The School Lesson, or Miss Jenny
Jake Carter was leaving the canteen when he heard a rustling sound beneath the stairs. Peeking under, he spotted Stevie and Piers crouched there.
“What are you two doing?”
“Nothing. Move along,” Stevie muttered, waving him off.
Just then, the bell rang. Stevie and Piers bolted from their hiding spot, stuffing something into their pockets, and all three boys dashed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. They were the last to slip into the classroom.
Miss Jenny was writing test options on the whiteboard. The students hurried to their seats, rustling as they shoved textbooks into their desks—ready to cheat.
Miss Jenny spun around sharply, and the room fell silent.
“If I catch anyone copying, it’s an instant fail,” she said sharply, blushing. Then she turned back to the board, and the rustling resumed.
She’d only been at the school for two years, fresh out of teacher training college. Miss Jennifer Williams hid her youth behind fake strictness and oversized glasses with plain lenses in thick black frames. Her voice always rose when she scolded, and her cheeks always flushed. Jake had a soft spot for her.
It was his nickname—Miss Jenny—that stuck. This year, she became the Year 8 form tutor. The boys, and even some of the girls, often acted up, disrupting lessons. Miss Jenny would flounder, awkwardly trying to restore order. Once, Jake thought she might cry. He couldn’t stand it and snapped at his classmates:
“Cut it out! Are you thick? She’s trying to help. If you don’t want to learn, fine, but don’t ruin it for the rest of us.”
The class went silent, stunned. Only Piers snickered, saying Jake fancied her. The others shushed him. After that, the class quietened down.
Miss Jenny finished writing the test questions and set down the marker—just as a few paper pellets shot from a pen tube hit her back. Some even got stuck in her hair.
She shuddered, brushing them off like they were spiders. Someone giggled. Jake glanced back at Stevie and Piers. They looked innocent, but their sly grins gave them away. *So that’s what they were up to—sabotaging the test.*
“Open your books,” Miss Jenny said, her voice tight.
The rustling started again.
“Left side of the row—Option A. The rest—Option B.” She sat at her desk.
Everyone bent over their work, but Jake turned to Stevie and Piers and shook his fist. Another volley of pellets flew—this time hitting the girls in the front row.
“Miss Williams, Stevie and Piers are throwing things!” Maisie Bennett complained.
“Us? No way!” Stevie jumped up indignantly—just as Jake hurled a tightly crumpled paper ball at him.
“Ow!” Stevie clutched his cheek. “See? He’s the one—”
“Jake!” Miss Jenny stood, voice sharp. “I never expected this from you. Bring me your diary. You’re getting a fail for this test!” Flushed, she sat back down and opened the register.
Jake trudged to her desk. She scribbled a note in his diary before handing it back. “Your parents need to come in tomorrow.”
“How was school?” his dad asked that evening.
“Fine. Miss Jenny wants to see you.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.” Jake scowled.
“Nothing? They don’t call parents in for nothing. Talk.”
“We had a maths test. Stevie and Piers started shooting paper pellets at Miss Jenny—Miss Williams,” he corrected. “I felt bad, so I got Stevie back. She saw me, failed me, and kicked me out.”
“Are you saying you got punished unfairly?”
Jake shrugged.
“Maybe I should’ve sent you to Grandma’s,” his dad sighed.
“Dad, I swear I didn’t start it. Don’t send me away,” Jake pleaded.
“We’ll see.” His dad turned back to the telly, and Jake knew arguing was pointless.
But the holidays were still two weeks away. He hoped something would change by then.
The next day, Jake’s dad came during his lunch break. Miss Jenny had a free period and was marking the disastrous maths tests in the staff room.
“Hello. I’m Kevin Carter,” he said, stepping in without knocking.
Miss Jenny adjusted her slipping glasses. Kevin Carter—tall, broad-shouldered, and effortlessly handsome—had a way of making hearts flutter without trying.
“Jennifer Williams, your son’s form tutor,” she introduced herself, standing. For some reason, she took her glasses off, then immediately put them back on.
“I need to tell you—” She straightened, chin up, trying to match his height.
“No, *I* need to tell *you*,” Kevin cut in. “My son didn’t do anything wrong, yet you failed him and sent him out. And now I’m here.”
She bristled, thinking he was mocking her.
“Oh really?” she snapped.
“Yeah. Two lads tried to sabotage your test, hoping you’d kick them out. They shot at you, didn’t they? Jake stood up for you and got them back. So you punished *him* and let the real culprits off.”
“The test *was* their punishment. They’re hopeless at maths. Should I have let them skip it? And Jake—” her tone softened slightly—”is brilliant at maths. This was easy for him. I didn’t fail him, by the way,” she added, almost apologetic. “Those two *did* fail.” She nodded at the stack of books.
“Ah, a teaching strategy. Then why call me in if you know he’s innocent?”
*Why, indeed?* Her flustered look said it all. She bit her lip.
“Well… Jake *did* shoot back,” she said weakly, pushing up her glasses. “Same method, even if his heart was in the right place.”
Kevin studied her. *Young, pretty, fresh out of uni. Hiding behind those ridiculous glasses. No kids of her own, yet here she is, trying to discipline ours.*
Under his gaze, she blushed like a schoolgirl.
*I’d have stood up for her too,* he thought abruptly.
An awkward silence fell. Unexpectedly, Kevin softened.
“Jake lost his mum six months ago. Cancer. Fast. I nearly sent him to his gran’s but changed my mind. I’m at work all day—he’s on his own. It’s… hard. For both of us.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I told him not to tell anyone. So, are we done? My break’s nearly over.” But he didn’t move.
They stared until Miss Jenny snapped out of it. She removed her glasses again—then put them back on, as if they were armour.
“Yes. You can go.”
“Goodbye.” Kevin smiled, and her heart raced.
After school, she took Jake to her flat.
“Why?” he asked, baffled.
“No free classrooms. You’ll do the test here. Unless you *want* that fail?”
“No.”
Jake walked beside her, confused. She seemed… different. Softer. It irritated him.
“I could’ve just given you an A. It’s easy for you. But it’d be obvious. So you’ll take it properly. You *were* in class that day.”
“Dad told you? About Mum? Is this pity?”
“Your dad loves you. You’re all he has.” She didn’t speak again until they reached her place.
“Mum, we’re home!” she called, stepping inside. “Shoes off,” she told Jake.
“We?” Her mum—slim, kind-faced—appeared.
“This is Jake Carter, my top maths student. Mum, we’re starving.”
Jake wanted to refuse lunch, but a bowl of tomato soup waited, its aroma irresistible. He tried to eat slowly, but it was gone too fast. Her mum gave him seconds.
Then Miss Jenny sat him at her table with a new test.
“But this isn’t what we did in class.”
“Too easy for you. Do this one.” She left.
He *could* have cheated—but didn’t. The problems were tough, engrossing.
She marked it on the spot, praised him, and gave him an A.
“Here—this book shows different ways to solve problems.”
As he took it, a photo fell out—a man in a naval officer’s uniform, squinting in the sun.
“My dad. He was a captain.”
“*Was*?”
“He died.”
Jake felt a sudden kinship. Then it hit him—*she wasn’t wearing her glasses.* Without them, she looked… nice.
His phone buzzed.
“Dad?” He stepped aside. Miss Jenny tactfully looked away. “Yeah, I’m at Miss Jenny’s… Okay.”
“Sorry for keeping you,” she said as he texted back.
“Dad’s picking me up. I sentThree years later, Jake’s little sister giggled as Miss Jenny—now Mum—balanced her on her hip while helping Jake with his A-level prep, and Kevin watched from the doorway, wondering how one maths lesson had brought them all here.
