Cheater
by mermaid2bseeker

Mr. Spencer,

I am writing to inform you of your son’s performance on Tuesday’s test. Shawn will be receiving an F for cheating.

Normally, I would praise a student for answering every question correctly, however, seeing as how Shawn does not listen during class, choosing instead to doodle, I must conclude Shawn has cheated.

Shawn is a bright child, but he needs to learn that he cannot cheat his way through life.

Sincerely, Mrs. Brady

Henry read the included test. Shawn scrawling handwriting filled each blank with the correct answer. A bright red ‘F’ dominated the top of the page.

He looked up to where Shawn stood waiting. They had been through this routine every time Shawn had a new teacher. Almost every first test would come back with an ‘F’ and teacher’s note.

Shawn sighed, he knew what to expect.

Two days later, Henry, Shawn and Mrs. Brady met in a parent-teacher conference. Shawn watched his dad and teacher at the front of the class talking in subdued tones. He didn’t need to read their lips—though he could—to know what they were saying.

Mrs. Brady was explaining how Shawn was a problem student, disrespectful during lessons, how he didn’t want to learn. Henry was describing Shawn’s “abilities” and training. Shawn was “special,” he didn’t need to take notes to learn. She listened with the attitude of someone who has heard it before but is paid to be polite.

As usual, Henry requested that she provide Shawn with a make-up test. As usual, the teacher relented, believing that, if nothing else, the outcome would shift Henry’s glare away from her once it proved her right.

Shawn had his paper and pencil out before she even turned to him. However, she surprised him by asking for the answer verbally. Shawn sighed, another reason to hate his “training.” If he were normal, he would need to take notes, and could pass tests without arousing suspicion.

Mrs. Brady asked him one question, and it was the hardest one she could have asked, her purpose being to stump him, humiliating him in front of his father. That way they would never again bother her about a grade.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and centered himself. A glance at the memory of his assignment schedule reminded him she spoke on the topic two weeks ago. It was a Wednesday and she had worn a pink dress. He re-read the words as she wrote them on the board in his mind. They weren’t what he needed. Wait, her voice, she was speaking to the class. If was extra information, something she didn’t expect anyone to write but felt compelled to say anyway. That was the answer.

He opened his eyes and recited the information to Mrs. Brady, word for word. She was, understandably, shocked, and turned to his father, who might have looked just a little bit smug.

Before Shawn climbed into the truck, he thought he saw a glint of pride in Henry’s eyes, though it was probably just his imagination.

A/N: You like? You hate? Please review.