September 1st, Lunch Period – Part 1

I’m currently walking around the block, outside of the school. Out of all the first days of school I’ve taught, this was certainly one of them. I don’t know if there was something in the water supply, or some once in a century calamity, but the kids this year were exceptionally weird. I’m genuinely in shock. I’m not sure if I’m being overly judgmental, or there’s a generation gap in play, but I need confirmation about these damn kids from my closest confidant. Time to get some wife advice. I’m a bit old fashioned, so I have a smartphone-style communicator rather than an holo-display. For some reason, it hates my fingerprints. Actually, most devices hate my fingerprints. The DMV, my phone, the background checks necessary to teach at a public school, it always ends up taking forever. Speaking of taking forever, this tangent is starting to take some substantial time out of my lunch break.

As I’m about to hit the call button, I see a number appear on the screen. Well, it’s now or never. I ain’t gonna live forever. I’m just gonna live like I’m alive. It’s my wife. The split second I press the button, I hear a stern, yet familiar voice on the other side.

“Penny. How many wife puns are you going to make today.”

“I tried to think of a wife pun for that, but I failed. I’ll get my revenge next time. Also, does the Bon Jovi reference count as a pun?”

“The ‘it’s my wife’ at the end was a pun, so yes. Anyways, what’s going on with you? I feel a disturbance.”

“…Is it just me, or are the kids this year a bit on the crazy side?”

“Elaborate. Kids are always a bit crazy. You’re teaching both 9th and 10th graders this year, right? Maybe that’s why.”

That’s definitely not it. I’ve seen my fair share of high schoolers. I don’t think Sally understands what I mean.

“Sally, close your eyes and let the sepia tone wash over you. Let me recount to you the story of my day, as it happened, more or less. Maybe.”

Sally provides some flashback appropriate sound effects as I start to explain.

~~~

It’s first period, right off the heels of my conversation with Danny. This is my 9th grade class, by the way. There isn’t any real class today, the kids are just filling out information about themselves, reading the syllabus, that sort of thing. There aren’t any assigned seats, due to my personal hangups thanks to my last name beginning with B (I was always near the corner, every year). Everyone is there, except for this one girl, who for some reason was late to class on the very first day of school. I already had a slightly negative impression of her because of that. So, everyone’s filling their sheets out, everything’s looking normal. Until, of course, Miss Can’t-Show-Up-To-The-First-Day-of-Class-On-Time pops in 15 minutes late. I did my best impression of an authority figure and said:

“Alright, there’s no assigned seats, so sit anywhere you like. I hope for your sake you don’t make this a habit.”

“Okee! ❤,” she says, and sits down at my desk. This elicits a mixture of laughter and shock from my cohort of children. What. There are several things wrong with this entire interaction, so let’s get the obvious one out of the way first. IT’S HER FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!? WHY IS SHE DOING THIS? HOW? WHAT PURPOSE DOES THIS SERVE? HELLO? This is immensely stupid on its own, but paired with her lateness, it feels deliberate. Like she’s trying to make herself look rebellious, or cooler than everyone else in her cohort. Maybe I’m just looking for a reason so it will all click together in my head. What doesn’t click in my head is this ❤ noise. It’s like an actual heart noise. I don’t know why, but I associate it with the Unicode symbol for a heart. I don’t know how a human being can even vocalize this! Her appearance is also incredibly pink. She’s dressed like she’s on a movie set, with pink vinyl boots, light pink stockings, a frilly pink dress that appears to be quite expensive, and light pink opera gloves. She’s also got a pink mini purse on, and it looks like she’s looking for something. Everyone in the class is staring at her, and it’s going to be a major problem for me if their sheets remain incomplete. I sigh and say:

“Can you please sit down with the rest of your peers.”

“Gimme a sec. ❤”

I’m not going to give her a sec. This is going to set a horrible precedent for the class going forward if I don’t lay down the law. I beckon at her with my fingers, with a serious look in my face.

“Last chance. Get up from my desk, or you’re coming with me to the principal’s office.”

Pouting, she silently reaches into her mini purse and pulls out an envelope (pink, of course), addressed to one Mr. Blacklead. In cursive. Her frown quickly disappears however, as she hands me the envelope, winks at me, and sits down in an unoccupied spot. I hear a few nervous laughs from the other students, and I put my newly acquired envelope on my desk. I can now finally check off the missing name from the attendance sheet- Mira Double-Loveless Asphodel.

~~~

“Oh. I think I know where this is going,” mumbles Sally. “You keep talking about how ‘kids these days’ are crazy. Am I right to assume that there were multiple incidents like this?”

I didn’t expect that kind of reaction. Sally’s also a high school teacher, and she’s had her fair share of strange students. Clearly, she knows something about this whole situation that I don’t.

“Yeah, there were three more incidents after this. Anyways, what’s your deal? You obviously know something about this whole situation that I don’t.”

“Finish your story, and then I’ll explain a bit more about what’s going on. It’s important, but it’s not a matter of wife and death.”