At twenty after two, Darian clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. One by one students looked up from their rulers and handsaws to turn to the front of the room. “Clean up, guys.” Stacy swore the teacher barely looked around at the others before settling his gaze on him. “We’re not going over again today. How’s the woodwork coming?”
“We’ve barely even started,” Jennifer groaned. When Darian didn’t say anything more she started to saw again, pulling the thin blade of their handsaw back and forth through the plywood she was trying to cut. Her hair kept falling in her face, and every time she blew it out of her eyes, her breath fogged up her safety glasses. “Didn’t he say we were supposed to be done today?”
Stacy shrugged as he watched her struggle with the saw. “We’re cutting every
