Monday was awful. Therese normally loved math class, she did not have to participate much at all, never had to give an opinion, except to give an occasional answer, and she was able to keep to her self, which she enjoyed. On the worst day she had to write the solution on the board in front of the class.

Today was awful though, her teacher called her up to the front to demonstrate how she solved a problem. Therese took one step forward. She hated this. Therese took another step forward. She really hated this. She looked at the teacher, the teacher nodded. Therese didn’t think “why me?” she just wanted to run or freeze. She heard the humming of the teacher’s computer as she approached the board. She forced her legs forward. Therese felt everyone staring at her. A girl in the back giggled. Therese wanted to cry. She dropped her paper. It floated further away from her destination. Her knees shook in fear.

Therese wanted to run, she twisted to run, but half of her twisted back to hold her ground. She stared at the paper on the floor and as her stress grew, she felt the class laughing at her. To fight the stress, Therese attempted to slow her breathing and breathe deeply through her stomach, but the paper still lay on the ground and she knew she needed the paper. Therese focused to clear her mind, as she stood there half twisted in front of the class.

A kid she didn’t see picked up the paper and brought it to her. It was Peter, she didn’t know him, but he was always in trouble for falling asleep in classes. He walked up to her. Peter stood an inch past six feet but he looked like an ogre next to Therese. He normally appeared laid back with shaggy hair and relaxed, but as he went to obtain the paper for Therese, the other kids pulled their feet in, subconsciously worrying that Peter might take them by mistake.

Peter stood next to her. “It’s ok, you got this.” said Peter, mindfully walking slowly with her. “You can do this.” reassured Peter, as she blushed, glad her back was to the class. “You have to do the problem,” prompted Peter, this is way too hard for me.” Therese was surprised she reached the board at the front of the room. Peter handed her the paper, turned to sit down, and Therese started mapping out the problem. As she focused on transcribing her numbers, the letters, her results on the board, Therese forgot about the class behind her. She finished and looked at the teacher.

“Perfect.” said her teacher, as Therese turned and ran to her seat, wishing she was at work. She looked over at Peter. He had already fallen asleep as soon as he sat down. Therese hoped he would not get in trouble today. Her teacher resisted the urge to discipline Peter, muttering something to himself about one brave act, and feeling proud of Therese’s proficient answer to the math problem. She must have a good teacher, he thought.

The bell rang loud. Therese was startled in her seat, the bell was always too loud. Therese stopped to talk to her teacher, Mr. Shank. He was a gruff man, who showed little patience, but he had been Therese’s advocate. The teacher sat at his desk, drinking his coffee out of a Styrofoam cup from a convenience store, that the best he could tell himself about it was that it had caffeine.

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“Mr. Shank, can I ask your opinion?” said Therese.

“I’ve told you before, I don’t have opinions, they are as dangerous as philosophy. I just offer observations.” said the teacher. Therese smiled her faint smile. Of course, she remembered, because when she first fought to reenter the main school, the group of school representatives had asked Mr. Shank his opinion, and her had told them the same thing, except adding that he had no observations to report because no one had given the girl a chance yet.

“May I please ask an opinion?” said Therese. She knew she could push her teacher, out of mentorship and a deep friendship. If the friendship wasn’t enough, she looked up with sad eyes slowly at Mr. Shank.

“As long as you except them worthless at face value. Unless it is this coffee, it is terrible, but I guess that is an opinion too isn’t it?” said Shank. He knew he was beaten, Therese was his spark of light in a job he had lost interest in.

“Is Peter, the boy who helped me a good boy? I don’t know why he helped me.” asked Therese.

Shank sighed in his seat, taking a sip of his bitter caffeine juice. He silently wondered who could make worse coffee than the Navy and still be able to sell it. He thought about how to answer the question. His relationship with Therese had developed into him being as much as a mentor as a teacher and then finally a friend. He genuinely liked the kid. Shank rubbed his chin and thought how to answer it and remain a teacher, but not discredit his relationship as a mentor to the girl.

“My observation is, the boy’s sleeping is more distracted by you than my efforts to teach him.” said Shank. The teacher had always noticed Peter turned his eyes to Therese, when he was able or awake.

“How could he like me?” asked Therese.

Shank felt sad at that comment. If he ever had a student he respected as a person, it was Therese. He thought how to explain the world did not revolve around teen magazines and the popular girls at her school. Shank hated the stigma shown against Therese from so many people, but most of all he hated when she displayed it against herself. In his youth, Mr. Shank had known many brave young men, and he considered Therese their equal.

“Anyone would be a damned idiot not to. Maybe he is not an idiot.” said Shank. He was tired of teaching and didn’t care to mince his words at that moment, or fight an opinion.

Therese smiled, her little half smile, which Shank knew was a full grin, she turned, put her feet together and walked out the door. Therese could not wait for the day to end.

When the day finally ended, Therese started walking home, alone, unsure if she wished she was walking with the other girls. She liked the silence, she could think better, but she felt alone, and wished she could laugh and giggle with them, but they confused her. Therese walked carefully and deliberately home, mindful to not step on cracks. Therese could not wait to get home to work in her garden. The bunny rabbits waited at the end of her street, jumped out when she arrived, and walked the rest of the way home, hoping she would tell them about her day. Therese was not sure how she could explain it, simply told them “math class”, unsure if she was angry or not. She worked in the garden until her dad came home, then he worked with her until dinner. Therese still felt confused as she fell asleep that night.