short story

COMING LATE

I had a funny experience when I was in senior high school. It was a rainy morning I came to the class when the lesson was starting, and I was late. It was a math lesson, and my teacher was angry , when she knew that I was late. At that time I felt nervous I didn’t know what to do. The only thing that I could imagine was, I got angry from her, and of course she will give me a hard punishment, but that’s ok, because I`d rather do the punishment than she asked me to go to the front of the class to do the homework, man so scary!!!. I though it was a jo it first, because so far my relationship with my math teacher is good, I always do the task from her, but today I fell so different she look so angry, As the dull scent of chalk dust mixes imperceptably with the drone of the teacher's monotone, I doodle in my tablet to stay awake. I notice vaguely that, despite my best efforts in the shower this morning after practice, I still smell like chlorine. I sigh and wonder why the school's administration requires the students to take a class that, if it were on the Internet.  as yet another addition to his list of worthless sites. Still, there was hope that I would learn something that would make today's first class more than just forty-five wasted minutes... It wouldn't be the first time I learned something new from the least likely place.
I have three reasons to continue hoping. They are: my freshman  math class, the manner in which I came to take calculus in junior year and my experiences with high school swimming. These incidents have, despite the odds against it, added to my confidence in my academic ability and have shown me that there is something to be learned from this sour experienced, the lesson is, it is the warn or could be the punishment because I had underestimated a small thing that coul cause a huge fire,