"This is Economics class." Ashley quipped, "By the looks of you, I can tell that you're disappointed it's not Home Economics class."
Ashley tottered uneasily on her crutches as she continued to pace around the front of her new classroom, an old room hardly refurnished from what it must have been fifty years ago. Her two new matte gray legs shook slightly with her inexperience, losing footing every now and then with Ms. Knight's shivering but quickly regaining composure. Every now and then Ashley would palm the black board beside her and use it as a more steady structure than her crutches which were, as she discovered, very frail.
She laughed inwardly at her own joke, but kept her stern demeanor as she stared down the plush crowd of students before her. "Now, I am only a temporary substitute for Ms. Farron while my leg is broken,. And while I will be following her lesson plan, I'm going to run this class just like I did before." she performed a slow awkward pivot through several small jumps, "As long as you do what I say, when I say it, we won't have a problem."
Most of the girls stuffed into their desks had never really had Coach Knight before, either having attented the Academy longer than she had been employed or simply opting out of her Physical Education course. However some visibily shrank into their seats, their previous experiences with their former coach having left a bad taste in their mouths. A few of them exchanged grimaces whereas others remained stoic, not wishing to upset their highly volatile new teacher.
"Are there any questions before we begin?" Ashley asked, taking a deep breath of exhaustion. Running was one thing, and it was completely separate from hauling yourself up stairs while crippled. Her course was on the second floor of the Math wing at the end of the hallway, and her new room was on the fifth floor of the center building. Unfortunately for her, the elevator stopped running at the fourth floor. After a long "walk" like that, all of Ashley's cardio-bolstered endurance was spent.
A plump sausage of an arm raised slowly into the air, dimpled at the elbow with barely a wrist detectable. It was attached to an equally plump sausage of a blonde, threatening to pop the button on her blouse.
"Yes, you?"
"Um, do we call you Ms. Knight or Coach Knight?"
Ashley took a deep sigh and turned to face the girl, doing another awkward crutch circle in order to do so. "I'd prefer it if you simply called me Coach. I listen when my girls call me Coach."
"But you're not the coach anymore... Coach Farron is--"
"Miss Farron is a--" she restrained herself from expressing her true opinions of her former assitant to an entire crowd of young girls with mouths no doubt as big as their appetites. She had to be careful. "--...temporary... coach, like I said." she struggled, feeling the veins surge in her forehead, "Just call me Coach, there's a good chance you'll have me again as you gym instructor."
Some of the girls giggled at their new teacher's restrained outburst as another thick arm was raised, smaller than the first one and significantly darker. Ashley turned to face a plump black girl, "You had a question?"
"So, we're going by Coa-" she quickly corrected herself in hopes of avoiding another outburst, "Ms. Farron's lessons right? Like, all of our notes are still good?"
Stupid question, didn't these girls know how to listen?
"I already answered that, anything else? I get the feeling you're all just trying to avoid classwork."
One more hand raised, "If we get in trouble, will we have to run laps?"
The class erupted in laughter as their new teacher quickly turned a bright shade of red. She had taught girls like that before. The one thing, in Ashley's opinion, that could help that girl more than a twenty-mile jog off of a six foot pier is a good uppercut to the chins. Had her life been an animated feature, smoke would have no doubt been coming from between Ashely's ears like a tea kettle.
"Listen." she said sternly, "I don't want to be here any more than any of you girls want me to be. I would much rather be outside running just like all of you would like Ms. Farron in here to coddle you and laugh at your stupid jokes. The sooner my leg gets better, the sooner I'm back out there on the field. But until then, just know that I can make the next hour and fourty-five minutes either moderately pleasant as we all go over Economics, or living Hell as the trouble makers run laps up and down the hallway. Or maybe pushups. No, Suicides if you're really bad. So I suggest you all sit down, shut up, and open your goddamn textbooks."
Not a sound other than the simultanious rumbling that came with several overfed girls bending over to get their textbooks from their schoolbags. As Ashley fumed at the front of the class, she slapped her hand away from massaging her stomach- stupid technique from a stupid hippie from a stupid school full of stupid fat asses, in her opinion. She managed to lumber over to the desk and plop herself down, noticing that Ms. Farron's wide rump had done a swell job of breaking it in for her.
"You." she pointed to the fat girl who caused the commotion
"Y-Yeah?"
"Out in the hallway. Five laps. Think I won't check the security cameras?"
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all...
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