Don't You
Chapter Three: Will You Recognize Me? Part Two
Allison fidgeted in her seat, staring up at the clock above the classroom door. There was another three minutes until the bell would ring and every second passed by slower than the next. Her stomach felt heavy and she was starting to get lightheaded. 'I could just take another route to class.' she thought. 'Then I wouldn't have to see him, or deal with the humiliation of having him ignore me... Not that anyone else would notice.' Her jaw twitched with nervousness. Trying to distract herself she glanced down at her notebook where there were only three lines of notes and not a single picture. Turning the pages back a bit she looked at the dozens of sketches and doodles she normally made while hiding in the back of the class.
"Well, that's it." She heard the teacher announce. "Congratulations on having successfully gotten through an entire lesson on time. Class will be over in a minute so just pack up your things and wait for the bell."
'A minute and 32 seconds.' She corrected silently. With a sigh she slid her book into her overly packed bag and leaned back. The rest of the students were already getting up and gathering by the door, eager to leave.
"Miss Reynolds." She looked up and stared at the teacher. "I got a call from Mr. Hashimoto. He wants you to go to his office at the end of the period." A few of the other students looked over at her and snickered. "I know you have class next period but he said it's illegal to take you out of lunch so often so you'll have to miss Chemistry today."
'What a disappointment.' She continued to stare for a few seconds, then nodded. The teacher, obviously disturbed by her silence, simply nodded back and broke eye contact as soon as possible.
Richard Hashimoto, the school guidance counselor, had an office at the back end of the school, meaning she wouldn't be passing by Andrew after all. For some reason the sinking feeling in her stomach grew even more at the prospect.
~~~~~
Andrew Clark stood in his usual spot, leaning against the railing of the stairs, while he waited for his friends. They all had gym together since they were on the same team, so they would meet up in the few minutes before hand to hang out. It was kind of pointless since by the time they were all there, they usually had to run down to the gym, but it had become a tradition. It was fun to walk in as part of a big pack that everyone knew would be coming. The other students would watch as the dozen or so guys walking in together, jumping around and messing with each other. It was a total disruption, but since their teacher was also the head coach for the wrestling team, they could get away with it no problem.
He smiled as two of his team mates walked up to join him.
"Andy, my man. How's is goin'?" One greeted with a high five. Andrew returned the gesture with a smile.
"Same old. Waiting for the coach to chew me out for missing practice over detention."
"That where you were? We were wondering why the star of the show didn't show up." Andrew laughed while his friends continued to tease him over the special treatment he got from the coach. A few more people showed up and joined them as they crowded around the stairwell. Andrew smiled along with their conversations but he wasn't really listening.
He was certain he'd seen Allison come down this hallway before and he was hoping he'd see her go by today. He still wasn't sure whether or not he'd be able to say hi and talk to her if she did come. Associating with a "freak" would be hard enough, but to do it with so many of his friends around would be career and social suicide. He hated to admit it but Claire was right.
"Yo Andy, we gotta hustle. Bell's about to ring." Andrew nodded and glanced down the nearly empty hallway one last time before heading down the stairs. They walked together down a small hallway that lead past the weight room to the gym. The only other doorway was at the end of the hall. It lead to the locker room but since most teachers took roll call in the gym before they changed, the door was kept locked.
They made their way into the gym, and as usual all eyes were on them. They were like an army of... Coolness. Andrew laughed at the thought, but it was true. He was part of the elite in Shermer High, and most of the student body looked up to him for that.
Most. He now knew that not everyone in the school was like that. There were a few that were happier to be themselves than to be popular or accepted by the masses. He wondered briefly if he could ever be like that, but the thought passed quickly as he caught the admiring glances of his peers. He had grown so accustomed to being looked up to, he wasn't sure what would happen if he lost that status. But he did want to change, if only a little. He wanted to think for himself.
~~~~~
Brian stood shakily outside his physics room door. He could hear Ms. Kralky going on with her lesson. He was scared, oh was he scared. He had gotten so caught up with John and his friends that he lost track of time and ended up running across the field to get to class.
'At least the rain dampened out the smoke' he thought, still not believing that someone like him would be worrying about being caught using drugs.
Taking one more deep breath he opened the door and tried to enter as discretely as possible. Unfortunately as soon as he had gotten in the room, his teacher looked up to greet him.
"Hello Brian. I missed you during last period. Were you doing more research for that project?" He nodded. He'd been working on a paper for extra credit, and as embarrassing as it was to admit to being such a "teacher's pet," he was happy that he wouldn't have to come up with an excuse on his own. "I can understand getting caught up in that but try not get get to class late again, okay?" She smiled cheerily and he nodded again, making his way to his seat. For once he hated the fact that he sat up front because he now had to walk in front of the entire class to get there.
Not far down the hall Bender stood leaning against the end of a line of lockers. He'd headed back to the building not long after Brian had taken off. He knew someone would come down the hall before long so he was better off going to him own class. Stopping off at his own locker he grabbed the latch and muttered. "Shit. Where the hell's my lock?"
Yanking it open he quickly went over the shelves to make sure nothing had been touched. Satisfied he grabbed his barely used text book and slammed the door shut. He automatically reached to replace the lock, then stopped himself. 'Man, whoever had the balls to grab my lock is in trouble.'
Once he had calmed down and gotten to his class he walked in without hesitation. The teacher glanced at him and sighed exasperatedly, knowing there wasn't much point in berating his deadbeat student. Bender brushed past the rows of students and stopped at the open seat furthest from the back. He grabbed the chair and pulled it back noisily, then plopped down, propping his foot on his desk. The teacher glanced at him again, then went on with the lesson.
He didn't hate school or learning, per say, but it was never easy for him. Even as a child his parents hadn't been very loving, and he couldn't remember either of them reading to him or helping him with homework. As he got older and strong enough to "make himself useful" his father would put him to work all day long, leaving no time to catch up with schoolwork. He started focusing only on subjects that interested him, so math, science and the arts were abandoned.
By the time he reached high school he'd given up on getting anything out of school and the thought of going to college was a joke. He didn't have the money for it and his father sure as hell wouldn't be paying. Now he just had to coast through two more years and he'd be done.
~~~~~
"So you turned to prostitution after you became addicted to heroine?"
Allison nodded with a lopsided grin, prompting a sigh from the school counselor.
"You don't expect me to believe any of this, do you? It's another story every week and I never know what to think. Why don't you try to be honest with me Allison?"
After a moment the young girl looked at him tearfully. "You're right. I have to be honest with you, and everyone else. And most importantly with myself." The counselor smiled proudly. "The truth is... It was the cocaine that I needed the money for. I started shooting up afterwards."
Sighing heavily, Mr. Hashimoto leaned back. "You know if you don't cut this out I'll tell authorities I believe you and you'll end up in an institution for troubled teens. Do you want that?"
Allison scratched her neck and turned away. She didn't want to be here and she hadn't done anything to deserve it, at least not recently, but she didn't want to get into any trouble either, so she sat silently until he spoke.
"Well, you think about that and we'll meet again next week. I have another student coming in in a few minutes."
Allison nodded and left quickly. After walking a few feet she stopped to lean against the wall. She wondered what he would say if she told him the truth about being neglected at home. Then he'd categorize her as another teen acting out in a cry for help. He'd give her the pre-rehearsed speeches he'd learned in college and then send her out the door. She had to admit it felt good to open up during detention, and she felt like they were the people she could talk to. Not some old man with a painted on smile and a degree on the wall. Kicking the back of her heel against the wall she pushed herself away from it and headed for the stairs. It was only the middle of fifth period but she didn't feel like catching the rest of her class.
Wandering the halls she turned down a corridor she hadn't needed to take before. It ran along past the back of the library, she realized, to a rusted door left partially ajar. Walking out she found herself under a large awning in what appeared to be an unused driveway. The air was chilled and she could hear water dripping along the side of the building. She was tempted to just walk home until she heard voices approaching. She jumped up and hid behind the door as two teachers walked by.
"Look at this, someone left the door open again." The teacher kicked it shut as he went through. Swinging her foot out Allison caught it before it clicked shut. She held her breath as the teachers stood two feet from her. All they had to do was turn around to find her outside and then she'd be in trouble. They walked a few feet farther and she inched forward, slowly opening the door. As she slipped back inside she caught sight of the two teachers kissing, the woman joking about their secret meeting place.
'Oh gross. I am never coming out here again.' She headed back down the corridor and up towards the lunchroom. The bell would be ringing soon and she had nowhere else to go in the meantime.
~~~~~
"So, you must be Brian Johnson." Mr. Hashimoto looked over the latest student to pass through his doors. A sophomore with "suicidal tendencies." He stood awkwardly in a pair of khaki pants and a navy blue sweater. If it weren't for the green and yellow Nike's, it would have looked like a school uniform.
"Come, sit." He smiled warmly. Brian obliged and sat uncomfortably in the chair across from the counselor he'd been ordered to speak to. The two sat silently for a while. Brain looked around the office, nodding his head and fiddling his thumbs.
"So, why are we here today Brian?"
"Umm.. I guess it's because of the flare gun."
"That's right. Now tell me, why did you bring the gun to school?"
Brian looked to the side and pursed his lips.
"Were you going to use the gun Brian?"
Silence.
"I can't help you if you don't help me to understand." There were tears in the students eyes. He just had to push a bit further. "Were you going to use it on yourself? Or on someone else?"
"I wasn't going to shoot anybody." Brian said with a sudden panic. It had never occurred to him that they might think he intended to harm other students or teachers.
"Then tell me..."
"I guess... I guess it was for myself. I was just frustrated and... I couldn't take it."
"What couldn't you take? What was frustrating you?"
"Grades I guess..."
"Are you having trouble in school? I looked at your transcript and it's all straight A's."
"Yeah, but not anymore."
"Why not?"
"I'm failing shop." It felt silly to say that now. Until Saturday it had been the worst thing to ever happen to him, but once he'd finally told someone, he saw the silliness of it all. That didn't mean he wasn't still upset or depressed by the prospect of losing his perfect school record though.
"Shop huh? You know I failed shop when I was in school."
Brian smiled weakly. He knew that Mr. Hashimoto didn't intend to make is sound like he'd wind up as a disrespected school counselor, but it certainly came out that way.
"So is that really all that's bothering you?"
Brian nodded, his eyes still red.
"Well, I understand the pressure to do well in school, but maybe it's not as bad as you think. Why don't you try telling someone else about this and see what they think. You may be surprised to find it's not such a big deal at all."
"Okay... Sure."
"Now, the bell is about to ring, so go ahead and get to class. I want to see you again next week all right?"
"Uh-huh"
"Good. And stay away from those flare guns. They're dangerous." He winked and Brian gave another weak smile, then grabbed his things and left. Mr. Hashimoto sighed and leaned back. After all his years of college, he was now pandering to smart alec kids, and when he was finally given something worth working with like suicide, it turns out to be some half hearted attempt. This kid didn't have the guts or real desire to hurt himself, or anyone else.
~~~~~
"Ick. My shoes are like sticking to the floor. It's so disgusting."
"I know." Claire agreed. "I hate the cafeteria." She and Kate were standing by the stairs at the back of the cafeteria, waiting for the bell to ring.
"So, we missed you at the party on Saturday."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, it was totally bitchin. There were no parents at all. Half the people didn't even go home. They were all passed out on the floors and stuff."
"Really? Were they all that drunk?"
"Only some of 'em. Ashley was totally plastered. She started making out with Jason when he was in the middle of eating."
"Oh gross." Claire gave a look of disgust as the bell rang. "Come on. If we don't run we'll be late for English, and you know how Ms. Farelli can be."
They took off up the stairs, making their way through droves of other students, many of which gladly stepped aside so they could pass.
"You know, when they make our schedules, they really should check to see if it's humanly possible to get to class on time." Claire complained.
"I know. Four minutes is so not enough time to go from the first floor on one end to the fourth floor on the other."
The bell ran as the ran down the fourth floor hallway. Reaching their class they both dashed in giggling, and sat down. The teacher shot them a sharp stare, but said nothing.
"As I was saying, today we'll continue reading from your text. I'm also handing out information for your final project."
There were a few murmurs in the class.
"Now calm down. This doesn't mean it's going to take you three months to finish, although for some of you it will..." A couple of students laughed while others grinned sheepishly. "...I'm just trying to help you all out. I know by May you'll be busy studying and writing papers, so I'm giving you the opportunity to do this one early."
"What is the project?" A student called out.
"We can go over it tomorrow, after you've all had a chance to read through the assignment. In the meantime, everyone should have their books out. I assume you finished chapter seven over the weekend as planned, so let's read through chapter eight, then discuss it."
Everyone groaned. Anytime a big assignment was announced, they wanted to know what it was, when it was due, and the easiest way to get an A. To make them wait was cruel. On top of that, it was never very enjoyable to have to read aloud in class.
"Craig. Why don't you begin?"
"Mommy's house was orchestrated chaos, and as the eighth of twelve children, I was lost in the sauce, so to speak..."
~~~~~
"All right boys. The game is five card draw, aces high, deuces wild. Who's in?"
A couple of students moved to join Bender in the back of the classroom. Their substitute teacher stammered from her place in front. "Young Man. Young Man, this is a classroom... You know you're responsible for this."
Bender flapped a piece of paper at her. "All I have to do is finish this, right? Doesn't say anything about having to listen to you." He grinned as she fumbled for words.
"What's your name?" She finally asked.
He quickly glanced around the room, then caught sight of one of his friends. "Cliff." Across the room Cliff stifled a laugh.
"Cliff what?" The teacher demanded.
"Cliff Turner."
"Well, Mr. Cliff Turner, I am writing a note to your teacher about this."
Bender laughed while Cliff panicked. "That's not fair!" He cried out. The teacher turned to him.
"What do you mean? I won't allow such behavior to go unpunished. Mr. Turner here obviously has no respect for myself or Mr. Hensen, and I think he deserves to know that."
Realizing he couldn't tell the truth, because he'd be in trouble for cooperating with Bender, Cliff changed gears. "What I mean is, I, John Bender, am a much more dastardly delinquent than Cliff over there." He pointed to Bender with a beaming smile.
The teacher stared perplexed at the now laughing class. Control had been lost, and she knew it. 'They don't pay me enough for this.' she thought, sitting down. "All right, I get it." She told them. "Just finish the assignment and hand it in, do whatever you want."
A few cheers arose and within minutes the crowd had reformed around Bender, who was dealing cards around the desks they'd pushed together.
This was where he was most comfortable, part of a crowd where he could act however he wanted to, and they'd respect him for it.
Oddly enough he found himself dealing to kids he'd normally ignore. It had become tradition for him to play cards when there was a sub, and many students knew that so there was usually a good crowd. He'd deal to his friends and ignore pretty much everyone else, leaving them to watch on their own. Now the group who was playing was more diverse.
He shrugged it off, truly believing he'd never followed the stereotype, but the feeling was there; that even if it was unintentional, he'd been an asshole to some people, simply for who they were.