Third Time Unlucky

Grey Cove High school had been built in the mid-sixties, an era of maze-like wooden halls with icy-white tiles for flooring: this greatly enhanced the illusion that you were in a psychiatric ward. These spooky features were disorientating and rather unpleasant normally, without all the added hysteria and pressure of Australasia’s imminent warfare. The freshman English class of Mr. Bunderella walked through the halls at both a fluid pace and a fluid heart-rate. No one spoke a word, apart from Mr. Bunderella, who directed the children to the parking lot in which the school stored its vehicles.

‘Stop’ ordered Mr. Bunderella, his Michigan accent sounding more and more vicious with every word he spoke. ‘Nobody move from here, I’ll go get the keys.’
‘Wait!’ cried an extremely small girl with a slight cockney accent: Morgan.
‘We can’t all possibly fit into one of those small seven-people carries, that’s madness!’ ‘Yeah!’ piped up another girl next to Morgan, with dark brown hair and an extremely flexible mouth, Marie. ‘Look, I know you’re American, but this isn’t a movie!’
Mr. Bunderella looked taken aback, the last people he ever expected to stir up concern was Marie and Morgan, because they were his ‘good students’. He, of course, had no idea who they were out of his English class.
‘Right, well, can anybody here drive a vehicle or ride a golf buggy?’
‘No, but I can ride your mum’ yelled a boy about one-eighth of an inch taller than Morgan with Violent red hair: Mitch. The entire class turned their heads slowly to face him with expressions of surprise, shock, and disbelief.
‘Sorry’ he said, slightly red(er) ‘Immediate response’
‘None of us may be able to drive’ said Laura, ‘but I think Mr. McIntire would be capable of doing so, and he’s over there, with the… vehicle keys! HE’S GOT THE KEYS!’

The whole class ran across the lot to a very scared looking Laurie McIntire, The classes ‘Physical Education’ teacher. He had a rather… alternative… style of teaching and was most certainly gay. Not that anyone in the class had any issues with homosexuality, but when it comes in the form of a slightly creepy physical education teacher who is rumored to have ‘wandering hands’ and lurks around the boys changing rooms, it is slightly unappreciated. Mr. Bunderella was the first to say anything to Mr. McIntire.
‘Hello, Laurie’ he said in his acidic voice that he had used on the likes of Darryn so many times, his mouth curling into a frightening smile. ‘I do hope you were going to share those keys around, I really do, because news travels fast, oh, so it does. And it would have been so cruel of you to take all those vehicles for just you and your… friends’ Mr. Bunderella gestured to the four-or-so senior students that it was rumored that Mr. McIntire gave ‘extra tutoring’ to. McIntire swallowed nervously, his Adams Apple rolling in his neck.
‘Yes! Yes, of course I was.’ said McIntire, his voice rather high, even for him. ‘Here, why don’t we have all the cars split between us, and drive the kids out of the school, as a group, huh?’
‘What a wonderful idea, Laurie’ hissed Mr. Bunderella ‘I would really appreciate that… how considerate of you, to think of the… children.’ Bunderella turned now to speak to the class, directing them to a carrier:
‘Right… Darryn, Logan, Mitch, Vinny, Dayner and Brandon, get into that carrier. Isla, Ciara, Yasmin, Chelsea, Sabine, and Laura, into the other one...’ on and on he continued until every student was on their way, with prior instruction by the class, to Darryn’s cabins at Piha beach.