“Hello class. My name is Abigail Knightly. Please refer to me as Ms. Knightly or ma’am; or Ms. Abby if you manage to keep an A+ grade.” Ms. Knightly announced to her new class. Replacing an old veteran like Mr. Johnson was never easy, more so for her as she had just come back from a sabbatical and was admittedly a little rusty on how to teach. Luckily, she knew the material well and could lean on her experience for now until she got back into the flow again. “I’ll be your new teacher this year. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. Please be patient with me, I’m not all too good with names. Now, then, let’s do roll call.” She said, as she picked up her spiral notebook.
Tyler waited for his turn to speak, watching everyone else in the rows next to him announce their names one-by-one. He hated this moment. He felt like he had to prepare like he was going to give the State of the Union condensed to a single word, and if he failed, he’d be deemed a failure at his job.
“Here.” He finally stated. He sighed and slumped into his chair. Pulling out his journal to immediately start doodling in it and was soon lost in his world of magic and sorcery. Thankfully, he was able to get by only paying a little attention to class and that his doodles were often mistaken for notes by most teachers. That’s why he had always picked the farthest back seat, after all.
“Does my lesson bore you, Mr. Underwood?” Came a voice above and to the right of Tyler.
Tyler let out a small yelp as he jolted his head upward to the teacher. She looked mad, but then his eyes focused and what his frightened brain immediately deduced was anger was actually a mild smile on her lips as she looked down at his desk. He followed her eyes and noticed that his doodles were obviously not notes on the syllabus.
“Sorry, Ms. Knightly.” Came his meek reply.
“Quite alright, Mr. Underwood. But don’t let it happen again in my class.” Came her reply as she turned back around and continued her quick overview of the lesson plan for the semester and how each student was to prepare a paper about one of the four Geneva Conventions by the end of the semester. History had never been Tyler’s strongest, but this class was one of the few AP classes the school gave that he qualified for, and he wanted to not have to take it later in college. Instead of managing to pay attention, though, Tyler spent the rest of the class chastising himself and feeling like a heel. For some reason, he always took the words others had to criticize him for a thousand times worse than was necessary, but he couldn’t help it, so the song and dance of internally berating himself continued for the next thirty minutes.
Thankfully, they passed quickly, and Tyler was about to bolt for the door when his name was called by the teacher a second time to come to her desk. This is it, he thought, this is where I’m told I’m just a failure like I deserve. Tyler realized that he had tears starting in his eyes. God, what was he, twelve?
After everyone was out the door of the classroom, Tyler stood by the desk of his teacher, looking at his feet. “I’m sorry again, Ms. Knightly.” It was all he could muster. He feared he’d start crying for real if he said more.
“It’s quite alright. It really is. I wanted to ask if everything was okay.” Came a much more caring voice than Tyler anticipated. “Is it?”
“What?” was all he could get out, looking up at his teacher's face, looking at it for real this time. She had pretty dark brown hair and hazel eyes that hinted at a brilliant, very perceptive person underneath. It frightened him a little, like all the knowledge underneath those eyes could swallow him whole as easily an ocean can a minnow.
“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping a little, but I attempt to make sure all my students are happy to whatever degree I can ensure. And it looked like after I caught you doodling you were about to cry, and that look didn’t stop until the end of class, am I right?”
Tyler could only stare at this teacher. She couldn’t be more than 45 years old, but somehow, she seemed like a sage of wisdom with how well she could see beneath him. Or maybe he really did wear his emotions on his sleeve. His friend Orlando always seemed to know what he was feeling.
“It’s just… How best to put it? Normally, kids don’t have that kind of response unless there’s trauma underneath it. Is everything alright at home? Are you safe?”
“Y-yes ma’am.” He replied, barely able to keep his emotions from boiling over. Did this teacher really care that much that she paid that much attention to each student? Or is he simply reading too much into it. Is he normal, or does he stand out too much? These thoughts bounced around Tyler’s head.
“Well, that’s good at least. I wanted to reassure you before you went on your way. It’s the least I could do after scaring you like that. I’m not mad, and I’m not going to hold this over you. I can tell you’re a very sensitive child, and I’ll keep that in mind in the future. I’m sorry I scared you so.”
She seemed so honest that Tyler couldn’t help but take her words at face value. “T-thank you, Ms. Knightly.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“You’re welcome, Tyler. Now here’s a pass for your next class. Please don’t be too late, okay?”
“Yes ma’am.”
And with that, he hurried out the door, before any other deeply held secrets of his could be laid bare like nothing more than parchment.
◊◊◊
Truth be told, Tyler didn’t want to go to his next class, so he decided to wander the halls a little. He figured ten minutes late wouldn’t look too bad, and he needed to clear his head from the conversation with the new AP History teacher. He was still going over the conversation for the third time when he bumped into a wall of flesh.
“Well, well, well.” Sid said like the cartoon villain he was. “Look at what we have here.”
Before Tyler could turn and run, his shirt was already clutched in a hand nearly as big as his chest was wide. Tyler realized that he was in the Hall of Achievement, a hallway that was only really walked down when students entered and left the school, not somewhere anyone would walk through to get to their next class. He was trapped here, and likely wouldn’t have help from anyone. He just hoped that whatever beating he’d get out of the audacity to cross paths with the school’s most likely bully wouldn’t leave too many bruises. He’d hate to have to make his mother worry again.
“Let me go, Sid.” Tyler attempted to sound strong, but it came out afraid.
“And what if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll—” before Tyler could finish his sentence, his back was making friends with the pane of glass behind him. Glass cracked, and the wind was knocked out of him. Sure, Sid was on the wrestling team, but how was he this strong?
“You’ll what?” Sid mocked. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Please.” Tyler could only beg now.
“Please… what?” Sid sneered.
“Please let—” Tyler was once again interrupted by the bully using his body like a ‘break glass in case of emergency’ hammer. And break it did. Glass falling all around him and shelves of trophy’s falling on the small teen. Tyler was crying for real now. Hot fresh tears rolled down his face as the cut on his arm bled onto the trophy for Boys’ Soccer, 1899.
“Hey!” A loud voice came from down the hall. Tyler wept stronger now that his savior was nearby. He’d never felt such relief.
“It’s your lucky day, kid” Sid replied and took off down the hall in the opposite direction.
“Are you okay, man?” Came the sympathetic voice.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Tyler said, but not felt. “I’m okay.” He repeated.
“Shit, I’m the worst bodyguard ever.”
“What?” was all Tyler could get out before he finally looked up at his messiah, only to realize it was Durian. Mr. Buzz himself. “How?” was all he could get out. He wanted to ask four different questions but could only get out one word.
“Skipping class and I heard the glass break.” Durian shrugged. “Now let’s get you to the nurses, huh?”
“Okay”
The boys made their way back into the school to the nurses’ office, unaware that the trophy for Boys’ Soccer, 1899 was glowing slightly, then not at all. Whatever light was in the cup had moved to the blood on the ground, and Tyler felt a warmth spread throughout his arm where the cut had been.
◊◊◊
Later that night was spent consoling his mother. She was weeping and holding her son close to her chest. She promised to get him out of that school a long time ago, but finances had never been there to put Tyler into a private school, and much less to move out of the two-bedroom apartment they lived in. Unfortunately for them both, the financial situation of the Underwood’s had never been the same after Mr. Underwood passed in a car accident ten years ago. The life insurance helped, but even that ran out eventually.
“I’m okay, mom, really. Durian helped fight the bully off and promised to always walk me to each class. He even got a blanket hall pass for doing so from the school nurse.” Tyler lying to his mother. He hated lying like this to her, but he wanted to comfort her somehow. She suffered so much these past ten years, he hated that he was again the cause of another worry.
Tyler’s mom could only sniffle at that. Seriously, who is the adult in this situation? Tyler wondered to himself, and immediately chided himself for that thought. He loved his mother, and she always did her best for him since his dad passed.
“Really, mom, I’m fine. Look! I’m basically healed all the way.” He said as he held up his arm and slowly unwrapped the gauze. Then he was shocked to find that, yeah, he was all healed. He wasn’t sure how cuts worked, but he was pretty sure that a cut along the entire forearm should at least come with a nasty scar as well, but only smooth skin was left under the wrappings. Weird, he thought as he traced where he remembered the cut being.
Tyler went to bed a little happier now that his mother was asleep. She always took it out on herself whenever he got hurt; a little too much, Tyler thought.
Tyler thought back on the day. He felt like an entire week had passed him by in a single day, but it was still Monday evening. What a wild day. He especially dwelled on the situation with Durian. Did he mean it when he said he’d protect him from other bullies? Was he even a bully? He had said he was going to protect him in exchange for him doing his math homework. Tyler had always just assumed that was just a vague platitude to ease being coerced into doing twice the amount of math homework, but now he wasn’t so sure. Maybe he actually needed help with math, and this was a deal he attempted to come up with for it. Tyler tried hard to remember the day they came up with the agreement again. He remembered it like he was being forced, but now that he thought on that again, he wasn’t so sure.
“Hiya!” Came a voice from the foot of his bed as he walked in the door.
“Hey.” He casually replied as he kept walking down the hall to the bathroom.
Tyler was thinking about how he was starting to see Durian in a new light.
Wait.
Tyler stood there and mentally retraced his steps through the hallway again. Turning around and peeking around the door frame to his room with more than a little caution, he was surprised to see a small woman sit on the foot of his bed, just as he remembered. She had her legs crossed and wore an oversized black tunic and green leggings. She didn’t have anything on her feet and her hair was done up in a messy bun, but one that looked good. She looked like she was about to go to bed. But acted like this was her room and not his. She quickly noticed him looking in and waved at him.
“Hi! Name’s Eris. Nice to meetchya.” Came the voice from the small girl.