my cover and they would notice me. “This is it.” I thought to myself, “This is scandalous, and I definitely am not supposed to hear this.” With that I looked around trying to see if anyone else had noticed the lover’s quarrel. Thankfully, everyone was too preoccupied with their own lives to notice, or care, about a young couple speaking whispers in the corner. I slowly got up from the bench and walked closer to the tree, using it as cover, straining my ears to hear their conversation.

“Well, what should I do?” asked Travis in a sheepish voice. “I don’t care.” Ashley said as she started to cry. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Ashley scoffed and raised her voice again, “Oh really? You didn’t want to hurt me? Were you thinking about that when you were humping my sister? Was that before or after you flirted with her in front of my face? I know you saved her number in your phone as ‘Chuck’ so it would seem like you were texting one of your friends. God I’m so stupid, you don’t even know a Chuck! I should have seen this; the signs were there. Like when you took me out to a birthday dinner, on HER BIRTHDAY! Or when you would ask me when I would be coming home every day. Or when…” She started to sniffle but composed herself, knowing she had to get these emotions out or they would be bottled up and hurt her later. “…or when you said, “It will be fine” that night at the lake house a couple weeks ago…”

There was a long pause. I had my face pressed against the stump of the tree completely glued to the conversation. I had never felt this sense of thrill before. I got excited at the idea of getting caught, of me being an interloper in this very personal conversation. “I hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me.” I said to myself keenly waiting for Travis to reply.

“What do you mean?” he said practically vocalizing his slack-jawed confusion. “C’mon Travis use your head for once.” There was another long pause as he contemplated what the answer could be, before finally she had enough of the ignorance, “I’m pregnant, you stupid idiot!” She broke down and started crying, unable to contain herself after the reveal. I slapped my hand to my mouth to stop my audible gasp from being heard. Travis could do nothing but say, “Damn… I guess this is a bad time to say that I got a football scholarship to play in Virginia.” Her cries stopped and then a loud smack of flesh on flesh echoed around the tree. “HEY! That hurt!” yelled Travis. “Yes. Yes, you colossal man child! You think you can go off to the other side of the country and play football, like this isn’t happening?! Absolutely not!”

I slapped my other hand to my mouth to stop myself from gasping again. “This is becoming a domestic situation really quickly. Maybe it is time to make my great escape.” I thought to myself as I began tiptoeing away from the tree. The screeching ring of the warning bell was perfect for my getaway. Through the hustle and bustle of students trying to get into their classrooms before they would be counted as tardy, provided excellent cover for me to slip in and become lost in the sea of people.

Biology class seemed unimportant, as the only thing I wanted to do was write down the conversation I overheard. As soon as the final bell rung I practically ran home and got to work writing out the conversation. As I sat at my desk, the words flowed like water as I went about describing the scene. I used only first names, in an effort to protect some anonymity. I was so engrossed in writing that I didn’t hear my mother yelling at me to come eat dinner. After another hour, my work was complete. I reviewed it, fixed some spelling errors and rearranged a few sentences, until it read like a gossip catalogue. It wasn’t until now that I realized that Ms. Kraznecky had essentially sent us out to find rumors and write about them. A little strange, but I didn’t care, I had finished the assignment.

The next day I turned it in and thought nothing of it. A few days went by, and I was already engaged in writing a story about a space crew lost on a wrecked starship. The fallout from that conversation echoed throughout the school as Travis and Ashley soon broke up and nobody knew why. During my free period, an announcement went out around the school, “Penelope Adler, please report to Ms. Kraznecky’s room please. Thank you.” It’s not very often I get called on the school wide intercom, but Ms. Kraznecky wouldn’t call me unless it was important. As I opened the door to her classroom. Ashely Simpkins was sitting across from Ms. Kraznecky’s desk. Immediately she scowled at me, “How did she know about what I wrote?” I thought to myself, pulling up a chair beside her.

“Thanks for coming Penny. Ashley here has some problems with the story you wrote.” “Which one?” I asked, knowing the answer already. Ashley blurted out, “The one about me! Tiffany is our long jumper on the team, and she is in your class and had that assignment, when you all shared your stories to each other, she texted me and asked. I had to lie and say Travis and I are fine.” I looked down a little embarrassed. “Looks like I might not get credit for this story after all.” I thought to myself with my head in my hands.