Faetality |✓|

Chapter Six, Part One - Home Alone

I wasn't surprised to see the Sorcerer standing before the whiteboard in my last period English class. Mostly I was annoyed, but I was also afraid to imagine what might have happened to Mrs. McDermott–the real English teacher. Nevertheless, holding my head high, I took a desk in the middle of the first row, watching intently as he drew a name in neat, block print across the whiteboard: Westley O'Sullivan. Hmph. So he had a real name after all. 

The final bell rang and the last few students scuttled hastily through the door. Westley the Sorcerer set down his black marker, and turned to address the class for the first time. "According to the board, my name is Westley O'Sullivan, but it'll be Mr. O'Sullivan to you lot. Until the end of the school year, I'm Mrs. McDermott's replacement--yes?"

Clearly exasperated, Westley nodded to a girl in the center of the room–Shelly Coleman: an annoyingly ditzy (and slutty) girl with the IQ of a goldfish and all the personality of a rock. Her infinite arsenal of sparkly lip-gloss was probably the most interesting thing about her. "Are you... Australian?" I rolled my eyes amidst a chorus of snorts and laughter.

"Actually, I'm Irish, Miss..."

"Coleman."

"Well, Miss Coleman, you're lucky this is English class and not Geography, or I suspect you'd be in danger of failing."

Like the other students, I turned in my seat to watch Shelly's face go bright red with embarrassment. I faced forward and glared at Westley, who effortlessly maintained his cool composure.

"Now, according to old McDermott's er... lovely curriculum, you're finishing up some drivel about a bunch of sheep and pigs--"

"Are you actually referring to Animal Farm as drivel?" demanded Madelyn Garcia, class president and future valedictorian. Currently, she looked as if he her head might explode.

"Smartest lass in aaaall the land, aren't you?" More snickers enveloped the room as Madelyn visibly clenched her jaw.

Westley leaned against the edge of what was formerly Mrs. McDermott's desk, as he folded his arms over his chest. "Today and tomorrow we'll finish Animal Farm. Wednesday, we'll start And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie. Objections?"

I raised my hand and he raised his brows. "You're changing the curriculum?"

"I'm not standing here in me Sunday best for nothin' darlin'. Are you lot poxes for all yer teachers?"

"I don't know what that means, but we're supposed to be using all of this week to finish Animal Farm. We don't start Agatha Christie until next week."

Westley looked down for a brief moment and pursed his lips. "Well, we could do it that way if you'd like," he said, "but at McDermott's rate you'll all have a paper and a demonstration to prepare over Thanksgiving--" Groans and grumbles were issued from those students who hadn't taken the time read Mrs. McDermott's syllabus that far ahead. "But, we do the classwork at my rate, and the only thing you'll have to worry about over the holidays is showing up ossified in front of your parents. Or I'd be happy to let you lot drag yer feet through Animal Farm for another week..." Boos, heckles, and other objections filled the room. Acquiescing to defeat, I leaned back in my chair with an angry sigh, trying to ignore Westley's cheerful smile.

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