The next day, every hour seemed to tick by... slowly, but surely. The classes seemed more monotonous than usual, especially the classes I thoroughly enjoyed. I walked through the halls, worry filling my mind every time I thought about the new substitute. Would she be friendly? I hoped that it was Mrs. Callie or Mr. Trendle, but I felt like even that was too much to ask for. By the time I sat down for lunch in our hallway, worry had consumed my mind.

"I wonder who the new substitute will be," contemplated Clary, taking the words out of my mouth. I set aside my worries. Whoever it was, worrying wouldn't change that.

"I just hope he or she is a decent teacher," I said. "I mean, Biology isn't a hard class, but having a bad teacher could make it hard."

Jessica nodded. "I agree. Maybe it will be Mrs. Callie..."

Lina shook her head. "I was talking to some seniors and they said Mrs. Callie was already teaching four classes. I highly doubt that she will have time to teach another."

"Then, Mr. Trendle?" Jessica hoped.

"Nope," Lina shot down. "He has a bunch of classes too."

We were completely puzzled on who to expect as we walked into History. The classes seemed to go by sluggishly, but we were soon walking to Biology. I pulled a friend of mine aside and raised my eyebrows in question. The only thing she said was: "She's awful."

My hope fell. The substitute was horrible and she would be teaching us for the next few months. How in the world would I manage to get an A in the class? I took a deep breath. Maybe she wouldn't be that bad. I always had a way of getting teachers to like me... and maybe I could do the same. I walked into the classroom and took a seat, bracing myself for the worst.

A woman with dry and frizzy brown hair tied back into a ponytail walked into the room. Her face was wrinkled and her eyebrows seemed to be frozen in a disapproving expression. She wore a loose green shirt and faded jeans that clung to her bloated sides. Her shoes were strapped leather sandals with tiny heels. The room was dead silent as her heels clacked against the tiled floor and she walked to the center, where Mr. Rickman had sat only a week before and clapped her hands.

"Hello everyone. I am Mrs. Bendich."

There was no reaction. The class sat silently staring into her cold brown eyes. She didn't seem completely awful...

"I will be your substitute for the next five months until the end of May," she stated. Confusion swept the classroom and Clary blurted out the question we had all been wondering.

"I though Mr. Rickman was coming back in April," she asked. Mrs. Bendich tilted her head sideways and gave Clary a disapproving look.

"What is your name young lady?" she demanded.

Clary gulped. "Clary. Clary Johnson."

Mrs. Bendich crossed her arms. "Well, Clary, I believe we raise our hands in this class to ask questions," she replied coldly.

Clary flinched. "I'm sorry Mrs. Bendich."

Mrs. Bendich nodded and turned back to the classroom. "Mr. Rickman's condition has been determined to be more severe than we realized. He will be returning at the end of May, shortly after your HSA exams," she explained. "Now please take out a sheet of paper. We will begin notes on the Body Systems."

I silently pulled out a sheet of paper from my teal binder. Next to me was Lina, since we changed seats second semester. "Can I borrow a sheet of paper?" she whispered.

Mrs. Bendich's head whipped towards us. "Did I ask you to talk?"

Lina didn't reply, and simply accepted the sheet of paper I handed her. Taking a deep breath, I began copying down the notes on the board. This was going to be far worse than I imagined.