Forest City 2 Chapter 7 -Dear George-

    I decided to panic call Monty when I got home. Since Hazel was out of town I had to ride the bus home and that meant Monty would get home a little later than I did, which meant I had enough time to take a shower and get a snack, Hazel would have to restock the pantry when she got home.

    "Come on Monty, pick up, pick up!" I yelled into my phone, I slumped down onto the sofa I kept in mind to not let my wet hair touch the pillows and to not get any cheese dust on the cushions.

    "Hello there Mac," Monty spoke through the phone, "What's up?"

    "Can you come over to my house, I'm super stressed right now!" I panicked.

    "As long as I can bring a book to read-"

    "I need you to help me write some papers!"

    "Which class?"

    "You know which one!"

    "Okay, okay, I'll be over in like three minutes, I can take my bike," Monty hung up the phone and before I knew it he was here.

    Monty sat on the couch and plucked a few feathers off of his sweater and the couch, he straightened his glasses and tried to begin, "So-"

    "Mr. Lupin threw parts 1, 4, 5, and 7 in the trash can and I saw them in there, and I know he's doing this because he hates me, and I have F's on all of my papers and I'm super stressed and paranoid," I said rapidly.

    "Man, you talk faster than my dad when he has had two cups of coffee," Monty replied, "Do you need help with making the writing better, is it the rubric?"

    "I followed the rubric and he said I did it to the t," I continued.

    "Well, let me read them," Monty replied, "Maybe it is the story itself?" Monty read the first few paragraphs of my story and looked up and spoke, "He had no reason to give you an F, these are fine, take it up to the school."

    "But, what if the school doesn't listen," I worried.

    "That's clear favouritism and discrimination, Mac, besides, he did the same with Cobalt, he won't get away with it this year," Monty promised.

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    Mr. Lupin began to clean up his desk from the day, unwinding from another rough day at work. He glanced at Macademia's papers sitting under a granola bar wrapper and a plastic water bottle. He returned to typing on his computer. He then brushed the wrapper and plastic water bottle off of the paper. He took the paper and began making his way to the library, where the paper shredder was. On his open laptop an email sat in draft to a Mr. George Summerwood. The email read...

    Dear George,

    Macadamia is falling behind in her English class, I suggest you talk some sense into that girl or she'll end up like my son. I will inform your sister about Macadamia's falling behind. She has continuously accused me of intentionally failing her and throwing her work away. Fix this issue or I will.

    Sincerely,

    Your old friend, Conall Lupin