Everyone breathed easier.
At the first sign of spring, when every young man’s fancy should have been turning to thoughts of love, the young men enrolled in Brickeram’s Collegiate Academy were so bitterly embroiled in the business of year end exams they didn’t have time to dream about love- let alone ponder it.
All of them that is, accept Marky Mailor.
Marky had long ago given up any hopes his mother may have ever had that he would be accepted into a suitable college and thus spent the time all the other lads were knee-deep in numbers and charts staring out the window hoping against all hope to catch a glimpse of the object of his year long obsession, a Miss Eileen Simpson, better known about campus as the Independent Study Coach.
Marky had made no secret of his desire to pursue Miss Simpson as a love interest the moment he was dropped from the Colligiate’s roster, and thus this fine spring morning whilst the collective school body was breathing somewhat easier because they had received promising grades on their exams, Marky was nothing, if not exuberant in his own epic failure.
Proud as punch, and armed with his sorely failed exam, he headed immediately to the office of Independent Studies to inform the ever lovely Miss Simpson of his burgeoning intentions.
“Is Miss Simpson in?” he asked the clerk at the counter gaily.
“She is. To anyone but you.” The clerk answered shortly, and extended to him a small square of folded notebook paper.
Opening the paper cautiously he saw it was written in what he knew to be his beloved Miss Simpson’s own hand.
It had been my hope that seeing the engagement ring I have been wearing for upward of three weeks would have put an end to your exasperating pursuit, possibly even redirected your efforts toward at least trying to pass your exit exams.
Sadly, I found out just this morning this has not been the case.
I have petitioned the Dean of Studies to allow you to retake your exit exams citing special circumstances.
Best of luck to you in all future endeavors.
Miss E. Simpson
Not one to be easily dissuaded, Marky asked the clerk for the momentary use of her pen, scribbled a quick, “So, is that a no, then?” on the reverse of Miss Simpson’s note, and handed it back to the smirking clerk.
It wasn’t until the door slammed tightly behind him that the gravity of Miss Simpson’s dismissal hit him like a baseball bat to the thorax- and he found himself momentarily unable to catch the breath- that had seemingly come, so without effort, just moments before..
This piece is a combination of the first line provided this week by Dylan Hughes First Line Friday’s on MLMM and the three phrasal prompts offered on this week’s OLWG #144. The first line was: Everyone breathed easier at the first signs of spring. And the phrasal prompts were as follows:
- is that a no, then?
- staring out the window
- numbers and charts