chapter summary: the printer incident, part ii

chapter title from next to normal

tw: bullying

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After the printer incident, what few friends—or rather, acquaintances—that Connor had at school virtually deserted him. On his first day back after suspension, he was met with stares and excited chatter as he walked through the school gates.

His cheeks flamed as one boy asked, "Are you going to throw the printer again, Murphy?" as he got his things from his locker.

"Go away," Connor muttered sullenly, slamming the locker door shut.

"And what if I don't?" he sneered. "You'll throw a printer at me?"

"I said go away!" Connor glared, shoving past him angrily and storming into the classroom, dumping his bag under his chair. He put his head down on the table and ignored everyone until the teacher came in.

At the next class, Mrs. G didn't seem happy at all that he was back, and Connor himself was feeling worse every passing minute. Recess, which he had always looked forward to, was absolute misery. All the children avoided him, as though he were some kind of dangerous animal that might attack them. He heard the word "printer" tossed around multiple times, and the children giggled behind his back while keeping their distance.

The last straw came when he was waiting for his turn on the slide, and the girl in front of him nearly fell over herself scrambling down the slide as her sister hollered, "Be careful, Connor might push you off!"

Connor had stalked back into the main school building and sat in the classroom until recess was over, not feeling like he wanted to play or eat his lunch anymore.

Naturally, word had been going around the school, and it wasn't too long before Samuel Harris heard about it, too. They weren't in the same grade, so they only saw each other in the hallways every now and then, but when Connor hung out with his family at the Harris' house, Samuel seemed to delight in teasing him about it. Fortunately, the last time it happened, Zoe had yelled at him to "shut up or I'll tell your parents that you're being mean again" and he'd ignored Connor for the rest of the night.

Connor started hanging out with Luke more and more. Luke was the only person who didn't seem to change perceptions about him. He had told Luke about what had happened, but Luke simply shrugged and said, "It's okay, you just got angry. I know you didn't mean it. Anyway, your teacher doesn't sound very nice." And he'd gone back to playing with their collection of matchbox cars. Connor couldn't have agreed more with him. He felt that maybe Luke understood him.

He knew that Luke was bullied at his school, too, except it was because he was a dancer.

"Don't tell people that you dance," Luke had warned him sadly. "Especially not ballet. Everyone'll call you gay. Or girly." And Connor had taken his advice. He'd seen Luke come to dance class with a bruise on his cheek after a bigger boy had pushed him into the lockers.

Mrs. Shapiro had noticed too, and after class they saw her talking with Mrs. Davidson, both women's expressions serious.

A few weeks later, Luke was at Connor's house, the two boys throwing a Frisbee back and forth in the backyard. Out of the blue, Luke mentioned, "Did you know that my mom is going to homeschool me?"

"Homeschool? What's that?" Connor asked as Skywalker snatched the Frisbee out of his hand and bounded off. "Skye, give that back!" She whined reluctantly and dropped it at his feet. He tossed it back towards Luke.

"She's going to teach me at home," Luke explained, catching the Frisbee. "So I don't have to go to school anymore, because I keep getting bullied. And Mrs. Shapiro said that it would also give me more time to focus on dance."

"You're so lucky!" Connor exclaimed, feeling a slight twinge of jealousy. "I wish my mom would homeschool me. I hate school."

"You should ask her," Luke said matter-of-factly.

"I guess," he shrugged, "Maybe later. Do you want to play with my remote-controlled cars?"

"Sure! I bet I'm faster!"

"Bet you aren't!"

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"Mom, can you homeschool me?" Connor asked Cynthia later that afternoon.

"What makes you ask that, Connor?" she asked in surprise, looking up from a recipe she had been reading.

"Because Luke's mom started homeschooling him and he says he likes it much more than going to school."

Cynthia's brows were knit together in thought and she put her cookbook down on the table before cautiously replying, "Connor, homeschooling isn't for everyone. It's a very big decision, especially for the parents, and maybe Mrs. Davidson is capable of teaching Luke. But I'm not, Connor… I'm not a teacher or anything like that. Also, he's planning to be a dancer, so this will fit his schedule better than yours, and it'll give him the flexibility to train. You're not becoming a dancer, so the situation is slightly different."

Connor wanted to say that he, too, wanted to be a dancer, but instead he said, "The kids at school are mean to me. I don't want to go to school anymore."

Her expression softened. "Oh honey, is it because of the printer incident?" He nodded glumly. "Don't worry, I promise they'll forget about it by the time the school year ends, maybe even sooner. Kids forget things quickly. You're going to be fine, okay?" She patted his cheek and he turned away so that she wouldn't see his dejection.

Of course she wouldn't homeschool him. He would probably do something bad again when he got angry, just like the printer incident, and then he would ruin the entire homeschooling process. Luke could get homeschooled because he did everything well, and he was the kind of boy all teachers liked.

Unlike him.

And despite Cynthia's reassurance that the issues at school would improve, they, of course, did not. Even on the last day of the school year, he was still being called "printer boy" and nobody wanted to play with him on the playground or sit next to him during lunchtime. It took all the self-control and willpower that he had not to cry or lash out in front of them, because he knew that it would only make everything worse for himself.

Mrs. G seemed to prefer to treat him as if he didn't exist—she didn't call on him in class, even if he was one of the only kids who raised his hand. As he had predicted, she never made him line leader either. It stung, and although she wasn't actively picking on him like some of his classmates did, it sometimes felt nearly as hurtful as the taunts and pushes that were thrown his way. He wasn't sure why, but maybe it was because it made him feel invisible, and like no one actually cared about him.

He kept trying not to cry about it at home, because Larry didn't like it, and it hurt Zoe and Cynthia to know that he was sad, but sometimes the pain was just too much. There were days when he came home from school in tears, as Zoe angrily complained to their parents about how mean his classmates had been. Cynthia would hug him, and then Zoe would try to distract him by asking him to play with her, while Larry would remind him that "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never break me". It sounded nice to Connor at first, but it didn't really help.

Sometimes he felt that maybe a broken bone would be less painful.

Even Mrs. Shapiro began to notice the shift in his behavior. It wasn't that he didn't love dance anymore, he still did, but after spending an entire morning at school, he felt emotionally exhausted and kept stumbling over all the moves that should have been easy for him, which only made him more frustrated with himself.

One Friday afternoon, Luke was stuck at home, sick with the flu, which meant that only Connor was with Mrs. Shapiro for ballet lesson. Towards the end of the class, she gently asked, "Connor, I've noticed you seem a little… off lately. You're not usually like this. Is something wrong?"

"Not really," he muttered, picking at his fingernails. She didn't respond, so he continued hesitantly, "It's just that the kids at school are mean."

"I'm sorry to hear about that, Connor," she said, giving him a quick hug. It took him a little by surprise; nobody outside of his family hugged him, most definitely not a teacher. "I know about children being mean. School can be difficult, Luke has told me about it so many times. And I used to be picked on at school when I was little, mostly because I wasn't a very good student." She gave a weak laugh, shaking her head a little at the memory.

"Really?" he blinked in surprise. "But you're a teacher."

She chuckled. "I was good at dance, that's why I became a dance teacher, but I wasn't good at schoolwork. I didn't do well in my classes, so needless to say, the teachers weren't very pleased with me."

"I… my grades are fine, I think?" Connor tried to explain, he felt that maybe Mrs. Shapiro wasn't getting it. It wasn't about being good at schoolwork. It'd been something stupid that he did just because he was angry that he now regretted, but that no one let him forget. Which Mrs. Shapiro probably won't be able to understand because she wasn't as stupid as him. "It's just, the kids in my class always tease me."

"About dance?"

"No…" he didn't want to tell her about the printer incident. It was too embarrassing. "It was just something stupid I did," he muttered, turning away from her and staring at his shoes instead.

"We all do stupid things when we're young," she reassured him. Not something stupid like throwing a printer, he thought to himself. "What's important is that you learn from these incidents, and not do it again." He nodded, biting his lower lip. "And remember," she continued. "If you still feel sad, find something that makes you happy and stick to it, do something that will cheer you up when you feel down, understand?"

"I like dance," he smiled. "It makes me happy."

"Then make the dance studio your haven, lose yourself in the music and forget about school, forget about the kids who are mean to you. You're a good dancer, Connor, you have a gift for it and you work hard. I know that the past few weeks haven't been the best performances from you, but I can see that you have so much potential. I'm really proud of you."

"Really?" he beamed. She nodded encouragingly at him. "Thanks, Mrs. Shapiro!"

"Well, I've kept you here long enough," she said, heading for the door. "Your sister's probably waiting, I'll see you next week. And don't forget to practice!"

"I will! Bye, Mrs. Shapiro!" Connor gave her a little wave as he headed out the door.

She noticed that he had a little more spring in his step than he'd had when he first entered an hour ago.

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so...i don't really like this chapter that much? it feels a bit like a filler or something, idk.
anyway, tell me what you think about it? constructive criticism is always appreciated. and comments/kudos always motivate me ;))
if you wanna talk, hmu on tumblr, thewickedverkaiking!

btw, feel free to send prompts for what you want to see in future chapters! i have a couple i promise i'm getting to soon (: