by Jordan Lynde
The blond gave me a withering look. ‘Your point?’
‘We don’t give a crap about the school rules,’ the mahogany-haired one commented offhandedly. ‘It’s not like anyone is around to snitch on us.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not anyone?’
‘No,’ the blond said, taking a step closer. ‘Because you’re not going to tell anyone, and I’m going to make sure of it.’
My eyes widened and I took a step back, frightened by his look. He continued to advance on me, and I stumbled backward, trying to keep the distance.
‘Hey.’
Both the blond’s and my attention snapped to the guy with the English accent. He looked at the pair of us lazily, a look of indifference on his face. ‘Tucker, you can threaten her as much as you want later, but we’re in the middle of a fight, aren’t we?’
The blond, Tucker, scowled at him. ‘But she’s—’
‘Do you really think she’s going to go tell someone? She’s petrified. We have about five minutes until class begins, so let’s finish this—’
‘Hey,’ I interrupted, glaring at the English guy. ‘I came over here to stop this fight, and I’m not going to let you continue it.’
His lip twitched in amusement. ‘And how,’ he started, taking a few steps toward me, ‘do you expect to do that?’
‘Uh,’ I hesitated, determined to hold my ground and not be intimidated by this guy, ‘I’ll, uh . . .’
‘Uh,’ he mocked, a smirk now clearly evident on his face. ‘That’s such a scary threat.’
I flushed in embarrassment, glaring as best as I could.
Tucker chuckled. ‘Can’t we just teach her a quick lesson?’ he suggested, looking at the guy with mahogany hair imploringly.
‘I suppose we have time,’ he responded.
‘What about the fight?’ the English one demanded, glaring at the other two. ‘Huh?’
‘We can finish it later,’ Tucker said dismissively.
‘What? You’re just backing out because you were losing!’ the short-haired boy who had been on the ground accused him.
‘Cowards,’ the English guy added.
‘That’s it,’ Tucker growled, advancing on him again. ‘Let’s see how long your pretty face lasts against my fists.’
‘Hey!’ I cried, moving forward to place myself between the two. ‘Don’t!’
Tucker didn’t stop. I flinched, expecting to be hit, but a hand on my shoulder yanked me to the side forcefully, and shoved me out of the way. ‘You’re an idiot,’ the English one snapped, giving me a push backward. ‘Stay out of it.’
‘I will not stand here and let you guys fight,’ I said, standing up straighter.
They all stared at me, varying expressions on their faces. The short-haired boy looked the most amused. But before he could do anything else, a piercing noise sounded across the gap.
The school bell, also known as my savior.
‘Crap!’ he cried. ‘If I’m late again I’m going to get detention for two weeks!’
Some nasty words were thrown around, but the young men dispersed, the English one shooting me a dirty look as he brushed by. For a second I felt relieved, until I remembered that if those guys were late, it meant I was late too. I quickly left the gap, heading back toward the main entrance. I was in luck: a woman was walking up the steps. I walked as quickly as I could, trying to catch her.
‘Wait!’ I cried, stumbling up the steps as she opened the door.
The woman turned at looked at me curiously, but held the door open. ‘Thank you,’ I said, looking up at her.
She had brown hair that just barely went past her shoulders, chocolate-colored eyes and looked like she was maybe in her mid-thirties. Smiling warmly, she raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Is there something wrong?’
‘No, the doors were just locked and I didn’t know how to get in,’ I told her, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
The woman chuckled. ‘You must be new here. The doors are usually always locked. Students can use their ID to open the door, but there’s a visitors’ button you can press right on the wall there.’
She pointed out the glass doors to a small red button that had the words ‘visitors’ button’ written above it. I frowned, trying to figure out how I hadn’t seen it before.
‘Whoops,’ I commented, forcing out a laugh. ‘And yeah, I’m new here.’
‘Nice to meet you, then,’ the woman said, holding out her hand. ‘I’m Emma Rose.’
‘Harley Allen,’ I told her, taking her hand and shaking it. ‘Nice to meet you too.’
‘What grade are you in?’
My heart sunk a little and I frowned at her. So she thought I was a student? Did that mean I didn’t look any older at all? ‘I’m actually a new substitute teacher here,’ I told her, scratching my head. ‘Don’t be deceived by my looks.’
Emma blinked in surprise. ‘Really? The new home economics sub?’
I blinked back at her, a little bit taken aback. Had the principal already mentioned me? ‘Yeah, that’s me.’
‘I heard you looked young, but you look really young!’ she responded, her eyes wide. ‘You’re twenty-two, right?’
‘Right,’ I responded, fiddling with my fingers in nervousness.
‘Some people get all the luck! I wish I looked that young.’
I forced a laugh. ‘Yeah . . .’
‘Well, it was nice meeting you, Harley, but I’m late,’ Emma informed me, glancing at her watch. ‘Good luck with your first day! You’re going to need it.’
I opened my mouth to ask her what she meant, but she was already walking away. I frowned after her, a little miffed. What did she mean, I was going to need luck? Was it because of the students? Whatever she meant, it couldn’t be as bad as what had happened earlier with the people fighting.
Realization abruptly washed over me. If those young men fighting were in school uniform, didn’t that mean they were students? And if they were students that meant they could be in one of my classes . . .
Suddenly I was regretting my decision to take up this job.
Chapter Five
‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ I said, walking into the principal’s office – I’d been instructed to do so on my first day. ‘I don’t have anything to open the door.’ Not to mention I wasn’t used to getting checked over by a security guard every time I entered the building.
Collin looked up from his desk and gave me an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry about that. I have a card here for you. And don’t worry about being late – you don’t have a first-period class.’
I nodded, relieved, and took a seat on the chair across from him. Bringing my hands onto my lap, I stared at him expectantly. He pulled open one of the desk drawers and fished around in it for a moment before pulling out a big black binder, which he placed on the desk.
‘Here’s your planner,’ he said, sliding it across the desk so I could take it. ‘Ms Dawson, our home ec teacher, already planned out the year’s coursework with everything required; the requirements are in there as well. Since you’re subbing for so long, I felt like you might like to use this as a reference, but you can feel free to change it if you want.’
I opened the binder, and scanned the first week of the planner. A bunch of foods were listed, some of which I had never heard of. I looked back up at Collin with a sheepish look. ‘Uh . . . what do I do if I don’t know how to make something?’
‘I don’t expect you to know everything, so that’s OK,’ he responded simply. ‘You have more experience than any subs we’ve had before, since we normally just require a high school diploma. But if you do want to teach the students something new, just research how to make it before the class.’
I sighed lightly. There would be a lot of cooking ahead of me. But I liked cooking, so it wouldn’t be that bad. I looked down at today’s class schedule and a frown appeared on my face when I noticed I only had one class. ‘Do I only have one class? In the afternoon?’
‘Hm
m?’ he responded, glancing over the desk at the planner. ‘Oh, the juniors are on a field trip today, and the sophomores have a class meeting second period, when you would normally have them. Lucky you.’
‘So, what? My seventh period class is freshmen?’
Collin laughed. ‘No, freshmen can’t take home economics. Your last class is seniors.’
‘Seniors?’ I repeated, my eyes widening. Oh, crap: I wasn’t even a senior myself! I was a junior!
‘I know it sounds intimidating, but most of them are trying to graduate, so they shouldn’t be too much of a hassle,’ he explained, smiling at me. ‘It’s why they’re taking home ec every day – they need the credits. Now, don’t look so scared. While we do get a bad rep, our students wouldn’t harm you.’
‘Do fights happen often? I came across one this morning.’
To my surprise, Collin didn’t seem surprised. He just sighed heavily, shaking his head. ‘No matter how many times I tell the students not to have fights, there’s always at least three a day.’
‘Wait – so this happens a lot?’ I asked.
‘It’s a school full of troubled kids, kids with issues, what do you think?’
I chewed on my bottom lip. Was I really going to be safe here?
‘Did one of the boys you came across this morning have an English accent?’ Collin asked.
‘Yeah!’ I said, nodding. ‘That was one of them!’
He scowled slightly. ‘Oliver . . .’
‘Oliver?’ I repeated.
‘He’s a senior this year and has been causing trouble ever since he arrived,’ Collin explained, shaking his head. ‘Along with his friend Zak Adler, who I’m assuming was also with him.’
‘The one with the sleeve? The tattoos?’
He nodded. ‘Those two are always together.’
‘Do they often get into fights? Aren’t there rules against that?’
‘There are many strict rules,’ Collin told me. ‘However, since this is a corrections school, do you really think everyone is going to follow them? They’d rather get in trouble.’
‘I’m guessing a lot of detentions and suspensions are given out, then?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, grimacing, ‘but let’s move on to your class schedule.’
I stared down at the planner in front of me. ‘I have classes every day on second, fifth, and seventh periods?’
‘Yes, so you can use first, third, and sixth as prep periods,’ Collin said. ‘You won’t need the whole period, but that time is scheduled for cleaning up and preparing materials for the next class.’
‘What about fourth period?’
‘It’s your free period,’ he told me, leaning back in his chair. ‘You might have lunch duty sometimes, but other than that you’re free to do what you want.’
I nodded. That didn’t sound too bad. ‘Where is the regular home ec teacher? How come he or she needs a sub?’
‘She’s very sick,’ Collin told me. ‘She needs some time off so she can get better.’
‘Oh, that’s crappy,’ I said. ‘I hope she gets better.’
Collin smiled. ‘I’m sure she will. But in the meantime, I’m happy to have you here.’
There was a sudden knock at the door and I jumped, turning in my seat to see who it was. A student with bleach-blond hair stood there, a scared look on her face. She was playing with her fingers nervously. ‘You wanted to see me, Mr Martin?’ she asked quietly, her eyes glued to the floor.
Collin glanced at her, nodding, even though she wasn’t looking at him. ‘Just one moment, Ms Moore.’
I stared at the girl, a little bit surprised. She didn’t look intimidating in the least bit. If she was trouble, then her appearance was really giving the phrase ‘looks can be deceiving’ a whole new meaning.
‘Well, Ms Allen, I guess this brings us to the end of our conversation,’ Collin announced, standing up from his chair. ‘Good luck with your first day and first class. Feel free to explore, and if you get lost, don’t be afraid to go into a classroom to ask for directions.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I’m not going to get lost.’
‘We’ll see,’ he responded with an amused glint to his eye. ‘Goodbye.’
I sighed, getting out of my seat and trudging to the door. The blonde smiled hesitantly at me and I returned it before leaving the room completely. Not knowing what else to do, I started down the hall in search of my classroom – I guessed I would be exploring after all. But if the students were in class, that meant I wouldn’t run into them, which was good. Picking a direction at random, I took a deep breath, let it out slowly and headed off.
There wasn’t much to see in the school. It was set up like any other school, with lots of classrooms, a lunchroom, a library, an auditorium and a gym. There was a pretty nice weights room across from the gym, but I didn’t work out that often, so it didn’t appeal to me too much.
During my exploration I’d come across two students arguing loudly and swearing profusely, but once they noticed me they both hurried off. Other than that, it didn’t seem like there was a lot of trouble happening.
After spending some time in the library, I followed a mass of kids walking down the hall and ended up at the cafeteria again. As soon as I entered the boisterous room, I wanted to cover my ears. All around me were masses of students – at the tables, in line, hanging around the trashcans. I looked around the room, locating the à la carte line and heading over to it. In front of me stood the girl with bleach-blond hair from the principal’s office. She noticed me at the same time I noticed her and smiled. I smiled back, walking closer to her.
‘Hi again,’ I started, stopping beside her. ‘Do you know what’s for lunch today?’
‘Uh, I think it’s pizza or cheeseburgers,’ she said, sounding much more energetic than earlier.
‘Pizza?’ I repeated, a smile spreading across my face. ‘I haven’t had that in forever!’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, my little brother doesn’t like it, so I never get a chance to eat it,’ I explained, walking forward with her. ‘My name’s Harley, by the way.’
‘Melissa,’ she said amicably. ‘What grade are you in?’
Here we go again. ‘Um, I’m not a student. I’m the new home ec teacher,’ I said awkwardly – it sounded so unbelievable coming from my mouth. Hopefully she wouldn’t see through my lie. Maybe I shouldn’t have introduced myself with my first name, though.
Her eyes lit up in excitement. ‘Really? Wow! You look so young!’
‘Yeah, I’m aware,’ I said, grimacing a little.
She laughed quietly, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder. ‘Sorry, you probably get that all the time. So you’re covering for Ms Dawson while she’s away?’
‘Yeah. I heard she’s sick.’
She nodded, grabbing a plastic lunch tray off the side counter. I copied her, grabbing a few napkins as well. ‘Yeah, I feel really bad for her. But you seem like a cool sub. I’m a sophomore, so you’ll have me second period tomorrow since we had a meeting today,’ she told me, grabbing a bag of chips. ‘Pepperoni,’ she added, directed at the lunch lady.
‘Same,’ I said when the lunch lady turned to look at me.
After paying, Melissa and I parted ways. I was a little disappointed – I’d been hoping she’d offer to let me sit with her – but I remembered I was a teacher, and that would be weird. So, lonely again, I walked out of the lunchroom and headed toward my classroom to eat. If I had to eat lunch alone every day, I would be very depressed. Lunch was supposed to be a time where you got to spend time with friends.
After finding my classroom, I sat down at my desk with my tray of food and began to eat. The classroom wasn’t exactly amazing, but at least there was no graffiti on the wall. There were ten tables in the room, each equipped with two burners, a sink, and an oven. The sinks were a little rusted, but not horribly – I figured the school had to have some kind of donation to afford all the equipment for the class. There was also a pantry where the
dishes and food were kept. While all the goods were the knock-off brand, it was well stocked.
I glanced down at the binder on my desk and flipped it open. The day’s schedule was chocolate cake. Suddenly it was hard to swallow my food. In two periods, I’d be teaching my first class . . . of seniors. I put down my fork, suddenly too nervous to eat.
By the time sixth period rolled around, I was shaking from nerves and anxiety. I so wasn’t ready for this. I tapped my fingers nervously on my desk, leaning back in my seat, taking deep breaths to calm myself. It wouldn’t be that bad, I kept telling myself. As long as I was confident, it would go fine. The ingredients were already set up on each table for the students: a carton of eggs, a jar of caramel, a squeeze bottle of chocolate sauce, flour, sugar, a jug of water and a can of cocoa powder.
I glanced at the clock. Five minutes before the class started. Enough time for a quick bathroom break. Pushing myself off my chair, I headed toward the bathroom down the hall. As I washed my hands, I checked myself out in the mirror. My hair was still up in a bun, and my make-up surprisingly stayed un-smudged. Still, I didn’t feel as though I looked even close to twenty-two. What if they saw through my disguise? What if I sucked at talking in front of all the students? There was no way I could do this – I’d gotten over my head with this one.
A bell went off, making me jump and nearly lose my balance. I clung to the sink for support as I steadied myself, then I glanced at the watch on my wrist. Had I been off about the bell schedule? I hurried out of the bathroom and back to the classroom, where the students had just arrived. I hesitated only a minute before entering.
Nobody in the room looked up at me as I crossed the threshold into the room. They continued talking, a few sitting on the desktops, and one even sitting at my desk. As I grew closer, I realized the one sitting at my desk was the English guy, Oliver, from earlier. ‘Excuse me,’ I said trying not to sound as nervous as I felt. ‘That’s my desk . . .’
The whole room went silent now, and I felt everyone’s eyes on me. Oliver slowly looked up at me, a disinterested expression on his face. When he realized who I was, a familiar amused smirk slipped onto his face. ‘Oh, you’re a teacher?’ he asked, sitting up in my chair now.