Laura Danker Character Analysis

The teacher wasn’t in the room when we got there. That is, the real teacher. There was this girl, who I thought was the teacher, but she turned out to be a kid in our class. She was very tall (that’s why I thought she was the teacher) with eyes shaped like a cat’s. You could see the outline of her bra through her blouse and you could also tell from the front that it wasn’t the smallest size. She sat down alone and didn’t talk to anyone. I wondered if maybe she was new too, because everybody else was busy talking and laughing about summer vacations and new hair styles and all that.

But on the other side of me things were even worse. I was next to Laura Danker! I was afraid to even look her way. Nancy warned me that reputations were catching. Well, I didn’t have to worry because Laura didn’t look my way either. She looked straight ahead.

To make matters worse I had to sit facing Laura Danker. I hated her. I hated her for being so big and beautiful and having all the boys stare at her, including Mr. Benedict. Also, I hated her because she knew she was normal and I didn’t know a thing about me!

Now that really started me thinking. For one thing, I never knew she was Catholic. For another, I wondered what she said in Confession. I mean, did she talk about what she did with boys? And if she did, what did the priest say to her? Did she go to Confession every time she did something bad? Or did she save it all up and go once a month?

“Don’t you think I know all about you and your friends? Do you think it’s any fun to be the biggest kid in the class?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about it.”

“Well, try thinking about it. Think about how you’d feel if you had to wear a bra in fourth grade and how everybody laughed and how you always had to cross your arms in front of you. And about how the boys called you dirty names just because of how you looked.”

I thought about it. “I’m sorry, Laura,” I said.

“I’ll bet!”

“I really am. If you want to know the truth…well, I wish I looked more like you than like me.”

I really hurt Laura’s feelings. Why did you let me do that? I’ve been looking for you God. I looked in temple. I looked in church. And today, I looked for you when I wanted to confess. But you weren’t there. I didn’t feel you at all. Not the way I do when I talk to you at night. Why God? Why do I only feel you when I’m alone?

The teacher wasn’t in the room when we got there. That is, the real teacher. There was this girl, who I thought was the teacher, but she turned out to be a kid in our class. She was very tall (that’s why I thought she was the teacher) with eyes shaped like a cat’s. You could see the outline of her bra through her blouse and you could also tell from the front that it wasn’t the smallest size. She sat down alone and didn’t talk to anyone. I wondered if maybe she was new too, because everybody else was busy talking and laughing about summer vacations and new hair styles and all that.

But on the other side of me things were even worse. I was next to Laura Danker! I was afraid to even look her way. Nancy warned me that reputations were catching. Well, I didn’t have to worry because Laura didn’t look my way either. She looked straight ahead.

To make matters worse I had to sit facing Laura Danker. I hated her. I hated her for being so big and beautiful and having all the boys stare at her, including Mr. Benedict. Also, I hated her because she knew she was normal and I didn’t know a thing about me!

Now that really started me thinking. For one thing, I never knew she was Catholic. For another, I wondered what she said in Confession. I mean, did she talk about what she did with boys? And if she did, what did the priest say to her? Did she go to Confession every time she did something bad? Or did she save it all up and go once a month?

“Don’t you think I know all about you and your friends? Do you think it’s any fun to be the biggest kid in the class?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I never thought about it.”

“Well, try thinking about it. Think about how you’d feel if you had to wear a bra in fourth grade and how everybody laughed and how you always had to cross your arms in front of you. And about how the boys called you dirty names just because of how you looked.”

I thought about it. “I’m sorry, Laura,” I said.

“I’ll bet!”

“I really am. If you want to know the truth…well, I wish I looked more like you than like me.”

I really hurt Laura’s feelings. Why did you let me do that? I’ve been looking for you God. I looked in temple. I looked in church. And today, I looked for you when I wanted to confess. But you weren’t there. I didn’t feel you at all. Not the way I do when I talk to you at night. Why God? Why do I only feel you when I’m alone?