Where is My Pencil?

Where is My Pencil?

The bell rang, it was rush hour! Trevor ran to his locker, knowing he had an essay to write the next two periods. After bumping into a few already irritated kids and receiving ugly stares from some teachers, he made it to his locker. “22-27-19”, he recited to himself. He pulled the slip of paper from his pocket, and looked at the requirements for the essay:

All words must be written in pencil only

In a flash he was rummaging through his locker for the pencil.

“Damn, where is it?” he muttered. Blue ink pens, black ink pens, red ink, pink ink, even purple, but no pencils. He unzipped his backpack and dove into its contents desperately looked for a pencil. He got to the bottom of the bag, only to find nothing.

“Looking for something?” a girl’s voice sounded from behind. Shocked, Trevor jerked his head up, accidentally bumping it against the locker door.

“Ow!” he rubbed it hard.

“Sorry,”

“Never mind. Do you have a pencil, any kind, mechanical, wooden? Just, whatever?”

“It’s your lucky day. I have one.”

“Thanks.” He extended his hand.

“I can’t give it to you right now though.”

“Test?”

“No, I just can’t.”

“Forget it.” Trevor slammed the locker door and went off to look for it.

“What do you need it for?”

“Essay.”

“Can I help you look for it?”

“It’s all good, thanks.” Trevor shrugged, frustratedly. He didn’t have time for this annoying girl.

“You sure? Sometimes the things you are looking for are right in plain sight.”

“No, I’m good.”

“Please?”

“Okay, an extra pair of eyes can’t hurt.”

“Where were you last?” she asked.

“Algebra.”

“What does it look like? The pencil.”

“Oh, tan, kind of like your shirt.” 

The pair headed up to the algebra room.

“Hello Mrs. Jameson, did you see a pencil here, by any chance, at my desk?” Trevor asked.

“Sorry Trevor, everything that’s left here goes in the lost and found over on that side.” She pointed to the opposite side of the room.

Trevor ran along with the girl to the small bin, and rummaged through it.

“Ugh!! Where is it?”

“Do you have a pencil Mrs. Jameson?”

She looked through her desk drawer, and much to Trevor’s disdain, came up with nothing.

“Let’s check the English room.”

As they walked Trevor struck up a conversation,

“Have you ever had this happen to you? You know, where you lose something when you really need it.” Trevor asks.

“Not really.”

“Whoa, so you’ve never lost anything before?”

“No.”

“How? Do you leave everything you need in every classroom.”

“Not really, I kind of take the classroom with me.”

“The hell? What do you mean?”

“I mean, I just take what is important in every classroom around with me, and that boils down to only one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“Myself.”

“I am crucial to every classroom. If I am not there, someone may be at a disadvantage. Someone may need my help. What would they do if I was not there? They’d be at sea, trying to look for me.”

“Why do you think you’re so crucial? Not trying to sound rude, but don’t you think that’s a bit conceited?”

“No, I’m only stating the fact. Oh, and there is the English room, my favorite classroom. Write around the corner…get it?”

“Heh,” he chuckled, and walked in. Same result. No pencil inside. Time was running out, there were about five minutes left. So, Trevor decided to abandon the search and head down to the Social Studies room, where his next class was to be. “Listen, thanks for all your help.” He said as he walked down.

“No problem. But remember, sometimes the things you are looking for are right in plain sight.” She said and stared into his eyes. Something felt strange, he couldn’t quite explain it, but he shrugged and kept on walking, and she kept on following.

“You don’t need to accompany me anymore, if you don’t want to.”

“What do you mean? Just a few minutes ago you were desperate for me.” She replied as Trevor turned around.

“What?” Trevor turned, and in the girls place was the very pencil he had been looking for all that time. He stared, dumbfounded at the pencil. The bell rang, and Trevor picked up his pencil and went into class, feeling very, very confused.