…It could never be as simple as he tried to make it. He prides himself in being a tough but fare educator. However these students, when put in the same room together? Edward Lancer learned his lesson.
The Trio can never mix.
It was quite obvious that “The Trio”, as the school has affectionately dubbed them, didn’t associate with others much. They kept to themselves, with the occasional visit from Miss Gray. They were always a mystery. Always sneaking around. Joined at the hip everywhere they went. It looked more like Miss Manson and Mr. Foley were Mr. Fenton’s bodyguards.
However I had caught them, Mr. Baxter and Mr. Weston roughhousing in the halls. As an educator who values the safety of the students I did the logical thing in a situation like this. Detention for everyone. Regardless of the two sports players being the top dogs on their respective courts, disciplinary action must be taken.
They would report to my classroom after school and, since most of them are doing poorly in my class, and because of the test coming up, I have decided to hold an informal study session. They can ask questions, review past problems, whatever they might need. I even made study sheets for them to complete.
Ah, the final bell. Any minute now-BANG!
“Mr. Baxter, I would appreciate it if you didn’t slam the door.”
In a single file, as though they are headed to the gallows, they enter the room. Incredible how teenagers have turned exaggeration into an art form. They each take their seats. I sigh, this is going to be a long three hours.
“Alright people, I have decided that instead of wasting your time and mine, we will do something productive together.”
They groan, albeit quietly. I ask them to push the desks together to make one long table so we can begin the study session. As they are fixing the room, I notice that besides the obvious rivalry between Mr. Baxter and the trio, there seems to be an equally strong dislike for Mr. Weston. However it feels different. Almost as if he knows something about the trio.
“No Mr. Foley, you sit on the opposite side, yes it is necessary, no I will not change my mind”
After everyone has been seated I pass out the study sheets. The brooding is almost palpable. I will never understand teenagers, you try to help them but they rather hit the wall than admit you were right.
“All right people, begin the sheet and we will grade it together and discus what you got wrong”
The grumbling begins but they start anyway. Miss Manson is the first to finish. As expected, she is doing better than the rest. Then Foley, Weston and finally its down to Baxter and Fenton. They are done at about the same time. So we begin. All is going well, we made it down to about half of the material when a…disagreement happens.
“I told you Fen-toad the answer is none of the above! It’s obvious!”
“Shut up Dash, it’s obviously B, everyone got that”
“Um, I got A”
“Shut it Foley nobody asked you”
“Ugh can we just finish this please? I want to go home”
“Why so you can stalk us later?”
“Shut up Manson!”
“Grapes of wrath! Enough! The five of you back in your seats and behave like the young adults I hope you are”
They sit down. There is silence for about thirty seconds. However, as it always is, one of them always has to have the last word. And of course, being the sassy individual he is, Fenton opens his mouth and in a low voice says
“The answer is still B you moron”
“WHAT’D YOU SAY TO ME FENTON!?”
And that was it. The room exploded into arguments and insult slinging. Nobody could hear me over their own screeching. I slump down in my chair, disgruntled by the sheer hatred between the sophomores.
Baxter shot out of his seat to tower over Fenton. Fenton pointing out his flaws. Weston trying to sway me to his side about Fenton being Phantom. Manson screaming at the top of her lungs and flinging paper. The only normal one is Foley, but then again he is the kid that can smell meat from a mile away…
Bronze Age Jet Necklaces, 2200 to 1900 BCE, Weston Hall Museum and Gallery, Sheffield, 8th October 2017.
It is highly likely that the second and third necklaces were made by the same craftsperson; they were buried with a woman and a child respectively. The first necklace comprises jet, shale and bone and was found in a barrow near to Arbor Low in Derbyshire. All three pieces are finely crafted and may have been heirlooms. Some of the beads are several generations old.