It is a true homecoming, the first day of school at St. Andrews. Once again we are sitting in this sweltering cafetorium (a cafeteria/auditorium hybrid) waiting to see what good ol’ St. Drew’s had in store for us this year. Of course everyone’s complaining about being back in school, what else would you expect form kids forced into just-a-bit-to-tight polyester uniforms on an 80 degree day. I, however, am nothing but excited. After a long summer with my siblings I am finally back with my friends. No, friends is too weak of a word. This is my second family. The people I have known since I sat in this very cafetorium, Lisa Frank backpack in hand, on the first day of Pre-K. Now we’re back for the last time because after years of patience we’re finally in EIGHT GRADE!

“Grace!” I yelled to my BFF as soon as I saw her

“Marrryyyyy” She squealed, running over. “OMG OMG OMG can you believe it? We’re like, the oldest people here”

“Um, what about the teachers?”

“Well duh, they don’t count! Anyway, now we can always play a base during kickball, and wear our iPods in lunch, and...”

“Be Prayer Buddies with the Pre-Schoolers” I finished

“Uh huh and I’m pretty sure we have a whole new line up of teachers this year”

“Oh yeah, fresh meat!” We laughed in unison.

St. Drew’s seems to have a revolving door when it came to middle school teachers. We all know this is little more than a stepping stone for teachers fresh out of school because for some reason they really didn’t get paid much. I think it has something to do with that bankruptcy thing people kept talking about. Whatever the cause my classmates and I have always taken full advantage our naive educators.

“I think those two are our newest victims” Grace pointed to the youngest of the new faces sitting at the teacher’s table “and it looks like Miss Jackson is back for more. I give her ‘till Christmas break”

“Word. Wow that new teacher’s really pretty, she could probably be a model or something.”

“I bet she’s stupid.” Grace snapped

“Oh you’re just mad because she’s replacing Mr. Sambora and you looooveee him”

“Oh shut up, and no I’m not. Father Bob probably just wanted to be able to look at her all day”

“So you’re disregarding your theory that he’s gay”

She thought for a minute “I bet he’s just trying to prove he’s not by hiring that chick then”


“Quite, quiet everyone” The cafetorium was silent Miss Stone our principal/science/religion teacher welcomed us back.

UUUUU


“Mary, earth to Mary” Grace’s voice brought the cafetorium back into focus “did you fall asleep?”

“No, I don’t think so” I yawned, then realized I had in fact been dreaming. “You know, that new teacher kinda looks like a vampire.”

“What?”

“I just had a dream that that pretty new teacher was actually a vampire, invading her mortal enemy. The Catholic Church.”

Grace laughed “Yeah, I guess I can see that. If vampires could come out during the day and be in the presence of crosses.”

“How do you know they can’t?

We both contemplated this while we walked to the long awaited eighth grade classroom.

UUUUU


“Oh God, look at who our new teacher is” I stopped dead in my tracks



“Everyone sit down and get ready to take notes” demanded vampire lady “My name is Miss Staker and I will be your math and homeroom teacher this year”


“Here we go again, she’s just gonna go over a bunch of rules she’ll never follow through on” I whispered to Grace

“Of course, it’s the same every year” she whispered back “I’m glad I brought a book.”

“Same here” We sat and immersed ourselves in the thrilling lives of Blair and Serena in the oh-so-hot Gossip Girl series.

“Excuse me, what is your name?” Miss Staker interrupted my reading.

I felt like all of the blood in my body had rushed into my face. “Umm... Mary”

“Ok and can you tell me, Mary, what is so important in that book that you can’t pay attention to me?”

I opened my mouth to answer and she snapped “Don’t you answer that, it was rhetorical. Now put that book away and take notes on the course expectations”

Surprising myself and everyone else in the room I did exactly as she said, but I did not take notes. Instead I wrote a little poem about this interesting new teacher.


Beauty is a Beast


Her skin, butter-cream by day, turns translucent by night.

Her hair, ebony black, shimmers like the night sky

But only to deceive those she encounters

Her lips, stained crimson from her victims

Eyes piercing blue, penetrating those who make contact with them

Her corpse, deemed immaculate by those she lures into her trap

She is the deceiver, the harlot of the hills

But cleverly disguised

The mark of the beast lies in her hands


Yepp, I’ll just leave this in this notebook for her to find if she ever follows through on that notebook check she’s threatening.

Poem credit Bridget W. (Teenink.com)