Capítulo 11: Chapter 11 Countdown to high school!
On a new day, Mark rushed to the classroom at the last minute, still feeling the effects of a hangover.
The first class was history, focused on reviewing U.S. history and analyzing current world events. "I believe everyone knows that Europe is at war, and Germany has invaded Austria. Their rise was so rapid that the surrounding countries didn't even have time to react."
The old teacher on the podium began to explain his theories again. The international situation had shifted abruptly, and many newspapers reported on the European battlefield to increase sales. War always grabs attention as the hottest news topic!
"Hey Mark, how'd you sleep last night? Call me next time you're drinking!" Ollie, a Black classmate who seemed to enjoy drinking, was in high spirits.
Mark frowned. "It's alright, just some back pain. Didn't sleep well last night. You drunkard!"
"No way, man! A little wine does that? You gotta exercise more or no girl will want to hang with you!" Ollie winked slyly, giving a look every guy understands.
"Get outta here, I'm fine! Anyway, the semester's almost over. What's your plan?" Mark asked, his mind drifting back to how this time felt like a crossroads. Good grades meant a better school; bad grades meant either technical school or finding a job. Two extremes.
"Hey, I'm trying to get into a military academy. If that doesn't work, it'll be part-time jobs or soldier life. I'm not as smart as you. What about you? Ready?" Ollie laughed, seeming to have made up his mind.
"I'm not sure yet. We'll see, but I'm aiming for a doctorate. Don't be discouraged, you got this. Let's grab lunch at noon!" Mark gave his friend a pat on the shoulder. He had more on his mind though—like finding a girlfriend.
The second class was chemistry, and most of the boys perked up. After all, it was taught by the most beautiful teacher in the school.
The sound of high heels echoed down the hallway as the classroom door opened, revealing Ms. Dana in a long blue dress that radiated intellectual beauty. Despite the simplicity of her outfit, it couldn't hide her stunning figure. Her every move exuded charm, with gold-framed glasses on her delicate nose, giving her the aura of an alluring secretary.
The class audibly sighed with admiration.
"Students, there are only two weeks until finals. This is the time that will determine your future, so make the most of it. I want to see each of you excel and become leaders, no matter the industry," Ms. Dana's gentle voice was like a soothing breeze, full of encouragement.
"Ms. Dana, will you join us at the graduation party after the exam?" Rocca, a chubby student, shouted out, surprising the class with his boldness. Maybe the impending graduation gave him newfound confidence.
"No matter how well you do on the exam, I'll be there," she replied calmly.
"Then, what are your criteria for choosing a partner? We're about to graduate; let us know!" Rocca's question set off a chain reaction, with boys across the room chiming in.
Ms. Dana adjusted her glasses and smiled calmly, exuding maturity. "It's natural for you to have these thoughts at your age, but I want you all to focus on becoming successful. How about this: if all of you get PhDs and I'm still unmarried, I'll marry the student who earns a doctorate. Sound good?"
The class erupted in cheers and laughter. It wasn't every day that you heard the dream girl of your high school give out her "marriage criteria." Even Mark, normally reserved, couldn't help but yell out in excitement.
Ms. Dana smiled at their reaction, knowing full well how unlikely it was. To earn a PhD, most of them would have to be at least 35 years old, requiring years of study and a research-level dissertation. By that time, Ms. Dana would likely be married.
But, what Ms. Dana didn't account for was the class's prodigy—Mark. He was far ahead of his peers and with a little more time and the right opportunity, earning a doctorate wasn't far-fetched for him.
"So, let's all work hard. Now, turn to page thirty-eight. Let's go over the periodic table formula combinations," Ms. Dana said, pleased with the energy in the room.
Time flew by as the students, mesmerized by their teacher's beauty, barely noticed the lesson's end.
Linglingling—the bell rang, signaling the end of class. As the students began to leave, a middle-aged, balding man with a beer belly entered the room, knocking on the door. "Is Mark here?"
Ms. Dana hadn't left yet, and the class turned their attention to the man, shouting in unison, "Hello, Principal Matt!"
"Hello, everyone. Is Mark here?" Principal Matt asked again, holding a letter in his hand.
"Here, sir. What's this about?" Mark asked, confused. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he?
"Haha! As expected from one of our finest students!" Principal Matt patted Mark on the shoulder, as if he had played a part in Mark's success, though he hadn't taught a single class.
The class quietly despised the principal's behavior, but no one dared to say it out loud.
"This is your admission letter. You've been accepted to MIT. You'll be heading straight to university after graduation. Congratulations! Don't forget to tell people you were taught by the great Principal Matt!"
"Wow!" "No way!" "MIT!" The class buzzed in disbelief.
Rocca, who had been the center of attention earlier, seemed furious. If this were true, Mark might get a doctorate soon. Would that mean Ms. Dana might marry him? Jealousy flared in Rocca's eyes.
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