Well, I thought Mrs. Plante was full-on cool. A teacher that got it. Who let you slide if an assignment was late or you didn’t follow directions.
Think again, Joy.
Instead, she is a you-can-do-so-much-better teacher. The ‘I see the potential in you’ cheerleader with so much enthusiasm you’d think she took a handful of uppers before school.
I mean, handing back my article on m*******a use among teens three times? What was she thinking? I was just a high school kid, not friggin’ Edward R. Murrow.
“I have seen the wonder that you can create. Your work has approached the sublime before, and I know that it can again. Rewrite the article until it shines like, like…” She glanced around, then pointed to the abalone necklace around my neck.
She would have to go there. The one place I was vulne
