Language Arts Class
The Language Arts classroom was cold and barren. The walls lacked colour and Mr. Bouchey turned the air conditioner on so high, a chill ran down your spine as you entered the room.
In the middle of the room were four sets of tables. This only meant one thing: group work. You rolled your eyes. You didn't like being in a group because somebody would do most of the work while everyone else pretended to be working.
"Sit down!" Mr. Bouchey yelled at you and you quickly found a seat. He marched up to your table and pointed a finger at your face. "Who are you?"
In the middle of the room were four sets of tables. This only meant one thing: group work. You rolled your eyes. You didn't like being in a group because somebody would do most of the work while everyone else pretended to be working.
"Sit down!" Mr. Bouchey yelled at you and you quickly found a seat. He marched up to your table and pointed a finger at your face. "Who are you?"