The F Factor Read Online Free PDF

first writing assignment: “Tell me who your friends are, so that I will know who you are.”
    After the bell rang, Javier waited outside the classroom for Ignacio and Andy to finish their talk with Ms. Maloney so they could all walk to history class together.
    Ignacio wiped a hand over his sweaty forehead when he saw Javier. “I don’t think I’ve got a butt left. I’ve been chewed out today by so many people. Started with my dad in the car, Mr. Henley, Mr. Q., and now this freaky English teacher.”
    â€œThat woman’s something else,” Andy said, as they all picked up the pace and walked outside to Mr. Seneca’s building. “Didn’t anyone explain to the new teacher about the band guys? Last year, teachers usually gave us a break about tardy slips.”
    Javier squinted into the sunshine of the outdoors. “What did Mr. Q. say about it?”
    â€œHe said we needed to get our sorry selves to class on time or we’d be in detention after three tardies. He was no help at all. We got to talk to Mr. Henley,” Ignacio said, hustling up the steps beside them.
    Walking inside Mr. Seneca’s room, once again Javier was surprised by the silence, despite the fact that at least twenty guys sat at the desks. The teacher on metal crutches in the front of the classroom intimidated everybody. Javier wondered if word got around that the guys didn’t act up because of it, would all the teachers want a pair of crutches to maintain control?
    Ignacio led the way to three empty seats in the middle row. As the last one, Javier got the desk in the front with Andy and Ignacio sitting behind him.
    Mr. Seneca nodded at Javier with a hint of a smile on his face. It disappeared as quickly as it showed. The bell rang, and Mr. Seneca slowly moved a few steps until his position was directly in front of Javier.
    â€œJavier,” he said quietly, “wheel that teacher’s chair over here so I can sit down later.”
    Ignoring a kissing sound behind him, Javier stood up and walked over to the teacher’s desk. The black leather chair looked comfortable with padded arms and a cushioned seat. It rolled easily on thick rubber wheels. Javier pulled it back from the desk and then effortlessly wheeled it toward the teacher. “Here?” he asked, leaving the chair within arms’ reach for Mr. Seneca.
    â€œGood, thanks.”
    After Javier sat down, the teacher stepped closer to the first row and said, “I am Mr. Seneca, and this is World History class. When I was your age, I thought history was dull and boring, but I had a teacher in college that made me realize that I
am
history. You are history, gentlemen, and if we don’t pay attention to history, we are going to blow ourselves right off the planet.” He paused to glare at Pat Berlanga, who had squeezed himself behind the second table in the second row. His chin rested on his hand. It was Pat’s favorite position for napping. “Mr. Berlanga, do you think I sound melodramatic?”
    Pat lowered his hand and glanced around like he wasn’t certain where he was.
    â€œMr. Berlanga, do you know what ‘melodramatic’ means?”
    Pat shrugged. “Uh, not really … uh, Sir.”
    Mr. Seneca shook his head. His eyes turned up to the ceiling. “Give me patience down here.”
    Everyone chuckled a little. Javier felt relief when Mr. Seneca’s serious mask relaxed through the mouth. “Mr. Berlanga, you have me for two classes. Make a note to increase your vocabulary this year.”
    Pat nodded and shifted his bottom around like he had a rash.
    Javier glanced down at his desk. He wondered if either one of them could meet Mr. Seneca’s expectations. He hadn’t been afraid to get up for show-and-tell in elementary school. He wasn’t afraid to answer in class, and with group projects, he didn’t mind when the other guys asked him to step up and speak first. But