Chapter 2: Please, Sir. Don't Do This

Chapter 2: Please, Sir. Don't Do This

Nelson

“But please, sir. I really need to make up for the last test.” Miss Creed said, her voice almost breaking down at the last words.

Seeing seduction didn't work, she is now going for pleading and tears and she was so good at it. But I don't think she is really crying because she is more of a I make the other cry kind of a girl. Although some students can get a bit intense about their grades and genuinely be upset when they screw up, I know she doesn't belong to that category.

“Then, you will make up for that test with the one you have next week. If you work really hard on that assignment, it shouldn't be a problem since it is going to be on the same subject.”

I am almost sure that he let her private tutor do all the work and copies it without understanding a word, it won't be the first time. She is actually a very smart girl, she just hasn't decided to apply herself to math.

“Now if you would excuse me, I have class in a few minutes.”

Although I have plenty of time before my next class, I didn't want to continue this conversation.

“See you tomorrow.”  She didn't respond and stormed off, her teary expression gone in an instant and was replaced by the rage of not having what she wanted.

I went back to that staffroom to grade a few more papers before grabbing my things and going to my next class. Luckily, it is the last one for today since I am definitely not in the mood to be here. Don't get me wrong, I love teaching but the lack of sleep is taking its toll and I really need to test a few new ideas I had under the shower this morning for my research. I am trying to prove some hypothesis that was formulated by a scientist some many years ago and that is keeping me busy during a lot of my free time. My research allows me to continue doing advanced science since the curriculum I teach isn't very challenging for my brain. I have studied science for way longer than my students. I could have gone to the private sector and do some applied research or computer science like my best friend, Liam but I really love explaining things.

I find it very rewarding the feeling you get when one of these teenagers is stuck with some concept and finally understands it with one of your explanations. Liam doesn't really get it and always makes fun of me, saying I am overqualified to teach in this school and I should work in a big company to make a lot of money like he does. We met at the University and quickly became friends. Sadly he left the country just after graduation to work abroad. When I left the country as well, he was the one who found me an opportunity to work here in the big apple and I was really glad to reconnect with him again. That was a very bad period of my life, during which he helped me a lot to get better and I will be grateful to him for that.

My class was going pretty well despite my tiredness until I spotted one student texting, his cellphone on his knees. I don't understand why they think it is more discreet to use their phone like this. There are few activities involving the use of one or both hands beneath the table and they are pretty suspicious.

“Mr. Morelia, cell phone on my desk please.” I ordered.

He looked up at him with his beautiful eyes, his dark hair in a carefully controlled mess and his mischievous face. He is one of the most gorgeous students in this high school, a bit too young for my taste. He is a perfect student, straight A's, captain of the basketball team and takes part in the orchestra. His father is clearly grooming for one of the political posts in the state.

“I am sorry, sir. I let myself be distracted since you were explaining the same thing for the second time, I understood the first time.” He replied while standing and making his way to my desk.

He has a bit of a smart mouth and also takes part in the occasional fight as I have seen him several times with bruises he tried to hide.

“Are you saying that my class is boring?” I asked icily. Basically, he didn't, but I just wanted to make sure.

“No, sir, I wouldn't dare.” He replied, putting his phone on my desk. A few students chuckled, catching on his sarcasm.

Then, the smell of his breath and a bit of red in his eyes caught my attention. Of course, he is high, as if I wanted to deal with that today and it is neither the first nor the second time. I have let it pass since I believe he was just being a stupid brat, but I am sensing a dangerous pattern there and I feel I have to do something about it.

“Come and see me at the end of this class, Mr. Morelia.” I said as he returned back to his seat.

The rest of the class went undisturbed and I was soon alone in the class with a little junkie. I could just give him his cellphone back and pretend not to have noticed that he smoked weed just before going to class, several times on top of that. But I really can't stand it when a brilliant student throws his future away, so I feel compelled to do something. Sometimes, I really hate my conscience.

“You will get your phone in a bit, Mr. Moreli. But first, I would like to impress on you the severity of what you did.”

“Oh come on, sir.” He muttered.

“I know my comments were a bit out of line, but I didn't say anything wrong.”

“I am not talking about the fact that you replied to me like a brat, although, you should watch that smart mouth of yours. But, I am talking about the fact that you come to my class as high as a kite.”

“I don't know what you are talking about.” He lied, but the fact that his body tensed is a bit of a confession in itself.

“Don't take me for a fool, Mr. Moreli. You are reeking of weed and this is not the first time. If I were to report this and a search were conducted in your belongings, are you sure they wouldn't find anything?”

“Please, sir. Don't do this.” He turned pale.

Of course, he has his drugs on him or in his locker. Teenage boys can be so stupid sometimes.

“Although, I don't find this habit particularly healthy.” I continued.

“I couldn't care less about what you do in your free time and outside school. Should another teacher have found you in this state and reported this, do you have any idea how it could have compromised your plans for college?”

“I am really sorry, sir. I won't do it again.” He mumbled.

“Would you like to explain to me why you felt the need to smoke before going to class?”

“Not, really…” he sulks.

“You are right, it was stupid.”

“You will have to do better than that, young man. Unless I have a valid explanation and if I don't see you take action to not let that happen again, I will notify your family.”

That would be mean of me, but come on, I need a bit more than an empty promise to let him off the hook.

“Please, don't tell my father.” He begged, now completely livid.

“He is out of town anyway.”

Yes, fathers are mostly always out of town when the teachers need them. Pretty convenient if you ask me.

“Then talk to me.”

I don't know why I am pursuing this, it is really not my problem if he is behaving like a spoiled child and throwing away his future. But there is something off with him, I can't pinpoint what exactly, but I feel like I have to act.

“I just had fun with some friends, I am sorry and it won't happen again.”

“That is what I thought the first time I saw you high in my class and just because I didn't say anything does not mean I didn't notice it. Now this is the fourth time I see you in this state, for all I know, you are smoking at every lunch break every day and my colleagues just haven't noticed anything.” He shifted awkwardly in his seat.

His reaction is all the proof I needed, now I really can't let this go and I sighed inwardly.

“There has to be something to trigger this kind of behavior, so please talk to me.” I tried more gently.

He sat there, eyes lowered, twisting his hands and staying mute.

“Then, you leave me no choice, Mr. Moreli.” I sighed.

“I will have to call your father.”

I really don't want to do that, for all I know, his trouble could come from home and telling his father could be the worst thing to do.

“Please, not my father.”