Somebody behind me said, “A freak.”
It was Mike Hastings-I’d know his voice anywhere. I turned to him and when I did, the expressions of surprise that shifted across every face in that room were priceless. Everyone was rooted to my face, which was indeed smooth and actually had a hint of color to it. I looked better. Some might even consider me handsome. Many were staring at my hair, which had a kind of hip, curly vibe to it. I saw Alex in the back of the room, and his brows were knitted together, trying to figure me out.
“You think I’m a freak, Hastings?”
“Any guy who wears that amount of makeup to cover his zits is a freak, buddy. You didn’t look like that this morning. You looked like you always look-a frigging volcano ready to erupt. Who’d you get the makeup from? Your momma while she was passed out?”
“You're a class act, Mike.”
“And you're a friggin' drag queen.”
“If you think it’s makeup, come wipe it off me.”
“Why?” he said. “So you can get close enough to kiss me?”
Save for Alex and a few others, most in the room laughed.
“Why don’t you leave him alone?” Alex said.
But Hastings was having none of him this time. More interesting is that Mrs. Branson was allowing all of this to unfold.
“Why don’t you shut up? This doesn’t concern you.”
“Actually, he’s right,” I said. I turned to Mrs. Branson, who had a look on her face that suggested she was enjoying this. Her eyes were bright. She was biting her lower lip.
She didn’t know what was coming next.
“Isn’t it your job to make sure none of this goes on?” I asked her. “Isn’t it your job to keep order? Make peace? Keep us in line so we can do our work and do it well? Isn’t it your job to make sure people like me aren’t bullied? I’ve had you for a teacher for years and you never interfered when they pulled this crap on me or anyone else. Can you explain that to me?”
She was flustered, embarrassed.
'Explain it to me?'
'I owe you no explanation.'
'You owe me every explanation.'
'For what?'
'For standing there and doing nothing. For getting off on watching them take their repressed self-hatred out on me.'
She pointed toward the door. “Go to the principal’s office. Now.”
“For what?”
“Insolence.”
“That’s an impressive word, but I haven’t been insolent. I was just called a freak by one of the worst, most morally corrupt people in this school. You heard it and did nothing about it. So, I’ll go and see the principal and here’s why-I’m going to question your teaching, your lack of morals and ethics. I’m finally going to let them know exactly how you’ve behaved in these situations since I’ve been coming to your classes.” I snapped my fingers. “Time for the curtain to go up on your teaching career, Mrs. Branson.” I snapped my fingers again. “And then, when I’m finished, time for it to go down on it.”
“Holy shit,” someone behind me said.
Branson came around her desk. “Get out.”
“You’ve got it.”
I started to walk past her and when I did, she grabbed my arm. “No one in this class heard or saw anything you're claiming.” Her eyes swept the room. “Am I right, class?”
Immediately, the majority either nodded or said, “yes.”
But when I looked over at Alex, he was out of his seat, gathering his books and coming to the front of the class, where he towered above Branson. “If he goes, I go. I saw what happened here. I’m backing him with the truth. To stop us, you can do this: Send Hastings to the principal, apologize to Seth and set the record straight.”
“Two against twenty is a losing proposition,” she said.
I started to walk out the door. “We’ll see about that.”
Alex followed me and as he did, I was aware of someone else standing. It was Jennifer Sanford, one of the few people who never had picked on me and one of the few girls I’d had a crush on for years because of her kindness and let’s face it, because she was hot.
As always, she was seated in front. She never had been popular or unpopular, the former of which was surprising because she was one of the most attractive girls in school. Still, probably because she wasn’t a cheerleader and didn’t participate in sports, she was one of the in-betweens-a person who was allowed to exist without interference.
Plus, a lot of the guys wanted to screw her.
“And where are you going, Jennifer?” Branson asked.
“With them.”
“You better think twice about that.”
“Actually, you better think twice about this.” In her hand was her iPhone. She pressed a button, held it in front of Branson and turned up the sound.
She recorded everything on video.
In horror, Branson looked at herself on the screen. She heard Hastings call me a freak. She heard herself say, “No one in this class saw or heard anything. Am I right, class?” And she heard herself say to Alex, “Two against twenty is a losing proposition.”
Now, her face was the color of the chalk staining her finger tips.
“We’ll be in the principal’s office,” I said as I walked out of the room. “Thanks for sending me there. It’s time to get a few things off my chest.”
CHAPTER SIX
The three of us walked down the long hallway in silence, which was odd for a few reasons. First, I can’t remember a time when I walked with anyone in this school. It just didn’t happen. People weren’t seen with me.
This was about as strange as it got, but in a good way, especially since I found myself walking with Jennifer, who I’d always wanted to talk to but never really dared. As nice as she was, what would someone like her see in someone like me?
Second was the school itself-while classes were in session, it was weirdly quiet. For the new school year, the floors were freshly waxed and, from the block of windows at the far end of the hall, the sun caught the gleam and tossed back.
Jennifer was at my left. She reached out a hand to me, which I shook. “I’m Jennifer Sanford,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you, Seth.”
I felt a rush. I could feel my face turning red. I returned the greeting. “Thanks for video taping that.”
“I can’t stand her. When I saw that you were finally going to stick up for yourself-and how you were going about it, which was genius because you never lost your cool-I knew it wouldn’t go well. I just snapped on my phone, put it on the end of my desk and pointed it at her.”
“Isn’t your mother a lawyer?”
“She is.”
“Then you’ve got it in your blood. That was nothing but instinct.”
Alex was at my right. I looked up at him and saw that he was pissed. “You were great in there,” he said.
