I realize you are the King the minute you enter the classroom. Your royal court gives it away. Two knights flank you, cell phones drawn. Your jester launches spitballs into a girl’s hair, triggering laughter. A bottle of Prime and a fistbump are offered by your cupbearer as you pass. You choose the back row, slouching into your seat with arms crossed before looking up to assess me. My mouth twitches when I match your face to the name on the list. I may only be the Substitute in your kingdom, but guess what, Your Majesty: I know your mom.
Marita Lietz lives in England with her husband, 2.4 children, chocolate Labrador, and a very grumpy cat. She is currently working on her first novel.