It started out like any other school day at P.S. 118. Students arrived on campus in a timely fashion, retrieved their books and other supplies from their lockers, and reported to class to begin their day. The very same was true for Mr. Simmons' fourth grade class. It felt just like any other thursday morning, meaning the students that day would be focusing on...

"Geography!" Mr. Simmons exclaimed with his usual signature enthusiasm. Even the groan that resounded throughout his classroom wasn't enough to shake the smile from his face. Despite the light protest, he ordered his students to take out their geography books, and he turned to the board to begin the lesson. In the middle of a lecture about the many fascinating and beautiful rock formations of the Grand Canyon, there was a knock at the classroom door.

"Come in," he called out, and the door creaked open. The presence of the person standing in the doorway only broadened the smile on Mr. Simmons' face.

"Devyn!"

"Hi Mr. Simmons." She greeted him with her usual flushed face and crooked grin. Mr. Simmons swept her up in a hug and her cheeks only grew redder as she squeezed him in return.

"What a nice surprise! We haven't seen much of you around since you moved on to Mr. Packenham's class. What brings you by today?"

"Well I was walking by Principal Wartz' office on my way back from picking up something for Mr. Packenham and he asked me if I could stop in to watch your class for a few minutes. He needs to see you in his office right away."

"Oh...oh dear..." Mr. Simmons brought a worried hand up to his cheek. He thought for a few seconds before turning to his students. "Class, I'll be right back. Please behave and listen to Devyn. I should return shortly."

All the way to the office, his stomach was doing nervous backflips. He'd never been in Principal Wartz' office for any disciplinary reasons before, and it just wasn't in his ever-the-optimist nature to assume the worst about anything, so why was he feeling so particularly nervous?

Once inside the office, Mr. Simmons found himself sitting on a creaky old chair in a dark corner of the room, with Principal Wartz pacing back and forth in front of him, hands clasped behind his back. There was a very serious look on his face and his gaze was fixated on the floor.

Mr. Simmons finally found his nerve, and after a loud swallow, managed to speak up.

"Principal Wartz, is something wrong?"

"I'm afraid something IS wrong Mr. Simmons, something is very, very wrong. There are some very serious accusations piled up against you right now and I'm afraid I can't ignore them."

Mr. Simmons swallowed again. Just the mere thought of what he possibly could have done, whether knowingly or unknowingly, made him feel queasy. His stomach rumbled in angry protest.

Principal Wartz stopped pacing and stepped behind his desk. He sat down and removed his half moon glasses, folding them gently and setting them on the tabletop.

"An informant, who wishes to remain anonymous at this time, has come to me this very morning to reveal to me that you are, in fact, an openly homosexual man."

Mr. Simmons looked as if someone had just punched him in the stomach.

"Surely you can understand why this presents itself as a problem."

He was determined to keep his wits about him, even though his heart was pounding at the speed of light and he was suddenly fighting to keep his breakfast down.

"N-no sir, I'm not sure that I understand." he answered with a slow shake of his head. "I...I am gay, yes, but why is it any of your business?"

"Because, Mr. Simmons, having someone like you at my school, teaching my students, simply isn't right. As an educator, you understand how impressionable a young mind can be."

"...A-are you ACTUALLY suggesting that I will somehow teach my students to be gay?"

"I'm afraid that's exactly what I'm suggesting."

For the first time in what was quite literally years, he was angry. Normally, it took a LOT to rile up Robert Simmons. And right now, he was RILED. His heart still thundered in his chest like a hundred race horses, but no longer from anxiety.

"Sexuality is not something you can condition," he hissed, narrowing his eyes at his employer. "It's something you're born with."

"That very well may be. But why would we want to take any chances?"

The emotional roller coaster that Mr. Simmons had been riding suddenly hit it's peak and plunged down as fast as it could go. His angry facade melted and he folded in on himself, silently sobbing into his hands.

"I'm as upset as you are, Mr. Simmons. You're a wonderful teacher. I hate to let you go under these circumstances, but I'm only doing what I believe is best for the students. You have fifteen minutes to pack up your desk and be off school grounds. You can expect your severence pay in the mail next week."

Lifting his hot, wet, sticky face from his hands, he stood up, and headed for the door. Everything felt heavy and numb.

"We're going to miss you, Mr. Simmons."

He didn't say anything in return as he shut the door and left to go back to his classroom, full of waiting students.

Every step he took felt like it was going to be the one to land him on the ground.