Living In Love With English3

　　No boy wanted to play tricks on me, because we had another English test and I was still the best. My score was a lot higher than the second one. After the boys knew my score, they come and said to me: Questa the leader, we won’t say bad things on you from now on. You’re the leader of us. After hearing this, I laughed loudly. 　
　　I was really thankful to Mrs. Zecchetti. Since my English was the best, my maths and physics were good in our class too. That’s because the own space and time I got from our school, and the encouragement I got from Mrs. Zecchetti. I’m sure my life will be a lot rosier. 　 小荷作文网 www.zww.cn
　　After the English class, I was still reading my English textbook. I became very interested in it. Just then my classmate came and stopped in front of me, gasped hardly, “Mrs. Zecchetti wants to have a word with you.” He said. I seemed to be familiar with this sentence. I remembered last week when Mrs. Zecchetti asked me and held me in her arms, and the week before last week, Mrs. Zecchetti asked me—her new student—to do the English newspapers. I smiled and replied, “Yes, thanks.” I rose up my head, and found that Mrs. Zecchetti was still standing next to the platform. In no time she noticed that I was looking at her, and she nodded, as if asking me to come. I hurried to her from my seat. Mrs. Zecchetti looked at me and smiled sweetly. It seemed that she was a little frustrated and embarrassed. I didn’t know why. I waited for her with a smile too. Mrs. Zecchetti kept silent for just a few seconds, and slowly began speaking. 　 小 荷 作文网 www.zww.cn
　　“Well…have you had a look at today’s homework paper? We’re going to check the questions with the students tomorrow. But so far we haven’t got the correct answers to the questions from the newsstand. So…um…could you please do the paper quickly and gave it back to me today?” 　
　　It was a little silly to Mrs. Zecchetti’s words. But in the other hand, I didn’t feel even a little strange. Mrs. Zecchetti was the head teacher. She was always busy. So I nodded and asked her, “So when should I give it back to you, madam?” 　
　　Mrs. Zecchetti smiled as if she was deeply sorry to me. “Oh…Don’t worry too much about this, my child. Just don’t be too late. Maybe this afternoon will do. Can you…?” 　
　　“Certainly,” I replied excitedly. 　
　　I was excited about what Mrs. Zecchetti asked me to do. But however, it was hard work. I spent all of my free time that morning to do the papers. I answered all the questions very carefully, in order to make few mistakes. I became tired and bored just in a short time. I wondered why I didn’t have a good feeling when I did this in English. Maybe that was because I was paying to much attention to it. I thought for some seconds, and quickly start writing again. 　
　　After I finished doing the newspapers, I took them carefully to the teachers’ office. Mrs. Zecchetti wasn’t in when I got to the office, so I put the papers on her desk. I put them on and looked around. There was a name card on the corner of the desk, with large words on it: Dr. Zoey Zecchetti, head teacher of the 3rd Grade. Next to the name card, there was a large pair of glasses which had got a little dirty. There were report papers everywhere on the desk. One of the papers on the top is the places in the mid-term examination of everyone in the 3rd Grade. I had never seen a report like that. I can’t help saying to myself: wow…she can really decide and control a lot of things. But that’s why she’s always busy. As I was thinking, Mrs. Zecchetti came into the office. I was taken aback and I didn’t know what to say. “Oh…uh…madam…I’m here to…” I said in a rush, hoping to get out of here as quickly as possible. 　
　　“Finished…? You have an amazing speed, young lady! It didn’t take you too long, did it?” Mrs. Zecchetti said with a happy voice. I relaxed me efforts at once but soon I felt afraid again because Mrs. Zecchetti was coming towards me quickly. She was even running to me, and to her desk. “I have something serious to tell you.” She said and gasped. She hurried to a big folder on her desk and took out two pieces of paper and passed them to me. I took the paper from her in surprise. I looked at one of the paper. There were big words on it: Little Thinker English Talent Competition. 　
　　“So…well…are you interested in it? I hope you can take part in it. What do you think?” Mrs. Zecchetti said, and looked at me, waiting for me to answer. But I don’t have this confidence. I was shy and didn’t like to voice my opinions in front of a lot of people. I replied in a weak voice, “Well…madam…I’ve been watching this competition on TV for several years, and I find that it is very difficult. All the contestants attended the competition have great English skills…I…” Mrs. Zecchetti interrupted, “It doesn’t matter. You can work on with your maths and physics if you don’t enter this competition. That’s good for you as well.” Mrs. Zecchetti put her hand on my shoulder, “Work on it. Everything can be done well by yourself.” I nodded. “So that’s all. Go back to your classroom now, will you?” 　
　　“Of course,” I smiled. “I know what to do now. Thank you, Mrs. Zecchetti.” I replied. Mrs. Zecchetti smiled too. 　
　　I returned to the classroom and I couldn’t smile any more. Don't I really want to take part in that competition? It is a competition that is hard to get a prize, but it is definitely a great chance for me to develop my speaking and writing skills. I sent a text message to mom saying that Mrs. Zecchetti wanted me to take part in the competition. A few minutes later I got her message back. It said she had agreed. How silly I said to Mrs. Zecchetti this afternoon! 　
　　So in the evening, when my classmates were all doing their homework, I went to the teachers’ office again. There I saw Mrs. Zecchetti was waiting for somebody. She saw me and said excitedly, “I know you’ll come again. Have you changed your thought?” I nodded. She smiled fondly, and gave back the paper. “So keep them carefully. I wish you success.” I thanked her again and went out of the office. I really didn’t know how to express my feelings. Mrs. Zecchetti could find out my frame of mind and surprise me at any time. That way she could get my respect…Yes, she did. She was really experienced—She had made a great balance between me and herself. 　
　　In the evening from time to time, I took out the two papers from my folder and read the words on them excitedly. I would never get a chance like this in my old school. Everything had changed. 　
　　Later that day I got home. As soon as I entered the door, Mom said to me with a sorry voice, “I’m sorry dear…I didn’t realize that there are still some problems with your moving to this new school. I’m afraid you couldn’t enter that competition…” She held me in her arms just like Mrs. Zecchetti did. Tears just rushed out of my eyes. “I know you love English and you really want to take part in it deep in your heart. But I can do nothing…I’ll phone Mrs. Zecchetti tomorrow morning and talk to her about it.” 　
　　I was disappointed all that morning. Mom was telling me not to worry all the time while she was busy working on the Internet. She’s as busy as Mrs. Zecchetti. I felt ashamed and asked Mom to call Mrs. Zecchetti at once, but Mom just said that there’s still a lot more time to do that. She said she had got other things to do which were much more important. 　
　　I couldn’t imagine what things were more important than refusing an English competition to the head teacher. I almost cried, although Mom said so much “do not worry”s that could fill the sky, and so did I. But it didn’t work anyway. 　
　　I was sitting in front of the table but I wasn’t doing my homework. I took out the English newspapers Mrs. Zecchetti gave me with a smile and told me to finish when I was free, but I couldn’t do that right now. I was not free then. I miss her smile so much. I knew soon she would be upset just like me, and because of me. I was controlled by the love that I had in English. That feeling was terrible. I wanna hold Mrs. Zecchetti as tightly as I can, or would she hold me and drove away my sadness? Both weren’t true. I got really tired and sat there still with silence. 　
　　“Yes Mrs. Zecchetti…? Don’t say that. I’m phoning you to thank you really for our little Questa’s study. We’re so glad that she’s been braver. But the sad and sorry thing is that she couldn’t enter that…” 　
　　I couldn’t believe she’s going on. I rushed out of the house, where the awful voice’s still coming out, shut the door hardly—and shut the ears—and almost fainted on the grass growing with anger outside. I sat in the cold grass and rubbed my eyes several times. What’s worse, the voice was still coming out of the open window, like somebody’s whisper, all went into my head. 　
　　“And last…sure not the least…I want to thank you again…” 　
　　Yeah. Thanks English. You murdered me then sent me here, didn’t you? 　
　　I got really bored and hopeless.