Page 13 of When It Burns

Tucking my phone into my desk, I open the door for my students to enter the room for the day. I make my way into the hall for morning duty to ensure students all make it into first period safely. After standing there for a few minutes and speaking to the teachers next door, the bell signaling the beginning of first period rings so I enter the room and close the door.

As class begins, my students reach for the composition notebook and work quietly on the bell ringer question. Since we are currently reading the beginning ofThe Great Gatsby, I’d asked them to explain their idea of the American Dream. I monitor the room and notice that Michael Adams is the only student not working. He has his phone out and headphones in to listen to the show he’s watching on HBO. Springside High School has a no-phone policy during instruction, and while I generally try to pick my battles with cell phones in class, Michael is blatantly disrespecting the policy and me.

I take a breath and walk over to his desk. I tap on his desk and motion for him to remove the headphones so I can speak with him. He looks up at me and rolls his eyes before going back to his movie. Really? I do not make enough money to deal with this crap.

I blow out a breath before tapping on his desk again. He pulls out an AirPod and looks up at me, “What?” he asks as if he hasn’t blatantly disrespected me twice before eight in the morning.

“I need you to put up the phone and headphones and answer the bell ringer. This one could be a grade,” I say, trying to force a bit of a smile.

“No thanks,” he responds as he goes to put the earbud back in his ear.

“Michael, you can’t have those out in class. I’ve asked you nicely twice. If I see them again I will have to confiscate them and turn them into the office. After that, your parents will have to come get them. Plus I don’t want you to get a zero on your bell ringer,” I say calmly. I learned early on to do my best not to let my frustration show even when I was ready to snap. It isn’t foolproof, but voicing my frustration just puts me at a higher risk for the student to escalate.

“You know what Miss Caroline? Fuck you, fuck your bellringer, and fuck your policy. If you want the AirPods and the phone you're gonna have to come take them, and since I am assuming you’re not gonna do that, I am gonna sit right here and watch my movie while you drone on about whatever stupid, useless shit you have planned to talk about today,” Michael explodes at me.

It isn’t very often that I am stunned speechless while teaching, but this moment is definitely one of them. I look around at the rest of the class who are staring at me with expressions that I am assuming mirror mine. I have dealt with all sorts of behavior issues over the last few years, but I have never been cussed at so blatantly by a student during class. A few of the boys shift in their seats like they are ready to jump to my rescue if Michael becomes violent, but I know I need to do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. I rack my brain trying to figure out why Michael is behaving this way, but I come up empty. He hasn’t been overly friendly, but I am pretty sure if I check his grades it will show that he is normally an all-A student.

I calmly walk over to the school phone that sits on my desk and pick it up. I enter the extension for the office, and after a few rings our school secretary, Mrs. Bess, picks up. Mrs. Bess is in her mid-forties and is adored by most of the kids at Springside High.

“Springside High School, how can I help you?” she asks politely.

“Good morning Mrs. Bess, this is Miss Tyler. Are any of the administrative team in the office? I am having an issue in first period, and I need someone down here.”

“Let me check Miss Tyler. These kids just keep getting crazier I swear, honey. Give me just a second,” Mrs. Bess says as she places me on hold. The whole room has given up any semblance of pretending to work on their assignment, and everyone is staring at me to see how this will go down. Meanwhile, Michael sits at his desk continuing to watch his movie while throwing sneers at me every few minutes.

“I’m sorry Miss Tyler, but they’re not in their offices right now.”

“What about the resource officer?” I ask, and she must hear the desperation in my voice.

“Oh dear. He’s here somewhere. Let me find him, and I will get him over there to you,” Mrs. Bess says apologetically.

“Thanks so much,” I respond to her quickly before hanging up. In the time that I have been on the phone, Michael has removed his AirPods and is continuing to watch his show without the headphones. The students around him look uncomfortable and, as I look closer, I realize he is watching the latest episode ofEuphoriawhich is certainly not school-friendly. As cursing and moans fill the room, everyone begins fidgeting awkwardly.

“Michael Adams, turn that off right this instant,” I say, once again shocked at how openly he is defying me.

“What’s the matter, Miss Tyler? You’re just mad you’re too much of a prude to have someone warm your bed at night. You should go smoke a blunt and calm your tits,” he taunts.

Truly at a loss for words, I can do nothing but blink at him. I notice two or three of the boys looking at him like they are ready to handle it themselves, but I make eye contact and shake my head at them. After a few minutes of an intense stare-off, I hear the resource officer putting the key in the door to come inside. Officer Stewart comes in and immediately waits for me to explain what’s wrong. Over the last three years, I’ve never had to call for him so he knows it must be something big.

“Well, Mr. Adams has caused a major disruption and needs to be removed. He had his phone and AirPods out, and when I asked him to put them away, he cussed at me several times. Then as I was waiting on the office to find you, he started playing an inappropriate video out loud and made some derogatory comments at me. He is refusing to leave,” I explain in a rush.

Officer Stewart looks at me like I have spoken to him in a foreign language. Springside High is definitely not perfect, but I doubt he has ever been called in for anything like this before. I would empathize with him if I wasn’t so tense and desperate for this incident to be over.

“Well, uh Mr. Adams, you're gonna have to come with me,” Officer Stewart states. I have to admit that he doesn’t sound convincing to my ears so I doubt Michael is concerned. When Michael refuses to leave, Officer Stewart picks up the walkie-talkie he keeps with him to connect to the office.

“Hey Mrs. Bess, we're gonna need backup,” he says.

Great. I blow out a breath and sit down at my desk and resist the urge to put my head down. Looks like today isn’t my day either.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THEO

Iwalk up to the locker room before practice on Thursday, and I immediately notice that there is a different feel to the atmosphere at the school. I tell myself I am making a big deal out of nothing and try to get myself ready for practice. As I walk back to the little makeshift office Will made for me on Monday where I leave my notes, I hear the murmur of boys talking about some incident that happened earlier today.

I ignore it as I continue making my way through the rows of lockers until I hear one of them say Caroline’s name. I turn and look for Will so that I can ask what the hell is going on, but I don’t see him. I grab my papers and make my way outside where I see Will and one of the other coaches, Marcus, talking.

“Good afternoon,” I yell to them as I walk over. They stop talking and both of them glare at me. “What’s going on?”

---