Part One
The bell rang. It was louder than it was last year, and made most of the sophomores flinch. Those memories of the first day of high school were still with them, evidently. Ms. Adele Hunter smirked. Sophomores were always the most interesting to teach and the most fun to freak out. It was the same in every school, and she doubted it would be different in her new place of employment, Forks High School.
Her class was tough, more difficult than the other two original AP Government classes. Her students last year at Belleview High made no attempt to hide their literal joy when the final was over and they could leave her class forever; the sighs of absolute relief when the test was completed were even louder than the stifled groans that were uttered when she explained how her class worked the first day of last year.
Ms. Hunter looked at the students around her. Some were already in their seats, pencils out and sharpened with the summer homework on their desks; she felt a stirring of annoyance at these overachievers—more than half the time, the ones who didn't try so hard at impressing her did the best, like the ones standing by the window. They obviously had heard the bell, but had taken no notice of it and continued their juvenile conversations of who did what during the summer and with whom as they texted friends in different classes. She smiled, knowing what she would do to make them sit down—this was one of her favorite things to do to a class of sophomores.
Grabbing one of the thousand page books that were sitting in the corner waiting to be distributed to the students, she walked over to the oblivious group. When they didn't take notice of her arrival, she lifted up the book and dropped it.
The kids jumped, dropping their cell phones on the floor as the boom resonanated around the room. While they were trying to figure out what had happened, she knelt down and collected the illegal devices, to the tune of unheard excuses. Without saying a word she walked over to her desk and put them in one of the drawers, ripping off a couple detention sheets.
The entire class was quiet as they watched her, the tension rising in the large classroom.
"I would hope that some of you would remember the little rule about cellular phones in school. I would also hope that those in question of violating this rule just did not care about it, rather than forget it altogether." Ms. Hunter stared down a student as she said this, feeling a bit victorious as the boy looked down. "If the latter applies to you, I would suggest walking out of my class immediately. Otherwise, there is no doubt in my mind that you will fail this class."
"Any takers?" She asked. When no one responded, she turned around and grabbed the attendance sheet. "Then sit. "
The unanimous screech of chairs told her she had already "broken in" this class already.
As she called role, she noted that one student was missing. This was one of her pet peeves; attendance was key to passing this class and the one rule that had been listed on the summer homework.
"Does anyone know where Edward Cullen is?" she asked. Apparently her annoyance was visible, as some students shrunk back, away from her. No one answered.
"Listen, boys and girls, when I ask a question, I expect for it to be answered. You wouldn't want to get on my bad side this early in the year, would you?"
Muffled snickers erupted when a tall boy sitting in the back of the class murmured the inevitable words, "I didn't know she had a good side."
Ms. Hunter was waiting for someone to say words along those lines. It happened every year; some smart alec kid would decide that they were going to try to be funny. But this was a good chance to show these darling children what happened to people that misbehaved in her class.
She walked slowly over to his desk in the back, the snickers abruptly vanishing when the students that they belonged to saw her face. He was slouched in his chair, arms tucked behind his head.
"Mr. McCarthy, I hope you don't have plans for the next two weeks." She said, her voice clipped. When he opened his mouth to tell her that he did indeed have things going on, she continued. "It doesn't matter if you do, though. I was just being polite."
Signing the detention slips, she handed them to him. "One for your cell phone activity, one for your insubordination. No complaints."
"Does anyone else want to join him?" she asked. "No? At least you imbeciles can figure that out." She looked every last one of her new students in the eye. Before she could turn around, the class burst out in laughter, looking at the open door.
A boy stumbled in, disheveled to the point of hilarity, his dirty fingers clutched around a bottle of what looked like alcohol. He brought with him the stench of unwashed body and beer, along with a delightful hint of marijuana.
His eyes glassy, he slurred, "Am I late for class?" He grinned and promptly fell down, spilling the contents of the brown bottle on the new carpet.
"How nice of you to join us, Mr. Cullen." Ms. Hunter said, her voice laden with undisguised disgust. She made no move to inspect the blatantly drunken teen.
The tenth graders leaned forward in their seats to stare at their fallen classmate, and then recoiled as Edward began violently vomiting. Taking no notice of the revolting puddle of liquid on the floor, Ms. Hunter walked over to him and lifted up her heeled foot to nudge him. But before her foot made contact, the boy let out a strangled cry and jerked away.
Ms. Hunter heard the class laugh and watched as the teen, even though his intoxicated stupor, turned bright red. She looked him in the eye as he expelled the last of the mysterious gunk in his stomach, moaning softly.
His green eyes pleaded with her for help, even through the watery cover that now surrounded them. The fifteen-year-old choked back a drunken sob as she turned away, his face still burning with embarrassment as the roar of laughter grew.
"Unless you want clean-up duty, I would kindly suggest that you all shut up." The room grew quiet, although giggles still came from some of the girls, especially the pretty blonde one in the back sitting by Emmett McCarthy. "All of you go to the cafeteria and do the vocabulary words and the questions at the end of chapters 1-5. Anything that's left is homework."
A scrawny-looking boy raised his hand. Looking down at her attendance pictures, she asked, exasperated, "What, Mr. Newton?"
"You didn't explain the class, Ms. Hunter. I have specific questions…" Mike trailed off at the end when he saw his teacher's expression.
Clenching her jaw, she just pointed at the door. She knew she, even in her designer suit and heels, could be an intimidating woman, and it was definitively used to the best of her advantage.
The students filed out after grabbing a book, none looking back except for a girl with brown hair, who looked like she was about to say something but apparently had decided it was too risky. She stared at the incapitated teen on the floor with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity on her face.
"Bella, I do believe I asked you to leave." The teacher said, her voice softening just a bit at the only person who seemed to care in even the least bit about Edward.
"I know." Bella said softly, looking down. With one last glance at her fellow student, she went out the door, hurrying to catch up with the group of kids who were undoubtedly discussing their fellow classmate's behavior.
"Why do you boys do this to yourselves?" she murmured as she looked back down at Edward, who had curled up on his side. His eyes were closed, and she could barely hear the words that came out of his mouth.
"Fuck you." He said softly, and turned his head away from her.
Ms. Hunter was silent for a moment. Then she walked around to the other side of Edward and crouched down, looking him in the eyes.
"You do not use foul language in my classroom. Ever." She said, her anger evident in her voice. "Would you say that to your mother?"
Edward smirked. "Sure would, if I felt like going down to the cemetery. And if I did go, I'd probably say a lot more. The bitch deserves it."
Ms. Hunter pursed her lips for a moment and just stared at her drunken student. Then, taking a deep breath, she stood up. Then she grabbed the arm of Edward's that wasn't covered in vomit, and pulled him up easily. Too easily. The boy was thin for his age, probably because his diet most likely consisted of beer and an occasional greasy fast food meal.
He swayed and looked like he was either going to fall down again, throw up some more, or punch his teacher in the face. His legs apparently decided for him, as they gave out under him and he slid down towards the floor. Ms. Hunter let him go.
"I know you are not totally incapacitated, Edward. Stop pretending like you can't walk and get up by yourself. Or you can wait here while I summon the janitor and maybe a reporter from the school newspaper while I'm at it. I'm quite sure your picture would look smashing on the front page." She knew that the threat of even more embarrassment would persuade the intoxicated teen to get up.
Sure enough, Edward frantically struggled to his feet, but then collapsed again. He was breathing hard, his chest constricting like he was trying to contain sobs as his breath became raspy.
"For god's sake, Edward, I was joking about the picture! Stop your idiotic convulsing and just get up!" Ms. Hunter sounded a bit frantic herself. Obviously, there was something else to Edward's problem than just being a stoner and coming to school drunk.
At his teacher's words, Edward visibly relaxed, although he still clenched his lips tightly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, as Edward got himself under control.
"You do know that you'll be suspended for this, Edward. And addiction counseling. It's school policy." Ms. Hunter was surprised when his head shot up at the word "counseling".
He growled. "I don't need to go to any therapy." He said. "I'm perfectly fine." He scowled as his teacher grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door.
Turning around, Ms. Hunter said, "I beg to differ. But that's something you and your therapist can talk about, one on one."
Apparently the thought of his figurative spilling of his guts was enough for the literal version to occur. Edward stumbled, and then retched. Right onto Ms. Hunter's brand new jacket and shoes.
Weren't first days of school fun.