Page 27 of When It Burns

Margaret: Yourself! I have some recipes to test. Just come whenever you’re ready!

The bell signaling the start of the school day rings loudly, so I throw my phone in my desk drawer and grab my energy drink before making my way to my spot outside the door to welcome students in.

“Good morning! Happy Thursday! Let’s take that hood off before you go in please, Josh. Hey guys,” I say as several of my students trickle into my room.

“Good morning Miss Caroline,” one of my students named Ty says as he stops in front of the door. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m good, Ty. How are you?” I ask him, trying to make sure the smile stays firmly on my face.

“I’m okay. I just wanted to check on you. We all know Michael is supposed to come back today,” he says, letting the end of the sentence hang in the air like he’s waiting for me to comment.

“Now Ty, you know I can’t discuss another student with you,” I respond, knowing what the six-foot-two linebacker is about to say.

“I know Miss Caroline, and I don’t want any trouble. Coach would have my as-, uh butt. But I just wanted you to know we’ve got your back,” he says with sincerity in his eyes.

“I appreciate that Ty. But I am gonna be fine!” I tell him, putting on a wide smile.

“I know. But we’re all worried. He’s seemed off and we don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Ty says sheepishly before walking into my room and sitting at his desk. I don’t have assigned seating as long as my classes behave, and I notice that the athletes who have sat together since we started school have spread out throughout the room.

I feel a bit of anxiety zip through me since everyone seems on edge today, but I try to push it aside. It’s all gonna be fine. Michael’s just a kid that made a mistake, right? I’ve made mistakes. It doesn’t define him and today’s a better day.

My inner pep talk is interrupted by the sound of a locker slamming across the hall. I look over and see Michael making his way towards my room. He’s staring at me and his face turns into a menacing sneer the closer he comes down the hall.

“Good morning, Michael,” I say, plastering a smile on my face.

“Whatever,” he grunts as he walks past me and slides into one of the desks by the door.

I blow out a breath and walk back into my room. I am introducing Transcendentalism with a mini escape room today, and it has become one of my favorite activities of the year. I stayed late yesterday to make sure all of the activities were correctly set up throughout the room and printed the digital code sheets my students would need to participate. I grab them off my back shelf before making my way to the podium to introduce the activity.

“Alright, good morning guys. I told you we were going to start our Transcendentalism activity today. I have ten stations set up around the room and your job is to work through all of them. You can use your Chromebooks if you get stuck, and we will discuss everything you learned tomorrow. You can break into groups or work on your own. The first three people to ‘escape’ get bonus points. You’ll turn in your work today for a minor grade. You can start,” I tell them after ensuring they all have a code sheet.

I watch as most of my students jump out of their desks and get to work. I walk around for the first few minutes checking on their progress before realizing that Michael is still sitting at his desk glaring at me.

A chill runs through me briefly before I shake it off and make my way over to his desk. I can instantly feel a shift in the room as everyone stops moving to watch the interaction. I notice some of the boys seem to inch a bit closer to me as I walk across the room.

“Hey Michael, I need you to participate today. The activity is a grade and I don’t want you to fall behind,” I say through a smile once I am beside his desk. I know the best way to handle the situation is to try to diffuse it, so I continue smiling and keep my body posture as relaxed as possible.

“Nope,” he says with his arms crossed across his chest.

“Well I will need you to sign a refusal to work paper if you don’t want to submit it, and I’ll have to notify a parent. That’s the county policy. Is that okay with you?” I say quietly enough to keep the rest of the class from hearing.

“I don’t give a shit what you need!” Michael yells loudly as his eyes blaze with anger. “Take your goddamn paperwork and your stupid as fuck activity and choke on it.”

I blow out a breath and calm myself before responding. “Michael, I-” I say before he jumps out of his desk and gets in my face. I feel several of my students start to make their way towards us, but I point at them to stay where they are without taking my eyes off Michael.

“Why are you such a fucking bitch?” Michael asks. “You sit up here on your damn high horse with a fucking smile on your face like life is rainbows and butterflies while you drone on about dead dudes and act like any of this shit matters.”

“Michael, I understand you’re upset, but I need you to calm down. You are not going to speak to me like this,” I say as calmly as I can.

“Fuck that!” he yells loudly. “I’ll save you the trouble of calling the office. I am getting the hell out of here!”

With that Michael turns around and heads towards the door. He stops beside it and kicks over my rolling cart I keep stocked with paper and pencils for students to grab. He pushes open the door and slams it so hard I am surprised the window doesn’t break.

“Miss Tyler, are you okay? Do you want us to go after him?” Ty asks me, anger shining in his eyes.

“Absolutely not. Y’all get to work. I need to call the office, and I’ll be there to help you as soon as I am finished,” I respond as I try to keep my voice even and calm.

I hear a chorus of “Yes ma’am” as I make my way to my classroom phone to call Mrs. Bess and pretend like I don’t notice the way my hand is shaking.

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