David had had a… rough day, to say the least. It's only been a month into the semester, and he already had a handful of troublemakers making his classroom their permanent lunchroom. Throwing trash, drawing on the whiteboard in permanent marker, writing profanities that David hadn't even heard of in their textbooks, and, of course, regular outbursts have caused him to become… pretty drained.
Honestly, it was even worse than Max and his infamous troop back at Camp, at least they were clever with their schemes. These kids, despite being several years older than his former campers, weren't even creative. Another day, another crude drawing of genitalia to wipe off the board. Or a desk. Or erase from a book.
David sighs, drawing his eyes across the four students sitting in each corner of the room. He'll have to call their parents, which he never looked forward to. He writes himself a note and slips it into his back pocket, reminding himself for later. Those calls rarely ended well. He'll have to call sometime next week, for sure.
Checking the clock, his smile brightens.
"Okay kiddos, lunch detention's up. You've got three minutes to dump your trays. Jasmine, make sure you're on time, alright? I've got a fun lab planned!"
The curly-haired girl scoffs, dumping her full lunch tray into the tiny trash bin next to David's desk. His smile falters.
"Whatever, Greenwood. I'll be here."
"Um- okay then! Stay out of trouble, guys!" David waves meekly at the disgruntled students, and then stands up from his desk to pull out some of the lab equipment he'll be using for his demonstration today, placing them on the black lab table at the front of the room. It's simple, a lab involving burning different substances to create different colored flames, but as he gets out the materials, his mind wanders elsewhere.
He was worried, about a number of things. Camp has been on his mind for a few days, and with it came fond memories of his latest campers and, well, David swore up and down that he didn't play favorites, but Max specifically. He hoped he was getting on fine back at home, since the whole Parent's Day fiasco brought up a slew of red flags that had Gwen walking him through another lengthy crying session that evening. Come to think of it, he should send her a message to see how she's doing.
He smiles as the bell rings and the halls echo with footsteps again. He's heading up to Camp this weekend, anyway. Maybe a nice breather will do him some good and calm his worries. After all, Max's parents had picked him up, despite the kid vehemently betting on them not doing so, so they did care some, at least. He was probably fine, likely at his own school causing his own brand of creative mischief at this very moment.
As the first few kids file into the classroom, David smiles down at the materials and hands out safety goggles to the students. At least the inclusion of fire will keep everyone entertained for most of the period, although they're going to be pretty disappointed once he pulls out the connected assignment.
After a bit, the bell rings, and David beams at the full classroom.
"Alright everybody, I know you're excited it's Friday, so I have a particularly hot demonstration planned for today!"
TTTTTTTT
David walks through the camp gates with a little more skip in his step than usual, excited to take a little break from the monotony of grading papers and urban living. He breathes in deeply, almost trying to absorb the smell of the pines and the lake into his very bones.
"I really don't know how anyone can't enjoy this." He mutters to himself.
The mess hall comes into view first, but David walks past it to drop his bag off in the counselor's cabin. He unlocks the door and enters, pulling his bandana (a self-proclaimed necessity while camping) over his face to avoid the cloud of dust falling from the disturbed room.
He opens all the windows, clearing out the stagnant air.
Gonna let that air out for a bit. I should probably check if any of our stores went rotten in the meantime.
David leaves the counselor's cabin, brushing dust off of himself, and fiddles with his keys, finding the one for the mess hall.
Except… he pulls on the door handle, finding it unlocked. He rolls his eyes and holds in a sigh.
It's those homeless folks again. He thinks, clipping his keys onto his belt. I always hate kicking them out. I'll have to add 'replace locks' to the maintenance list.
David opens the door to the mess hall and steps in, pausing for a moment to hear any signs of intruders. He strains his ears against the rustling leaves outside, waiting for movement.
He takes a few more cautious steps forward, closing the door behind him with a barely audible click. Scanning the room, he does notice some open cabinets and used dishware through the serving window, so someone has definitely been squatting here and using the little resources left behind for themselves. David frowns, becoming depressed at the idea of someone having to live like this.
A faint noise echoes out from the pantry, and David freezes. Someone's still here, and by the sound of it, hasn't heard him yet. He hesitates, but walks forward.
"Hello? Someone here?"
The noises stop, but David doesn't give them a chance to run for it. He makes for the pantry door, hoping they haven't barricaded themselves in again. He didn't really want to have to call the police.
"I know you fellas are in a rough spot, but this is private property," Happy to find the door unblocked, he enters the small room carefully. "I'm going to have to ask you to…"
A familiar mop of black, curly hair and a blue hoodie greet David, and his jaw drops. The intruder turns, stopping his attempt to reach the attic ladder, and pales.
"Shit."