Scene 5: Teacher, Student, Confrontation
By: DropDeadThenDance
Karl patted my shoulder as the bell rang. “I’m sticking to my theory,” he said simply and I frowned a little, my legs held tightly together as I tried to keep myself from running form the classroom.
“I doubt it, Karl,” I murmured, watching people packing up for class. “I think he’s onto me,” I grumbled quietly.
“What?” Karl asked, leaning over the desk and smiling at me. “That you’re a lazy little fuck?” he teased, his eyes holding that sleepy look I was so used to. He tapped me on top of the head with his notebook, than straightened up with his dreary smirk on his face. “Maybe you’ll finally get your paycheck teacher,” he said simply then turned and started out of the room along with everyone else.
Traitor, I grumbled internally. I glanced up then, seeing Mr. Anderson walking over. He grabbed a chair and turned it around, sitting on it with is arms resting on the back of the chair, looking at me across the table. I tried to be calm, but he made me uncomfortable with those dark eyes, and Karl’s little theory wasn’t my mind set at all. “So what’s up?” I opened simply.
“Do you know what your grade in my class is?” he was frank, straight to the point, and I felt a lot better about the situation knowing this was about my grades. He’d only been here a month now, he didn’t know how little I cared, or how little my parents knew… Heh, if they found out about my grades. I pushed the thought from my head. “Last time I checked… Uh,” I felt stupid, realizing I hadn’t checked my grades since the school year started. I just didn’t care.
“An F,” he filled in the blank, seeming to notice my lack of one. “But you sit back here with a math book, staring at it, for the entire class period,” he said and I felt myself smile a little, that awkward nervousness coming back over me. Karl was right about one thing; he had been looking at me, we just hadn’t known it was about my grades.
I chilled myself down, like I’d done when any other teacher had asked about my grades. None of them had ever pulled me aside, sure, but I knew how to talk to them. “You’re new,” I said simply and he sat a little straighter, watching me. I pushed my chair back against the wall, making it into my favorite in-school recliner. “I probably have an F in every class, not just yours, and everybody knows I don’t intend to fix that anytime soon.”
“Uh-huh,” his voice was sharp and I flinched, my fingers twitching a little. “So you’re just being lazy?” he asked, my chair plopping back forward the way it was supposed to be.
“No… Well, I’m not doing the assignments because of the teachers. They treat everybody like crap, and I’m not putting up with it,” I countered, feeling offended by his statement. I wasn’t lazy, I was a rebel. Huge difference there, certainly, and I was going to stick to my ideals.
He smiled a little at me, his entire disposition coated in a layer of sarcastic goo. “Right,” he drawled slowly, teasing me with the slowness of his statement. “The teachers are crappy, so you’re sacrificing your grades, grades collages are going to look at, because you’re too moody to put up with some staff?” he asked and I stared at him. He stood up, pushed his chair back under the desk in front of me, than looked down at me. “If that’s how you’re thinking, I’d suggest not coming to school.”
“Why?” I stupidly asked.
He placed his hands against the surface of the table, staring at me with those razor sharp brown eyes. “Because I could be dealing with students who actually need my help, instead of wasting my valuable time on some egotistical little shit,” no censorship, no honey coated advice. He cut straight down to the bone and then turned and walked away, leaving me wounded.
I pushed my seat back when I stood. “That’s not it,” I countered, walking briskly to catch up with him as he went back to his desk. “When the teachers are better, my grades will go up,” I explained, thinking he’d get it.
He turned on me, looking down sharply. “You know what I want you to do?” he asked, turning to face me fully. “Call up a collage, talk to somebody, and tell them that same thing. Let me know if they laugh,” he said and I stared up at him. He headed back over to his desk and sat down, his hands shifting over some papers on his desk; turned in homework assignments. “You’re going to run into things you don’t want to do your whole life, there’s no reason to waste your high school years griping about it now. Save it for the things that’ll actually piss you off,” he was harsh, despite how smooth his voice was, and it made me mad.
“I don’t have to listen to you. I’m old enough to decide on my own,” I retorted quickly, walking back to my desk and grabbing my bag, about to leave.
“No, you don’t have to listen to me,” he said back and I turned, staring him down across the room. He looked at me with dark eyes, like he was scolding a little kid for coloring on the wall. “But while you’re in this classroom, while you are my responsibility, you’re not going to piss on your assignments,” he stood then, challenging me. “Gets you’re grades up and get your head out of your ass.”
“You’re not my dad, I don’t have to hear this shit,” there was venom in my voice when I replied, and I left the room without so much as a second glance at Mr. Anderson. None of the teachers had challenged me on it, not even the principle had tried to change my way of thinking, but this guy’s here a month and he thinks he can tell me what to do?
Isn’t that exactly what I wanted?
I shook my head, frustrated with everything, as I headed towards the Art room just in time for the bell to ring. I swore, turning around again, and heading for gym. One more hour and school was done with, the weekend almost here, and I could spend a few days away from that guy.
I felt someone poke my shoulder and I glanced down, seeing Megan bouncing next to me. “What’s got you in such a mood?” she asked cutely and I felt my face fall, unsure of how to answer. She stared for a moment then wrapped her arm around mine, pulling me over to her a bit. “Don’t worry about it. The days almost over,” she grinned at this. “We can go get pizza after this, my treat.”
I sighed. “The Megan Lifestyle,” I introduced. “Where any and all situations can be improved with pizza.”
Scene End
[Reviews - 21]Chapter or Story
Table of Contents
- Text Size +
Chapter notes:Alright, this is my double update for this week! Enjoy everybody!!
(4/11/13)