(Title pending)
Sometimes we can sense when something’s about to go south, and we can work to avoid it. Others just turn right before your eyes, and you just have to cut your losses and run. Yet, there are the ones that sneak up on you, mistakes that don’t become apparent until your neck deep into it. It’s with these merry thoughts that I start my first day of school.
The class is silent as I walk up to my desk, briefcase in hand. The ocean of emotionless faces is damn right menacing, but I’m not going to let a bunch of 11h graders scare me from my first decent pay job in a while. I take a deep breath, calm my nerve and call the class’ attention.
“Good morning class, I’m Mr. Tuan. I’m looking forward to spending the year with you. Let’s just see if everyone’s here Ok?’ No one answers. Not that I expected them to, this is real life, not some Disney Sitcom. “Sorry if any of these come out wrong…um..is there an Kagami Loroso here?”
An ebony skinned girl raises her hand, a single bracelet with an elephant charm dangling from her wrist. Something about her…. seems off.
“Good…now how about Rance Smith?”
“Here” A lanky boy with shoulder length black hair nodded at me. His uniform was impeccable, everything about him was neat, even his pencils were perfectly lined up. I just hoped he had some brains in that bleached head of his.
“Nice to meet you, Rance. Next up…” Oh Lord, “Zbigniew Polaski?” What were mother’s smoking now days? A blonde girl smiled at me. “The “B” is silent” She seemed completely at ease, relaxing in her seat. She reminded me vaguely of a relationship counselor.
“Oh…is it ok if I call you Zig?” she shrugged and smiled some more. “Alright then. Moving on,” Finally, something normal, “Nolan Summers?”
There was no answer, and then I saw Kagami kick the chair in front of her. A boy with brown super-cut and combat boots was startled. “Uh..here?” he said, and then threw dagger eyes at Kagami. She mirrored him perfectly.
“Hello Nolan. Whoa, last one already. Pretty small class, eh?” Again, no answer, even Zig didn’t offer any support. “Right then, let’s see. Morgan Jackson?” A girl with purple hair and a black jacket over her uniform stuck her finger up. Geez…. one in every class.
“Right… well It’s nice to meet you Morgan”
“Totes thanks bro”
What? I mentally note to learn the lingo of the classroom before the year is out.
“Ok…um. So who here remembers what we learnt last year in Literature Study?”
The class simply turned to their laptops. One or two put headphones in. I turn to my own laptop, and pull up Morgan's screen.
Skype
Mørgån: Damn, Twan’s a noob
Kagami Loroso <3: He doesn’t seem that bad… he feels like he’s new at this, but he want’s it really badly. I can relate.
Mørgån: Is thar nythin u don’t relat 2?
Kagami Loroso <3: Eh. Sometimes I feel… like I relate too much.
Mørgån: That’s deep.
Kagami Loroso <3: lol. I know, I’m just deep like that
Mørgån: Oo
Kagami Loroso <3: EEW! You’re disgusting. Time out for you missy.
Mørgån has been blocked.
After a painful recap of their sub-standard knowledge, I glumly resign to my desk, watching the screens of my class’s laptops on my own. It was standard school monitoring, and I felt a bit bad for the naivety of the kids. Then I saw Nolan’s copy of the Literature Recap paper hit the floor. I pulled up his screen on the system.
Oovoo Chat
Nølåñ O¬ : I just don’t understand why your so prissy all the time.
Råñçé™: C’mon man. That’s low. & it applies to you 2 (obviously)
Nølåñ O¬: Dude, I’m BI.
Råñçé™: It’s because of Zig, isn’t it? 6 months of us and you still can’t get over her.
Nølåñ O¬: Bro, I’m over her.
Råñçé™: Then why do you keep your “Bi” shield?
Nølåñ O¬: WTH It’s not a shield. It’s the freakin’ truth. So don’t get so snappy at me about being homophobic if you don’t freakin believe in Bis!
I close the screen immediately. I’ve had my full share of teen drama…but this…this was just too much. I look pitifully at Nolan, who has an impassive face on. For the first time I notice the necklace he and Rance both have: a simple chain with two parallel lines on it: never intersecting, but standing side by side.
I decide not to pry any more, getting up to try and get the class to participate.
The Next day.
All five of my students are in class by the time I arrive from lunch. As I expected, none but Zig had done their homework. It looks like I’ll have to go a little unorthodox to get them to engage.
Three difficult lectures later, I settle into my chair as the kids tackle their Shakespearian language pamphlets, or at least try to keep them on their desks.
I’m seriously annoyed by the lack of effort they’ve put in so far. Ok, Ok, it’s the 2nd day of school, but still, they should’ve expected that one class would have a first week absent of “getting to know each other” games and pointless creative writing exercises.
The indicator on my laptop blinks, and I curiously open Zig’s Screen.
PTSG
Advice and tips for premature moth-
The Internet screen closes, as Zig clicks the red “X” at the top. I close the system and let my head sink into my hands. Dear lord. Zig must have forgotten to close the screen when she came to school, and now I knew more about her than I would’ve liked.
Shakily I get up and move over to Nolan, asking him how his worksheet was coming.
45 minutes later, Nolan seems to be able to understand what an “iamb” is. The whole conversation is burdened with an awkward sense of Nolan’s predicament, and how he seemed to sort off know that I knew. I kept glancing over at Zig, hoping I was a bit subtler than I appeared.
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