Peyton looked around. It had been years since she had set foot in a classroom and she never thought she's be in her own. It was small and cramped but it would have to do. Monday through Friday from eight to one thirty, she was Mrs. Jagielski, master of the arts.

"You all set?" Haley popped her head in.

Peyton smiled.

"Actually, yeah. Um, I was looking over the curriculum Dr. Adams left for me and it's…well, it's actually kind of stupid. I just don't think the kids would be interested. So today I was gonna talk to them a little about me and my experiences and then give them a basic rundown of art and the different components like sketching and shadowing, abstracts, water colors, everything…"

"Sounds good."

"Only one thing. Where are the supplies? I have a stack of recycled paper, one easel on its last leg and a bunch of old paint brushes that have definitely seen better days. What gives? Where's the rest of the stuff?"

"Sorry", Haley shrugged. "You're probably looking at it. The school board ran into a bit of a budgeting problem this year."

"Can't we just order more stuff?"

"There's no money."

"But how am I supposed to teach kids without supplies? That doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't", Haley sadly agreed.

"How do you teach your math classes?"

"At first I was Xeroxing my lesson plans because there weren't enough books and I was telling Nathan about it and he made a donation for the supplies on behalf of the team. If he hadn't, I don't know what I would have done."

Peyton nodded.

"Okay. Is there like a store room or something I could rummage through? Maybe I can salvage a few things until I figure out Plan B."

"Downstairs in the basement."

Peyton went down to the messy and cluttered closet searching for paper, pens and anything else remotely usable for her class. It was slim pickings but she found enough paper and sketch pencils that would last at least a couple of days. On her way up, hands full, the bell rang. She cursed out loud. How did it look for the teacher to be late on her first day?

Picking up the pace, she returned to a room that was full. It was a freshman class and there were teenagers everywhere. They were certainly a rowdy bunch, she thought to herself and her presence headed to the teacher's desk didn't seem to phase them. They kept loudly talking and laughing, walking around, throwing spitballs and some wrestling. She stood, hoping that would garner their attention but no such luck. Finally, she cleared her throat.

"Hey, guys. Settle down. Can I have your attention for a minute, please?"

"Hell no", one boy yelled while the others laughed.

She turned to the chalk board and scrawled her name across it.

"I'm Mrs. Jagielski and I'm your new art teacher."

Peyton smiled as soon as she uttered the words. It sounded so…teacher like. So unlike her.

"Who gives a shit?" a random girl said.

"Okay then", Peyton rubbed her temple. "Thanks for the warm welcome. Now I guess it's my turn. I'm going to do roll call so just say 'here' of you're here."

Peyton fumbled for the roster.

"What the hell kind of name is Jagielski?" another boy asked.

"It's my husband's name."

"You married to a Pollock? Like on that Archie Bunker show?"

The class erupted into laughter. Peyton could fill her patience wearing thin.

"Alright. That's enough, guys. This is an art class that you signed up for that I was hired to teach. How are you supposed to learn anything if you keep disrupting?"

"Whatever…"

"Whatever? Fine. You don't like it? You can get out."

"What?"

"That's right", Peyton said. "Anyone who doesn't want to learn is welcome to leave. If you don't want to be here, I don't want you here."

"No, lady. We don't want you here."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard us. We don't need no hippie white woman with bad hair coming in here trying to teach us to draw or tell us what to do."

The boy who had said that folded his arms emphatically. Peyton was half way seething and half way in shock.

"What's your name?" she tried to ask calmly.

"Jamal."

"Okay, Jamal. You can go to Dr. Adams' office now."

"Oooooooo", the class echoed in delight.

"I ain't going nowhere. You go to Dr. Adams' office. And when you do, tell him I said hi."

He put an exclamation point on it by balling up a piece of paper and chucking it at Peyton's head. It missed her eye by an inch.

That was it. Peyton had had it. She had lasted all of ten minutes and she was furious. She was mad at herself and at the students and especially Haley. Damn that Haley! Where was she? Peyton fumed and stormed out to a round of thundering applause. She marched down to Haley's classroom and banged on the door. Excusing herself, Haley hurried to greet her, closing the door behind her.

"Everything okay?"

Peyton laughed bitterly in spite of herself and the situation.

"Everything okay?" she repeated. "Okay? Are you nuts? Hell, no it's not okay!"

"Peyton, calm down…"

"No!"

"Just listen…"

"You set me up."

"I did not."

"The hell you didn't. When were you and Dr. Adams gonna tell me that I signed up to teach the inner city version of Children of the Corn?"

"They're not that bad…"

"Oh yes they are. They are 'that bad' and worse. Dammitt, Haley! All we're missing is Michelle Pfeiffer and a Coolio soundtrack."

"Peyton…"

"I'm out of here, dude."

Haley grabbed her arm.

"No. Wait. Please don't go."

Peyton was still furious.

"I don't need this. Give me one reason why I should stay."

"You said you wanted a challenge."

"Challenge? Yes. Being called a Pollock and having things thrown at me? No. I'll pass, thank you very much."

"Okay. Look, I know it seems bad now. My first day, I was terrified. But you get used to it. They're good kids, Pey. And they're smart. They want to learn but they put all these defense mechanisms up. They feel like they have to show off or be hard. It's just a façade."

"Haley…"

"All they need is a chance. They need someone to take a chance on them and I promise you, if you do, if you break through, you guys can do great things together. Peyton, you're a talented artist. They have talent, too. They just don't have anyone to guide them. They're poor kids mostly from broken homes who live in a world where hustling and drugs and crime are the norm. You know the statistics. You watch the TV and read the paper like everyone else. But it doesn't have to be that way. All they need is for someone, anyone to show them another way."

Peyton rolled her eyes.

"Listen. That 'We Are The World' shit is really cute but open your eyes, Haley. These kids don't want to learn. How am I supposed to get through to them?"

Haley smiled.

"What did Michelle do in that movie? You have to get their attention."

Peyton shook her head.

"I can't. Look, there is no way this is gonna work out…"

"How do you know? You tried it for ten minutes."

"Nine minutes and 55 seconds too long."

"So you're just gonna quit?"

"I can't do this, Haley."

Haley shook her head.

"I should have known. Running away again. That's what you do best. I was stupid to think you changed. When the going gets tough…"

"I'm sorry, Haley."

"Yeah", the auburn haired woman said as she returned to her class. "Not half as sorry as I am."