Distracted

• Jasmine Kouch, Grade 11, Glen Waverley Secondary College
• Short Story
• 2011

Finalist in the 'Step Write Up 2011' competition

I wandered around the food court for some time and finally found a nice comfortable corner to pull out my homework for the day. I had a nice window seat- to enjoy the view of the bustling outside world. Rain was pelting hard down on the concrete pavement below as a girl sat at the bus stop across the street attempting to pull a few more layers on to shield herself from the winter chill. The food court was a loud place during this time of day as people were coming in and out trying to grab some lunch before heading off to continue their daily routine. Cranking up the volume on my iPod, I shut off the conversations from the many other people sharing this large dining hall with me and refocused my attention to the work that I had laid out to do.
Maths. I spun my pen with my fingers and stared hard at the question. Looking outside again, I saw an old fragile man attempting to cross the busy road. He looked left and then right and walked. Luckily there were no cars as he took his time and got to the bus stop safely greeting the young girl on the other side. A bus drove passed as he hailed for it, but it kept driving on. Cussing, he made his way to the seat and placed himself down comfortably preparing himself to wait for another half an hour for his next ride home. By this time two ladies took a seat on the table beside me and the smell of Indian Cuisine began to waft past my nostrils. The scent of a sweet spice was divine and as if in response to that, my stomach grumbled.
I’m horrible at Maths, it’s my worst subject. They’re just pages and pages of numbers and letters of which you are supposed to somehow come up with a logical answer for and write it down on your flimsy notebook. Sighing, I scribbled down a number half heartedly. The sky darkened and the rain continued to fall. It’s been probably a week since it rained this hard- I guess Melbourne can’t uphold such nice weather for so long.
My music changed and a really upbeat, catchy song came on. Knowing that I was about to sing along to it and maybe even start dancing strangely in my chair, I chose a soothing ballad with Chinese lyrics so I know I could not possibly sing along to it because I am hopeless at speaking my own national language. Putting my head down, I concentrated on the next equation.
As I finally worked out the answer for it, a loud buzzing sound vibrated my table and upon realizing that my mother was calling me; I found out she had come to pick me up.
Sighing, I wearily looked back at my dreaded textbook and threw it into my bag. This piece of homework might take me awhile, I thought.