Cool School Read Free Page B

trying hard to sound confident.
    â€˜Right, class, take out your textbooks.’
    You don’t even know what subject this is meant to be, but the class is so shocked that they actually do what you ask. You grab a book from the nearest student and look at the cover. It’s called The World Around Us and it looks like Social Studies or Geography or something. ‘Turn to page one,’ you say to the class, opening the book in a rush, trying to get to page one before they do. It seems to be a chapter about Africa.
    You decide to bluff your way through.
    â€˜OK, now, so what do we know about Africa?’ you ask the students.
    â€˜They’re a good group,’ someone says.
    â€˜No, no, I don’t mean the group,’ you say, ‘I mean the country.’ You look around for the teacher, but she’s leaving. She’s got her own class to go to. ‘So what do we know about Africa?’ you ask again.
    â€˜They speak African,’ someone says.
    â€˜Yes, very good. What else?’
    There’s a dull silence.
    â€˜Are you really a teacher?’ someone asks.
    â€˜Hey, are you really a student?’ you say.
    â€˜You don’t look any older than us.’
    â€˜I was a child genius. They wheeled me to school in my pram. I was in high school before I was out of nappies. I was at university before I could tie my shoelaces.’
    â€˜If you’re a teacher,’ a kid yells out, ‘can we have the rest of the period off?’

he class sit there staring at you. The teacher’s staring at you, waiting to see your first move. That’s not surprising—you’re waiting to see your first move too.
    In a state of total fear you open your mouth.
    â€˜OK,’ you say, trying desperately to remember how new teachers start.
    â€˜Yes of course!’ you think. ‘My name, I’ll tell them my name.’ So you say: ‘OK, first of all, my name is. . .’
    And suddenly you can’t remember your name.
    â€˜I’ll just write it up on the board for you,’ you say, thinking fast.
    As you turn to the board the teacher leaves to go to her class. This is the first lucky break you’ve had all day. You stagger to the board and stand there trying to remember your name.
    While you’re standing there a voice behind you says, ‘You’re not really a teacher, are you?’
    You turn around. The whole class is watching you. You realise you can’t go through with this. It’s just too big a bluff.
    â€˜No, no I’m not,’ you confess miserably.
    The students start laughing and after a minute you join in.
    â€˜So why’d you pretend to be a teacher?’ someone asks.
    â€˜I was desperate,’ you say. ‘I was being chased by this kid and I ran into the first room I could find and it turned out to be the staff room. So I said I was a teacher.’
    â€˜Was he a big kid with a crewcut?’ someone else asks. ‘And did he have a skull tattooed on his face? And did he look like a bush pig?’
    â€˜Yeah, that’s the guy.’
    â€˜Ah, phooey, he’s no problem. Just breathe in his face. He’s scared of germs. He’ll run a mile if you breathe on him.’
    â€˜That’s true,’ someone else says. ‘He’s a real wimp.’ You can’t decide if they’re joking or not, but it looks like you’re going to have a chance to find out. For you can see the bush pig himself coming straight towards the classroom door.

n the bottom of the note you write, ‘Yes, yes, that’d be great!’ and you pass the note back to Sam. But as you do so you get that terrible feeling that you’re being watched. You look up anxiously. Sure enough the teacher, Ms Janzen, is staring straight at you.
    â€˜I won’t have people passing notes in my classes,’ she says. ‘Bring that piece of paper out here right now.’
    â€˜Oh no miss, please,’