Résultat!

Monday.

I am in my French Literature tutorial.
Madame O'Reilly is about to give us back our first marked assignment.
A critical analysis of a passage from a short story set in the Corsican scrub, called 'Mateo Falcone'.
It's the charming tale of a father who kills his ten-year-old son on a matter of honour.
Nice.
And typically Corsican, allegedly.
I must remember to scratch that little island off my list of potential holiday destinations.

However, before she returns our essays and puts us out of our misery, she runs through what we collectively got right and wrong in our attempts.
As she points out the elements of the passage we should have highlighted, I note that I picked up on most of them, if my memory of what I wrote is correct.
She makes regular eye-contact with me as she talks.
I take it as a good sign.
As she moves on to the various errors people have made in their critique, there is a discernible change in her eyes.
The earlier softness in their hazel hue is replaced by a hard and angry ebony.
And they move away from me to focus on the back of the room.
Where the skulkers sit.

As her diatribe is unleashed, I am happy in the knowledge that I am not guilty of any of the offences she is reeling off her inventory.  
But I try not to appear smug.
It's a challenge, I must admit.
Eventually, she passes out the assignments.
I quickly glance at her hand-scrawled comments on the assessment sheet.
It's all good.
And there at the bottom is the grade.
A+!
My smugness-containment gene must be faulty.
As I just can't stop myself from grinning.
I can feel the heat of my class-mates' glares burning into my back.
But I don't give a shit.
I'm not even familiar with the features of most of them due to my habitual front-of-class positioning.
I never deign to look round.

It crosses my mind that Madame O'Reilly may have marked me favourably due to my constant class-time contributions, without which, it must be said, there would be nothing more than a deathly abyss of silence.
But I quickly dismiss the thought.

I worked hard on this assignment.
I wrote a bloody good essay.
And I deserve that A+.

©Alacoque Doyle