DW's first day of seventh grade was very eventful. She'd nearly missed the bus because of her mother's late breakfast, and her reputation with the year's bus driver was likely beyond repair. Add in stickiness caused by crumbling toast, and her first day was not going well.
Grebe Middle School was different than DW thought it would be. None of her old friends from her earlier years were with her. Emily had moved to France with her parents, and the Tibble Twins, the source of torment for DW from preschool through third grade, were forced to move away when their grandmother died. The only face DW recognized anymore was James, but he rarely spoke to her.
"Welcome to seventh grade, DW," a familiar teacher smiled. DW smiled back, at least until she started brushing toast crumbs from her shirt. "Looks like you lost the battle with breakfast, dear," she smiled. "Your seat is in the fourth column on the third row, right next to Carl."
DW felt her heart sink. Carl had Asperger's syndrome and often had outbursts during class. While he'd improved since elementary school, many of the students didn't like having classes with him because he could be so loud and emotional. But DW had to sit by him, as did two others.
"Hey, hey, DW," he stuttered, extending a hand. His therapist was teaching him to be more friendly with others, but the handshaking thing had definitely gone overboard. DW ignored it, at least until he started squeezing his hand open and closed. After a few moments, he started making a loud noise.
"What's going on?" the teacher called into the room. Carl ran up to her. "Oh, it's okay. Come on, we'll go wash up," she smiled, leading him away.
"Nice going, Dora," a boy leered from behind her. DW turned to see Cheikh grinning to her. "Already making the stupid kid feel at home, huh?" he chuckled. His friends joined in, the nearest one brushing off her shoulder.
"You missed a spot, Dora," he grinned.
"He's not stupid, you know?" DW countered. Cheikh chuckled loudly. "What's so funny?"
"I think you're the stupid one, Dora, for taking up for him. You can't even clean up after breakfast, so what do you expect? Do you even own a mirror?" he jeered, causing even more laughter.
DW turned away. There was no fighting Cheikh and his friends. Since moving into her preschool class from Africa years ago, he'd become the class bully. It all started in second grade when he needed to get glasses. After that, he got tougher from people picking on him. When he became the top bully, the other bullies, namely the Tibble Twins, saw the error of their ways, but there was nothing to do to stop it. In fact, Tommy was his favorite victim until he left following his grandmother's death.
"Alright, class, let's begin. Cheikh, do you mind putting away your cell phone?" the teacher asked sternly, sighing quietly. She'd had the students last year during their sixth grade for history. Now she had a homeroom for seventh grade as well as history classes for sixth and seventh. Cheikh was one of her least favorite students. It was one thing to deal with unruly students or needy students, but devilish students? 'I do not get paid enough for this,' was a thought that ran through her head nearly every day.
"Miss Pennyworth, will we start social studies today?" a girl on the front row asked. DW recognized her as Vicita's old friend, Angela. Vicita and her family moved away just after their mother announced she was pregnant with Benji, but Vicita's friends still remained.
"Not today, Angela. You see, I'm your homeroom teacher. We'll handle any school business at the beginning of each day, as well as take attendance. Then you'll all move to…Mr. Tantro for pre-algebra," she said cheerily. The groans coming from the seventh graders was enough to make Carl cover his ears. "But, I will see you at the end of the day for US history," she smiled. No one reacted to that comment; learning they had math first was enough to throw them into shock.
"I wonder if egghead will be in the classes with us," Cheikh whispered to his friend, sending off enough giggles to alert the teacher.
"Is something funny, Cheikh?" she asked darkly. He shook his head with an angelic grin on his face, though it came out more devilish than angelic. "Well, we only have a few more minutes until the bell. The seating chart will be different for your social studies class, but this is where you'll sit during homeroom. Is everyone clear?"
"Miss Pennyworth?" Carl called loudly, raising his hand.
"Yes, Carl?"
"Can I stay here for social studies? I like this seat," he asked. Miss Pennyworth smiled.
"I'll see what I can do about that, Carl," she nodded. "Is anyone else happy with their seat?" she asked. Cheikh's hand was one of the first to raise. He was on the back row, meaning he had a clear path to nearly anyone he'd want to torment. "Well, I'll see what I can do," she said, making a note as the bell rang overhead. "Mr. Tantro's room is to your right and down two doors. Take all of your things; you won't be back until this afternoon."
The class left the room like a stampede. DW was one of the last ones out of the room. She was not happy with her day so far, and she knew it wasn't going to get any better.