Asked to Compromise

Of course I was late on my first day of classes. I couldn’t give a fuck. I took my time getting ready for the day and dragged my feet to the main building. I stopped in front of room 153, looking into the square little window on the door. Mr. Seward’s English class, like it said on my schedule. Class had already started. I twisted the door handle and pushed it open bravely and loudly, interrupting the whole class.

“What’s up?” I turned to everyone nonchalantly.

The majority of the kids sitting down looked tired, and then there were the few that looked happy to be in class this early. I scoped out an empty desk in the back while scanning over the class. I was going to pick and choose who my new “crew” would be for my time here. I glanced at the people who looked chill. Some of the guys looked at me and whispered to their friends, some girls did the same. I was the new kid, after all. They were going to look and talk about me regardless, but I dared someone to let me hear it.

“It’s 8:10,” Mr. Seward turned away from the board to face me. “You’re late.”

“I know,” I shrugged. “Where do you want me to sit?”

Seward looked over the class in thought. The only option was for me to sit in the back. I decided for myself and started walking towards the back.

“Josh, can you move to the back so Priscilla can sit here?” Seward asked some guy in the front row.
I cursed under my breath. I did not want to sit in the front with this guy. I’d rather be in the back and alone. But with me sitting in the front, there was no choice but to draw attention to myself. Everyone was going to know and learn who I am and I was going to make this class hell for Seward.

“Whatever,” ‘Josh’ mumbled, grabbing his backpack and heading to the seat I originally wanted.

I walked over, sitting at the desk in the front. It was almost directly in the center of the room. I set my bag down and looked up, giving Seward a fake smile.

He wore a plain black shirt and jeans today. His head was shaved on both sides and what seemed to be a Mohawk flopped down on his head. Again, he didn’t try to hide his tattoos. He had some sort of woman on his right arm and tattoos around his neck. He wore the same kind of dog tag necklace Mr. Baker had yesterday. I definitely had to make some comments about his height. He was roughly between 5’4 and 5’6.

“Class, this is Priscilla. She’s new here,” Mr. Seward said. “Make her feel welcome.”

“As if anyone would feel welcome to be here,” Someone commented from the far right.

I laughed out loud, looking at Seward. Some people agreed and made more comments.

“I don’t want any comments from anyone,” Mr. Seward said.

“Then you’re not gonna like what comes out my mouth,” I warned him.

“No comments from anyone, including you,” He reiterated, pointing at me. “No one feeds into Priscilla’s antics, either. Anyone that does gets detention.”

I rolled my eyes as he turned back to the board to continue his lesson or whatever. I twirled and tapped my pen in my hands, looking around. It was like a regular school classroom- white walls, black board, a white dry erase board, and windows. There were some of those corny quotes and pictures to motivate us to do good hanging on the walls. I thought this was the eleventh grade, not the first grade.

Seward went on about the books we’d be reading during the year, journals, writing pieces, and the like. He was mostly directing everything at me since I was new. I could feel people staring at the back of my head. I just shrugged it off. I leaned back in my chair, going into my own world. Soon, forty-five minutes of class was over and Seward was passing out worksheets to be done for homework.
“I expect this due tomorrow,” He said to me, as I passed by him, snatching the paper out his hand.

“Yeah, whatever,” I said. I folded the paper up and tucked it away into my bag.

-

I was on time to my next class; US History and Government. I walked in, glancing at Mr. Sullivan unsurely. His silver labret piercing wasn’t there when I first saw him on Friday.

“Priscilla,” Mr. Sullivan smiled at me. “Sit anywhere you want.”

I nodded, sitting in the middle towards the window. He was the only person I didn’t have a problem with so far. The rest of them were pricks. I took out the one binder I was carrying around for the day and a pen. Mr. Sullivan started his lesson, picking up from where he left off before I came here.
He drew some diagrams on the board and lectured us for the most part. He wrote down some key notes for us to copy. He wasn’t necessarily starting from the very beginning of American history, because well, everyone should’ve known the basics. I didn’t copy a single word from the board onto my paper.

I kept quiet for the most part. I liked Sullivan, he seemed cool. He made little jokes while he was lecturing, causing most of us to laugh. He was funny, I admit. I hoped that he could at least be the one person I liked and that he didn’t ruin it. I could quickly switch from liking to hating someone, just like I did with Haner.

“And that’s it,” Mr. Sullivan said minutes before the bell rung. “Your only homework is to go over the notes from today.”

I closed my binder and threw my pen into my bag, standing up from the desk. I waited until most of the class was done rushing out of the door to go.

“Priscilla,” Mr. Sullivan said.

I turned around, looking at him. He nodded his head over to the desk he was leaning on.

“Yeah?” I asked, walking over to him.

“I hope you weren’t confused after that or anything. If you feel lost or don’t get it, just come see me after school, anytime,” He said.

If he was any other teacher, I would’ve laughed in his face. But I liked him, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. I was quick to pick up on lessons, but he was funny if he thought I’d be after school for tutoring or something. I wouldn’t be caught dead at an after school tutoring session. I barely did my work.

“Nope, I’m all good,” I said, turning down his offer.

“Alright,” He shrugged.

“I have to go,” I said, rushing out the classroom and down the hall.

-

I was glad to get out of chemistry and go to lunch. Mr. Ragan was a lot better than Ms. Judes. He had some tattoos and was cool, but he let me know right off the bat that he was capable of getting mean. He was big and burly like Sanders was, with curly hair and light blue eyes. I assumed he was a drug addict in a past life. I knew I irritated the hell out of him through the whole class period.

I ate in the dining hall by myself, like I did for the past two days. The cafeteria wasn’t as crowded like in the morning because of classes and lunch periods being split up. I sat at a table in the corner with my earphones in. People walked by me as they finished getting their lunch, looking at me. I glared at all of them. I tried to text with one hand and eat my salad with the other.

I guessed things were okay back at home from what my friends were telling me. My parents called me almost every day. I still hadn’t talked to them. I didn’t want to talk to them. I sent every one of their calls straight to voicemail. They were going to think I was giving them the silent treatment.

I looked up after a while, feeling somebody watching me. I scanned the cafeteria, my eyes landing on Mr. Baker first. He stood by the far wall. He was standing with Haner with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at me. Mr. Haner stopped talking and looked at me too. Haner raised an eyebrow and smiled. I clenched my hands around my phone and fork, glaring at him. How dare he act like nothing happened the other day. Fucking idiot.

I mouthed “fuck off” to both of them slowly, making sure they understood what I was saying. I stood up and kicked my chair in, throwing the rest of my salad into the nearest garbage can. It was almost 11:30 now and I still had a half hour until gym. I realized Mr. Baker was my gym teacher. I took my schedule from my pocket to double check. Yep, he definitely was.

-

I clicked my tongue and clenched my jaw as I walked into Mr. Haner’s algebra 2 class after spanish. I was the first person there. It took almost everything in me to not attack him then and there. I wanted to kick his face in. That bastard.

“I can’t fucking believe I have to see you every fucking day last period,” I said, glaring at him.

“Watch your fu-,” He stopped and hesitated, “Watch your language.”

“Maybe you need to watch yours,” I told him, scoffing. People started rushing in through the door and sitting at their desks. “I want to sit in the back.”

“I want you to sit up front,” He said, pointing at a desk directly in front of the board.

“You’re not gonna like me sitting there,” I warned.

“I think I can handle it,” He said lowly. “Now sit down, Priscilla.”

I took a deep breath to calm down before throwing my bag to the floor and slumping back in the chair at the desk. I hated this man. I glared at him through his whole lesson and didn’t write a single thing down, like I did in all my other classes. Who did this guy think he was? His cockiness and arrogance showed right through the position of being a “teacher”. I got madder the more I thought about it. I was going to seriously hurt him here.