“Excuse me sir.”
The teacher was ignoring the girl. She did not ask satisfying questions.
“Excuse me, I have a question. Why does school exist?”
Sniggers rippled through the class. She stood up at her desk, encouraged. Baiting the teacher was one of the few pieces of enjoyment they got in the day. “Sir?”
“That is irrelevant,” Mr Robinson replied stiffly, sensing the restrained laughter echoing off the glass. There was technically ten minutes left in the algebra lesson but he dismissed them early to avoid a ‘situation’. ‘Situations’ often sprung from such seemingly innocent questions.
Kenna spent the lunch hour writing her query hundreds of times on the walls around her desk, in permanent marker. Mr Robinson could never escape so easily as he thought.
Remember Kenna? She was so popular I thought I’d do another little story about her, based off an amusing Google search suggestion.