I glanced at my watch: 8:40. I was 25 minutes late to class.
I took a deep breath and turned the metal knob.
I entered, and the entire class stopped and looked up at me. Including the teacher.
Silence.
“Ms….” the teacher, forgetting my name, walked to her desk and picked up a piece of paper, scanning it, “….Paine. The new girl. You are 25 minutes late.”
A stern, older woman, the teacher glared down at me.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
I hesitated.
“Sorry?”
“That’s not good enough. It may be acceptable to be late to class wherever you are from, but it’s certainly not acceptable here.”
“Unacceptable,” I said, and immediately regretted it.
An awkward silence covered the room.
“Excuse me?” the teacher asked, slowly.
“You said ‘not acceptable.’ You meant ‘unacceptable.’”
