A petite, redheaded woman skittered toward Cassandra, Ronald, and the other teens. “Miss Ray? Do I need to report you to your father?”
All the boys straightened and Ronald stepped away from the picnic table. Everyone went silent and their smiles faded.
Something about her stance made Cassandra feel small.
Leanne yanked her plaid skirt and smoothed it out. “No ma’am.” She stepped from the table top to the bench. From there, she hopped to the sandy ground.
The woman tugged at her fiftyish- handmade-looking-dress, lifting her chin and a well arched brow at the girl. “See to it that you act appropriately.” Her eyes glanced at Leanne’s blouse, and she splayed her right hand across hers. “Make sure you button up that blouse. If I see it like that again one more time this week, I will be forced to right you a warning.”
“Of course, Mrs. Dort.” Leanne’s voice oozed Southern sugar.
“The same goes for the rest of you.” The woman cast a gaze at Cassandra and Ronald. “You two must be new.”
Cassandra nodded. This teacher has forgotten who I am already? Her and her mother spoke to the home economics teacher two weeks ago. She had been the only fat girl who showed up at the orientation. It wasn’t like this was a large school. Last year, the high school yearbook showed that ten people graduated. It couldn't be that hard to remember anyone? She did recall the woman writing down her name on a tablet as well.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ronald used his respectful voice.
Mrs. Dort turned her attention to Cassandra. “Didn’t I meet you and your mother last week?”
“Yes.” She felt a little relieved that the teacher hadn't forgotten her afterall.
The woman tapped her chin. “Miss Berg? Right?”
“Yes. But you can call me Sassie.”
A quick smile flashed across the lady’s face and disappeared in an instant. “Not in my class.” Then she turned toward Ronald. “And what is your name, young man?”
“Ronald Fisher, ma’am.”
The teacher skimmed him from head to toe. “Make sure you mind your peas and q’s, Mr. Fisher.” She used a much sterner voice than with the rest of them.
Ronald curled up the left side of his mouth. “Yes, ma’am.” He stayed respectful.
“I will see all of you inside.” Mrs. Dort fiddled with her top button right at the pit of her throat. It appeared that her well-starched collar might choke her.
The teens nodded, and Mrs. Dort marched toward the double red doors.
“See you in a little bit, Mrs. Douche-bag,” Leanne stage-whispered through a giggle.
Shelly Arkon © 2015