I was no better than my peers.I suddenly realized I was acting as if I had no conscience. Not one I could be proud of, anyway. Everything I was doing was cold and calculated. I wasn't sure I liked who I was becoming.I walked into the science building and Mr. Griggs wasn't there today, either. A substitute teacher was there and he informed us that Mr. Griggs had had emergency surgery yesterday morning for a perforated ulcer. The substitute was going to be with us for a while. I groaned. Charlie must have known about Mr. Griggs being in the hospital, but she hadn't push it. And worse, this bozo was going to make me act like a real student. I could only hope he would let me work in the lab in the afternoons.The class was boring and I was trying to work on the problem of getting into my lab, but my attention kept being drawn back to the droning coming from the front of the room. Something was bothering me about the substitute. And when something bothers me, I generally gnaw at it until I. ”“We had no need for these rules. We were taught proper behavior at home.”“As we’ve taught Cassie. But we are underestimating the response to the situation.” Cassandra returned to the table with a full plate. I don’t know where she puts so much food. She’s still thin as a rail. “Did you have a color in mind, dear? I know pale blue is very popular but I’ve also seen some of the girls in yellow. There are even a few prints that seem to be okay—especially gingham.”“Oh, I would feel just like Anne of Green Gables if I had a blue gingham dress,” my daughter said excitedly. I let the conversation go where it would and tried not to be critical. I feared, though, that this was only the beginning.“Oh, everything will settle down after the debate,” Martin said when we met for lunch the next week.“What debate?”“The debate teacher at the high school—Mrs. Hammer, I believe her name is—approached the Board with a novel idea for getting student buy-in and capitulation to the new policy. She’ll have.
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