The Secret Life of a Funny Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

we’re interested in this?
    â€œCome now, girls. Think! What letter did we do last time?”
    Dead silence.
    At the back of the class, there’s whispering and giggling. By the window, girls slump low in their desks, clearly bored out of their skulls. A tiny wad of white paper sails through the air, landing on the desk right beside Miss Godwin, who doesn’t even notice. Looks like another lesson is beginning to unravel.
    Meanwhile, Miss Godwin pulls a pile of crumpled papers from her case. I stare at those papers in her hand. Seriously, what’s the point of all this? I’m sick of the Composers’ Alphabet. I’m sick of Miss Godwin. I’m sick to death of everything.
    Up goes my hand.
    â€œMiss Godwin, wasn’t it Beethoven last time? The letter B?”
    â€œGood heavens, Maureen.” She clucks her tongue. “Beethoven was ages ago, back in January, I believe.”
    â€œAre you sure there, Miss? It’s so fresh in my mind, I was positive we’d done it last week. You know, I love Beethoven. He’s my absolute favourite! Do you think we can do him again?”
    The entire class is perked up now, watching me. My mood lifts.
    The wrinkles on Miss Godwin’s forehead knit together in a little stack. “Oh, I don’t know about that. That would throw off the schedule. We’re long past the letter B, you know.”
    â€œBut Miss! I really want to hear about Beethoven again. I do!”
    â€œDo you, really?” Miss Godwin moves closer, all sympathetic. This is so easy! “I understand that, because he’s one of my favourites too. Perhaps we can do him again when we finish the whole alphabet.”
    â€œNo!” I shout. And the whole class gasps. “That’s not fair. You’re just being mean!” I bury my face in my arms on my desk, leaving a little opening on one side for peeking out.
    All the girls stare in disbelief. I’m really pushing the boundaries now.
    â€œMaureen! Please don’t be rude!” The words are all there but it’s the tremor in her tone that gives her away. Miss Godwin looks anxious, nervously fingering the flowered brooch at her neck.
    Silence from me. No reaction.
    â€œWell, perhaps we could do a short review of Beethoven at the end of class, maybe five or ten minutes. How would that do?”
    I raise one eye up from my folded arms and fix it on Miss Godwin’s face. “Ten minutes is not long enough,” I say. “How about twenty?”
    Muffled giggles, but Miss Godwin doesn’t notice. Worriedly, her eyes dart toward the clock above the board. “Maureen, I don’t think so. That would mean today’s lesson might not . . .”
    â€œOkay, that’s it!” I’m acting really mad now. “You’ve hurt my feelings! I don’t care if you do Beethoven for the whole period, it’s too late.” And I slide down beneath my desktop, hiding there like a wounded animal.
    One small part of my brain is aware of the pitiful woman hovering over me. How nothing in her life has prepared her to deal with this. How I’m taking advantage. Then I hear the roars of laughter erupting from the class. It buoys me up, blanking out any thought of remorse.
    Miss Godwin is angry now, but incredibly, not at me. “Class! Can’t you see that Maureen is upset? Please don’t laugh at her, it’s rude.”
    Unbelievable—she’s taking my side! You couldn’t tell a joke as funny as this.
    She leans over, peering beneath my desk. “Maureen, I’m sorry but you must come out. You’re disturbing the class.”
    â€œNo!”
    I glance sideways at Miss Godwin, notice the hurt in her pale watery eyes, and it pricks at me. But I don’t stop myself, can’t stop myself, actually.
    â€œMaureen, if you don’t come out immediately, I’ll have to send for Sister.”
    â€œGo ahead. Sister is nicer than you,