Four Fewer Than Friday

Priya got to Room 12 before the bell rang. The Monday quiz was already on her desk: ten sentences, two columns, and a blank at the end of every line.

Last Friday she'd put all her answers in the wrong column. Five red crosses. Her teacher had drawn a small arrow at the top of the page and written, “Good answers. Wrong column!”

So today Priya kept one finger on the left column and moved it slowly down the page. Fill in the blank. Move down. Fill in the blank. Move down.

Question six was different. Circle the right word, cross out the wrong one. She circled “went.” Then she read the sentence again, crossed out “went,” and circled “gone.” The little box looked messy, but the answer was right.

At ten o’clock her teacher walked between the desks with a red pen, reading the papers.

She stopped at Priya’s desk and read the whole page. “Better,” she said. “Much better than Friday.”

“I kept my finger on the column,” Priya said.

“Whatever works.” Her teacher made one small red cross next to question nine and moved on.

Priya looked at her page for a long moment. One cross. Four fewer than Friday.