First day at school

The following days were spent pretty much getting yourself all prepped and ready for your big return to school. Some of it was as simply as revising notes and textbooks that had been laid out and doing your best to memorise everything you'd possibly need to know to fit in as a teacher. You were especially lucky that Mr Hanson had left a basic lesson plan before the accident, and that became your bible for the next few days.

There was also a mental adjustment that you needed to figure out. You weren’t going to a student anymore, simply sitting at your desk and trying to memorise boring crap, you were going to be the one in charge. The one giving all the orders, maintaining discipline. Could you do that, though? You always thought of yourself as a laid back guy. Could you be stern with your former classmates? You supposed you had a level of power, giving people detention. Brandon Walsh, the captain of the football team sprung immediately to mind. He always acted like a total ass towards you and your friends, but now you were the one in charge. A smile crept across your new face. It could be fun, being a teacher.

When Monday rolled around you had a small breakfast of coffee and a single donut- you were too anxious to really eat, showered, and then pillaged Mr Hanson’s closet for appropriate wear. With the appropriate shirt, tie and pants you soon found yourself into teaching mode.

It was pretty overwhelming at first as you walked into the school, a place that was normally so familiar to you. Teachers whom you had barely interacted with before came up to you, shaking your hand, calling you “George” and asking about how things were after the accident. It was all you could to awkwardly play on, make vague allusions to headaches and bluff your way through it.

The teachers lounge was where the action really intensified, revealing another side of a world you had only ever glimpsed as a student. It was here that you spotted more than a few faculty members that you recognised, and some who had even taught you directly in the past. Your old chemistry teacher Mrs. Naismith was in the corner, sipping something that didn’t entirely smell like coffee. The rumours were that she was a drunk, and you guessed that they were true. Likewise Coach Swanson had always struck you as a bit of a creep, and that was swiftly confirmed when you noticed he was eyeing several of female members of staff.

All eyes fell on you as you entered and it was a frenzy of well wishers coming to shake your hand, ask how you were doing and make light banter which you nervously and awkwardly returned. Miss Esposita, (Carla, you learnt from context cues) the exotic Spanish teacher, who you'd always thought was pretty sexy, chatted away with you like you were old friends and asked in her rich accent if you would be ok with the course load or if you needed help. Miss Wells (Amanda) also seemed pretty friendly, and it was here that you were slightly taken aback. You had never really paid much attention to the woman, what with her straight laced clothing and hair done up in a professional bun, but the way she smiled at you with genuinely warmth transformed her face, and you realised this was a very pretty woman standing before you.

“You gave us a scare George,” she said, gripping your arm tightly. “How are you holding up?”

You smiled back. “I think I’m gonna be ok. My head’s a little fuzzy, but I’ll live.”

She processed that and nodded. In a lower voice she said, “Laura was really scared.”

As if summoned, Miss Card appeared in the teacher’s lounge, her bright eyes going directly for you. With a big grin she closed the gap between you in three long strides, joining Amanda at your side. “Everything going ok, George?”

“Right as rain,” you replied, hoping that you weren’t blushing like an idiot at all the attention.

For much of the next ten minutes you all spent time casually chatting. Mostly about the weekend, pointedly ignoring the topic of your accident and veering into more benign Subjects like Amanda's new boyfriend and his overly thick eyebrows. It struck you how these people who you had often looked at from afar, these grown adults with adult lives…they weren’t really all that different from you or your friends. They gossiped and joked, they gave each other shit. Everything felt refreshingly …normal.

Until that was, Principle Johnson appeared. Welcoming everyone back and handing out various pieces of literature to do with the up coming year, reminding everyone that this was in fact a job. He paused very briefly to acknowledge you, the accident and asked for all members of staff to show sensitivity towards the students affected by the **** of ‘ Tim Connor’s’. Counselling services would be offered and all members of staff were advised to look for signs of disturbance amongst their classes.

After his spiel, the bell rang and Principle Johnson wished everyone the best before ushering them out. Miss Card said she would see you later, her eyes linger for just a moment before heading out. You went to the other side of the school, making your way through the stream of students until you finally came to the Science department.

Your heart was in your throat when you entered and found a full class of seniors noisily chatting amongst themselves. But, taking a breath, you set your things down on the desk and cleared your throat. Almost on muscle memory, you said, “Alright guys let’s settle down and get this show on the road.”

They quickly ceased their activity and sat forward in their seats, eyes intent. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of confidence and power at the respect you commanded. Had you ever had a room full of people listen to you before? You didn't think so.

There was also something automatic about the process that you chalked up to Hanson’s residual muscle memory. You walked and spoke in an authoritative manner that seemed instinctual, and when students asked questions you found the answers rising to the forefront of your mind. It felt great, like playing an old instrument. Four classes went by before the lunch bell rang, and the students began to file out.

You gathered your things and made your way down the hall when a voice called out to you. “Mr Hanson!”