The Ivy Lessons by J Lerman Read Free Book Online

only a few feet away from me, and I feel ... I don’t know, exposed. I wish I had a mirror so I could see what my hair was doing, and check there’s nothing on my face. He could notice all my imperfections if he wanted to – my small breasts, the slight kink in my nose, the spot growing on my chin.
    ‘Well class,’ says Marc, slotting his thumbs into the pockets of his trousers. ‘I guess you’ve heard all about me, right? You think you know me. Let me put you straight. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me, despite what you read in the newspapers . But what you should know is I’m a tough teacher.’
    The lecture theatre door creaks open, and Tom wheels himself inside, followed by Tanya. They look suitably sheepish, and Tanya squeezes into the only free seat , which happens to be beside me.
    Tom wheels himself to the side of the row, and takes his rucksack off the back of his wheelchair. In the silence of the lecture theatre, the sound of him unzipping his bag is lou d enough to wake the dead .
    ‘You two.’ Marc taps his Rolex. ‘I don’t tolerate lateness. Ever. Late again and you’re off the course.’
    Tanya’s eyes grow wide. ‘But we had to wash Tom’s wheelchair,’ she says. ‘The grounds were muddy, and it got all over his wheels.’
    ‘I don’t tolerate excuses, either,’ Marc snaps. ‘You.’ He turns to Tom. ‘ I presume operating a wheelchair isn’t a new thing for you.’
    ‘I’ve been in a wheelchair my whole life,’ says Tom, with pride in his voice. ‘And it’s never stopped me doing what other people do.’ I notice his black hat has a peacock feather in it today.
    ‘Then you should know to leave yourself more time to get places.’
    Tom’s mouth snaps closed, and Tanya whispers to me: ‘ Talk about strict.’
    ‘Let me tell you what else I won’t tolerate,’ Marc says. ‘Insubordination. You do as you’re told in my class, or when I’m directing you on stage. If I ask you to do something, it’s in your best interests. I know what’s good for you. If you can’t take instructions from me, then you’re off the course.’
    Tanya puts her hand up.
    ‘Put your hand down,’ Marc barks at her.
    She slides her hand back down.
    ‘Now,’ Marc continues. ‘I know a lot of lecturers use their first names with students, but my name is Mr Blackwell. Not Marc. Just because you’ve seen me in the movies, doesn’t mean we’re friends. You’ll call me Mr Blackwell. Any questions?’
    A few seats along from me, Cecile raises her hand. She looks flushed, and her eyes are shining.
    Another silly student with a crush.
    ‘Yes, Miss ...?’
    ‘Jefferson. Cecile Jefferson.’ She smiles at Marc, but he only frowns back.
    ‘You have a question?’ Marc asks.
    ‘I heard our first-term mark won’t count. All we have to do is pass this term, and then our marks in the second and third terms will be the ones that count towards our final grade. Is that true?’
    Marc’s lips pull tight, and the hollows in his cheeks ripple . ‘Not at my college. My students are marked at all times. Every essay and performance will count, and those not getting the grades won’t stay here for long.’
    ‘So, you’ll be marking our performances from the very first term?’ Cecile asks.
    ‘Oh yes.’ A smile plays on Marc’s lips. ‘Don’t think you’ll escape being graded, just because you’re all new . I expect the very best from all of you at all times.’
    ‘You’ll get it, Mr Blackwell,’ says Cecile.
    Marc turns to the projection screen . ‘Let me tell you about classes this year. You’ll be doing three performances, all of which be marked. I will be in charge of choosing which parts you perform. I will do this based on what I think you need the most to grow as actor s .
    ‘I made notes at your auditions, and I already have parts lined up for your first performances – which will be this week. If, at the end of that performance, I don’t think you have what it tak