Chapter 2: The Sweater

Suggested Track: Titanium- David Guetta and Sia

The entire room was silent as the ghostly teacher hovered around, a navy blue sweater clenched in her fist.

"Who's sweater is this?" Mrs. Haunter asked, her eerie eyes scanning the classroom full of first graders. "Who's? It's been on the coat rack for a few months."

Nobody spoke. The sweater was very old and even if it belonged to any of the children they wouldn't say so. Mrs. Haunter was getting very irritated with the silence, and she said in a louder voice, "It has to belong to somebody!"

A hand rose up from the second row, and Mrs. Haunter asked, "Is it yours, Aqua?"

Aqua, the girl who had raised her hand, was a blonde, pale skinned petite girl with gray-blue eyes. She folded her hands on her desk, her pink lips stretching into a thin smile.

"It's not mine, Mrs. Haunter. I think it belongs to Icer."

Heads turned to the boy in the front row, who looked around in surprise. Icer's mouth opened as if to speak, but nothing came out.

There was a pause, and Mrs. Haunter said simply, "Oh, yes. I see." She floated to the boy and placed the sweater on his desk.

"I'm not…that's not…not mine!" Icer finally squeaked out in a small voice.

"Of course it's yours," Mrs. Haunter turned away and went to the chalkboard. "You wore it once, I remember."

As Mrs. Haunter continued with the lesson, Icer scowled down at the little blue mountain of yarn on his desk. It was a hideous sweater; the buttons looked centuries old and the sleeves were so long one could play jump rope with them. While Mrs. Haunter focused on adding and subtracting numbers, Icer picked up his ruler and cautiously pushed the horrible sweater to the edge of his desk. He then picked up his pencils, his eraser and his favorite pen and brought them all closer to him.

It was very close to the end of the day, and Icer was silently wishing the clock's hands would move faster. It was Friday, and he knew that tonight was a special night. His parents would take him out to dinner to see their friends, and Icer would see his own best friend, Valentina. She was in his classroom, but she always sat way in the back with her head on the desk. They never played with each other at school, because when they did, everyone said they were boyfriend and girlfriend, and that made Icer mad.

"Icer!" Mrs. Haunter snapped, yanking the poor youngster out of his thoughts. "The bell's going to ring in a few minutes, and I want you to put on that sweater right now. No nonsense!"

Icer looked at Mrs. Haunter, then down at the sweater hanging off the desk like a dark water fall, and then back at his teacher. "It's not mine, Mrs. Haunter-!"

"NOW! "

His little, clawed fingers trembling, Icer grabbed the sweater, slipping his arm through the sleeve and making a face. It smelled like the gel his mother put on his chest when he was sick, but a lot worse. He put his arm through the other sleeve, and hot tears began to blur his vision.

The bell rang, and all the students began to pick up their things, all except for Icer, who sat there with his arms outstretched like the sweater hurt him. Mrs. Haunter saw this and rolled her eyes.

"Icer, I don't care if you hate the sweater. I just need you out of this room because I'm having a meeting with a parent!"

Valentina walked up with book bag in hand, and she used her free hand to pat Icer's shoulder. "You can take it off when you get outside," she assured kindly.

Icer nodded, gathering up his things and shoving them in his bag. As he started to walk out the door, he was surprised to see his father standing right outside in the hallway.

"Hey, buddy," Heath smiled, putting his phone in his pocket. "How was scho…." He trailed off, quirking an eyebrow at what his little boy was wearing. "Why are you wearing a girl's sweater?"

Upon hearing this, Icer promptly burst into tears, covering his face and sobbing uncontrollably. Heath's eyes widened in panic. "What?! What's wrong?"

"Mrs. Haunter made him wear it," Valentina explained in her quiet voice.

Heath sighed, bending down and removing the sweater with a grimace. "Wow, this thing's ugly!" laying the sweater on the ground, he picked up his son and held the sniffling boy close, rubbing his back to comfort him. "Hey, it's okay. You're not wearing it anymore, it's all right." Icer's sobs simmered down to a series of little squeaks, and he dried his tears on his dad's shoulder. Heath kissed his cheek, asking, "Wanna talk to Mrs. Haunter about it?" Icer nodded, sniffling. Heath balanced Icer in one arm and picked up the sweater with his free hand, turning to walk into the classroom. But before he did, he looked down at Valentina. "Is your mom coming, Valentina?"

Valentina shook her head, her little wolf ears twitching. "Nope. Daddy's coming today." She looked out the window, seeing Valentine standing outside. She smiled at him, and went out the door to meet him. Heath watched for a moment as Valentine took his little girl's hand and led her away to their car.

Heath entered the classroom ready to spring on Mrs. Haunter for making his son feel so terrible, but grumbled in annoyance when he saw her talking to Toralei Stripe and her son, Tigerclaw.

"So, you see, Miss Stripe," Mrs. Haunter showed the werecat a few completed worksheets of Tigerclaw's. "As you can see, your son is clearly colorblind. This worksheet's directions clearly stated to use all the rainbow's colors, yet he only used red and black."

Toralei looked over the paper with uninterested eyes, and turned to Tigerclaw. "Why are you only using two crayons?"

"Because Will Harding called me ugly and took my other crayons," Tigerclaw said innocently.

Toralei shoved the paper back in Mrs. Haunter's hand and stalked off, scooping Tigerclaw up. "There ya go. I'll buy him more crayons, and you tell that damn Will Harding to leave my kid alone!" and with that, she left.

Mrs. Haunter turned her attention to Heath, and she looked at the dangling sweater and the tearful child in alarm. "Is something the matter, Mr. Burns?"

"Yes!" Heath shoved the sweater in the teacher's face. "You made my son wear this!?"

Mrs. Haunter was confused. "It's not his?"

Heath's jaw dropped in disbelief. "You actually think I would make my son wear this!?"

"What's going on?" Iris Clops, now the child psychologist of the school, poked her head in the room with a puzzled look on her face. Her eye caught the sweater, and she walked in and took it from Heath. "Why do you have my sweater?"

Mrs. Haunter went speechless, and Icer squealed out, "Teacher made me wear it!" and hid his face in Heath's neck.

Iris stared at Mrs. Haunter for a few moments, and then walked out of the room.

Heath and Icer arrived back home minutes later, and Abbey came to greet them.

"How was school, mal'chik?" Abbey smiled, picking her son up giving him a nuzzle on the cheek.

Icer nuzzled her back, saying, "The fat lunch lady ripped her pants, and Mrs. Haunter made me wear a girl's sweater!"

Abbey rolled her eyes. "That Mrs. Haunter full of stupid. She may be teacher, but not always smart."

They went inside, and Icer clapped his hands together. "Are we still going out to eat with our friends at the restaurant?"

Heath nodded, putting his keys on the counter. "Yep. This time, you and Valentina shouldn't run off and go to the bar area like last time."

"I promise, we won't," he stated sincerely. "We'll play with the jukebox and that's it."

Heath nodded. "Okay, good."

Merida walked in, and she bent down and kissed Icer's head. "How's my boy? How was school today?"

"It was good, grandma!" Icer gave her a hug, and went to the living room to watch television.

Merida waited until he left, then began to speak to Heath. "Your friend Jackson called about your event tonight. He said that he met a strange girl at the hospital today."

Heath raised an eyebrow. "Strange?"

"She never said a word," Merida explained. "Somebody brought her in last night."

"Why did Jackson tell you this?"

"I'm not sure," Merida admitted. "He said he'd explain more tonight."

Heath shrugged. "Okay, then. We leave at 6:30?"

"Yes,"

"Are you coming, mom?"

Merida shook her head. "No, there's a special on TV about Mormons, and I intend to watch it."

Icer suddenly called from the living room, "Daddy, I can't find the remote!"

Heath walked into the living room and bent down, reaching into the crevice of the couch and pulling out the small device. "Here, bud."

Icer smiled, changing the channel to some cartoons and slurping his chocolate milk through a straw. Heath sat beside him, putting an arm around him and just watching him. Icer looked up at his father, pouting and shoving a napkin in his face.

"Stop lookin' at me!"

Heath laughed, running his hand through his son's hair and leaving the room.