Friday, January 22, 2016

Battle of the Classes (Chapter 2)

The next week, starting Monday, every senior at Laguna Beach High School were prepared for the event that would wipe their daily schedules for four day, the Battle of the Classes. They were told to come to school in their given uniforms which were a maroon T-shirt and black shorts, which were to be worn with comfortable shoes. Most of the seniors came to school on Monday wearing their uniforms. In an organized fashion, the senior classes were sent outside onto the football field where the event would begin. Every student stood beside their teacher and waited patiently until every senior was out on that field. The kids who didn't wear their uniform were told to sit on the bleachers.
When all of the senior classes were on the football field, the principal stood in front of the large group with all the teachers on a side of him. The tall, old, slim man took the red whistle that hung from his neck and pushed half of it into his mouth. He blew on it, capturing every student's attention in a startled way.
"Hello, seniors," he greeted in a deep voice.
All of the seniors mumbled a "hi" or a "hello" to the principal, except for Madeline. She was always excited to see him.
The principal continued, "I am very excited to present this special event, the Battle of the Classes. You know what this is: just an activity for the seniors to undertake many challenges and earn some points that will shower only a third of you with some cool prizes. As young adults, I think you guys deserve some special treatment. Well, not all of you but some of you. Especially you, Madeline. So I'm gonna let Mister Foreman take over so I can get to the school and do principal stuff. Thank you."
A skinny man, growing hair everywhere except for his head, stood in place of the principal as he exited the football field. "Hello, everyone," he started. "I'm Mister Foreman, although he already said that. Um, I'm gonna split you all into groups of three so I will combine three to four teachers." Foreman took an index card from his gray buttoned shirt and started reading it. "Teachers, please group along with your students so they can find each other. Group One is Mister Hugo, Missus Staine, and Missus Rose. Group Two is Missus Perry, Mister Gutter, and Mister Stripe. Group Three is Mister Kendrick, Missus Grey, Missus Irwin and Mister Stockholm. Alright, assemble."
The students, along with their teachers, scrambled around to be near their group. The quintet had no trouble finding each other.
"Alright, so for your first activity," continued Mister Foreman, "you will participate in a scavenger hunt. You will receive these notes with a riddle on it, which shall take you to a location inside the school of another riddle. Once you find the last riddle and answer it properly, you will come back to this football field with the answer. The first group to arrive will receive five points. Before I send you off, your group must divide into five."
"Why do we have to divide if we're already divided?" asked Andrea loudly.
"So everyone will be able to search the entire school. You can still work together but every new group will get a different note. Six groups of fifteen or twenty is preferred. Until all groups receive a riddle, hold your horses."
"Okay, we obviously have to stick together," Skye said to her girls. "So who else is sticking with us? I don't care who."
"Hello, tramps," said Pamela after approaching the girls.
"You know what? I actually care who."
"Leave us alone, Pamela," demanded Andrea.
"Why?" asked Pamela. "I'm on your team, too."
"We know," said Madeline, "but you can go in somebody else's group."
"I am my own woman. I can make decisions for myself. And I decide to be with you."
"Are you sure you're a woman?" asked Skye. "Your chest and face says otherwise."
"I didn't even say one thing mean to you."
"You called us tramps," reminded Lizzie.
"That was a compliment. You all are very trampy. Especially you, Madeline."
"I feel the same way about you," said Madeline, not affected by Pamela's words.
"Whatever, I guess you can join us," said Skye.
Five other girls joined the six, including Skye's old friend, Lee, and Madeline's friend, Samantha. Soon, they were handed a half sheet of paper with a pen-written riddle on it to share.
Madeline read it aloud, "Leonardo DaVinci was a good man. So was Van Gogh. What those two men had in common is their ability to make a rainbow."
"Let's see," started Lizzie, "DaVinci used to live in Italy. So our next riddle... is all the way in Italy!"
"Lizzie, I think our next riddle is in an art room," said Debra.
"Oh! That makes so much sense!"
Pamela rolled her eyes.
Shortly, Mister Foreman raised what appeared to be a gun to the sky. "On your mark, get set, get outta here!" he hollered. He shot the flare gun into the sky, creating a loud boom which startled all of the seniors. They cleared out the field and made a frantic way into the school in front. "Try not to make a disruption!" he asserted to them.
"Okay, where is a good art class?" asked Skye.
"They're all up in the third floor," responded Madeline.
"We should use the elevator," recommended Andrea.
"No, we all can't fit on the elevator," Madeline said as the girls finally entered the school through the back. "You, Pamela, Samantha, Gilda, and Hilary will take the elevator. The rest of us will take the stairs."
"Oh, man. Why do I have to take the elevator with Pamela?"
"It's just a plan. Do it, please."
"Watch yourself," Andrea hissed at Pamela.
"Oh, I'm watching myself," said Pamela.
When a set of stairs was at sight, the group split up with Madeline's half going up and Andrea's half searching for an elevator. Madeline and the other girls ran up the stairs before they hit the third floor. They ran down the hallway until they caught their eyes on an open art class at the end of the hall. Madeline was the first to enter but stopped in front of the door so the other girls could not enter. A female, four-eyed teacher stopped her lesson when she saw the seniors.
"Excuse me," Madeline caught the teacher's attention. "I'm the school president. Are there any riddles here?"
"What?" the teacher uttered in a piercing squeaky voice.
"Madeline, the riddle said that DaVinci was a good man, right?" questioned Debra.
"Yeah..." Madeline replied.
"I remember I had an art teacher named Mrs. Goodman. The other riddle must be in her room."
"Then what are we doing here? Let's find Mrs. Goodman."
The group of girls ran from the classroom and took a right down the next hall. They found another open art class and made their way inside. The classroom was empty but a slim, old teacher was sitting at her desk.
"How may I help you?" the woman asked in a weak voice.
"No time," shouted Madeline, running towards the cabinets at the end of the classroom. The girls opened the cabinets along with drawers until Madeline yelped.
"I found the next riddle!" she shouted, eyeing the inside of a drawer full of stained paintbrushes. She took out the note and closed the drawer. All of the girls crowded her to see the note. She read, "Relaxation is important and everyone must use it. You might find it more helpful with the sound of lounge music."
"The teacher's lounge!" said one of the girls.
Immediately, they all ran out of the classroom and into the halls. They found more stairs and ran down. Luckily, they all knew where the teacher's lounge was. They ran down the stairs and entered the second floor. They ran into a different group of seniors; seniors that weren't in Group Three. They all got tangled up and fought each other like puppy dogs, managing to push each other away so they could continue running freely. They sprinted down the longest hall on the floor and entered the door that said, "Teacher's Lounge" above it on a plaque. They stopped and looked around the empty boring room until Madeline pointed at a dusty radio on the counter.
"Lounge music!" she said. "The riddle's behind the radio!"
They all ran over to the counter and Madeline reached behind the radio, pulling out another note. The girls squealed in excitement before Madeline read the riddle off of it. "It's so big, you can rarely get hot. Unless you indulge in spicy tater tots." She then muttered, "What?"
Skye snapped her fingers. "The cafeteria."
The girls screamed like a bunch of banshees as they zipped out of the teacher's lounge and down the hallway into a series of hallways leading to the classic cafeteria. They ran down the same aisle between empty tables and made their way into the little room where the food is kept for heating. They slowed down and looked around for a while. Suddenly, Lee caught her eye on a dish of frozen tater tots on the counter.
"Tater tots!" she gasped.
She stuck her hands in them, creating expressions on the girls' faces. She pulled out a greasy yet icy note from the dish which made the girls happy.
"Yay! Ew!" they all uttered at the same time.
"That's genius," Skye calmly said.
Madeline swiped the note from Lee's hand and began reading it. "Lucky you, you found the last riddle to use. You must be excited 'cause this is good news." Madeline checked the back to see if there was more. "That's it?" she said. "What does that mean?"
"News, so newspaper?" guessed Skye.
"The newspaper takes three months to process. Where are we going to find a newspaper?"
"Maybe this is a trick riddle," said another girl, with short, brown, curly hair. "Maybe we have to go to the bulletin board."
"Maybe you're right. There's news on there. Let's go."
The group of girls zipped out of the serving room into the cafeteria out in the halls. They all knew where the bulletin board was so they made their way there within the second floor. As they ran down a different hall, the girls passed by Andrea, who was leaning towards the elevator doors with her head resting on the line between the doors. Madeline and Skye stopped when they saw her as the other girls continued to run.
"Andy, is that you?" asked Skye.
"Yeah,"  Andrea responded.
"What are you doing standing around?" questioned Madeline authoritatively.
"Oh, my hair is stuck in the elevator."
"It's stuck?" repeated Skye.
"Yeah. Isn't it obvious?"
Madeline and Skye looked at each other and slowly began to snicker.
"It's not funny!" Andrea slapped the right side of the elevator doors.
"How did you get stuck?" asked Skye.
"When me and the other girls tried to get on the elevator, Pamela pushed me out when the doors were closing."
"Why don't you pull out?"
"The doors are closed tight."
"Then why don't you open the elevator?" asked Madeline.
Andrea waved her hand over the wall beside the elevator. "I can't find the button! I've been waiting for somebody crippled to get on this elevator so it would open. But no, nothing happened. I think I lost a hair extension when the girls were going up, man."
"Calm down. Keep still."
Madeline pressed the button on the wall. For a few seconds, the elevator opened, setting Andrea free but her hair messy. Soon, the girl with brown hair ran up to the three, along with the other girls, with a piece of red paper. On the sheet, it said in bold letters, "Good news!"
"I found this! This must be it!" said the girl.
"Good job," said Madeline. "Come on, everybody. Let's go!"
The girls ran through the halls, looking for another set of stairs to travel down. In a minute, they luckily found some. They ran down with Lizzie slipping and tumbling onto the floor. Debra quickly lifted her girlfriend up and carried her awkwardly down the rest of the stairs. She let her walk when they were finally on the first floor. The girls head for the door they entered the school in after they were at the football field. They bust through the doors and like lightning, marched onto the field only to see another group, which wasn't in Group Three, at the field with all the teachers. The girls slowed down and stopped when they were a feet away from the winning group.
"Ugh, did they win?" asked Madeline.
"Yes," answered Mister Foreman.
"Ugh!"
"Do we get points?" queried Lizzie.
"Yes," repeated Mister Foreman.
"Yay!"
"Suck a horse butt," cursed Andrea. "How did you get here first?"
A tall brunet put his arm around a shorter ginger boy. "We had Randall," bragged the brunet.
Randall, the ginger, shrugged the guy off. "Unhand me! I'm not your homie."
"Randall, chill out," ordered Andrea.
"Don't test me, woman."
Andrea mocked Randall's tone. She was never fond of him anyway.

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