Friday, January 9, 2015
Mary and me always play this game when we get a sub. I mean, it doesn’t really hurt anyone, because subs are stupid anyway. It’s like giving a fake name at Starbucks, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Mess with people. It’s just a joke.
So, when we get this new sub in our fifth hour, we’re overjoyed. You can only keep the fake name going so long if you keep getting the same one. But a new sub, especially this young one, that’s fresh meat right there.
But before I can even open my mouth to tell her my name is Sarafina, she gives me a steely look and I swallow hard.
“Nice to meet you, Kelly,” she says, softlike, but all 36 kids in my class can hear her. “Shall we get started?”
Class goes okay, but Mary and me, we feel like failures. But, we get this bright idea and, when we turn in our worksheets on Egyptian mythology, we scribble the same answers and fill in the name slot, “You don’t even know my real name.”We feel clever until we realize two periods later that the papers go to our real teacher. And our real teacher is Mary’s mom.
This short story is a part of the illustrious Flash Fiction Friday. Read the other lovely stories, spun off the prompt: "You don't even know my real name." at the links below!