“Ladies and gentleman, your attention, please,” Mr. Mavis said as he sat on top of his desk facing the room. “This is Basic Health, room 228, and I am Mr. Mavis. Please make sure you are in the right place before I pass around the sign-in sheet.”
As the room rumbled with the slight murmur of students checking their schedules, Lauren’s attention went back to the boy sitting across from her; his eyes were downcast, watching his fingers twirl a pen in dexterous, complicated patterns.
Mr. Mavis put the sign-in sheet down on Lauren’s desk, and she wrote her name neatly on the top before passing it to Jenn, who nudged her and then gestured with her head in Keith Wagner’s direction before rolling her eyes. Lauren nodded and rolled her eyes in agreement, and as Jenn looked down at the sign-in sheet, Lauren looked back to the boy across the room. She had no idea what it was about him that kept grabbing her attention; nothing in particular made him stand out. Broad-shouldered, dark-haired, and wearing some sort of nondescript gray T-shirt and a baseball hat turned backward, he looked just like any other boy.
He stared at the pen weaving in and out of his fingers, completely expressionless, and Lauren watched the movement of his hand for a moment before she raised her eyes back to his face. And in that instant, she suddenly realized what was so intriguing about him.
He wasn’t expressionless at all.
His face was placid, almost indifferent, but there was something just behind his eyes that betrayed that cool composure. She was suddenly reminded of a class trip she’d taken in fifth grade; her teacher had brought them to a pond that was completely serene, as smooth and still as a sheet of glass, but when they inserted a tiny camera just beneath the surface, it revealed this unrestrained, tumultu the hell is this?”, leous world of fish and plants and organisms whirling and crashing and spinning out of control, totally hidden beneath the deceptively unruffled exterior.
It was fascinating.
And there he sat, looking outwardly composed, and all she could think of was that pond. Because something about him, something in his eyes, divulged the secret; there was a whole world in there somewhere, thriving just below the surface where no one could see it.
“Alright everyone, good afternoon,” Mr. Mavis finally said once the sign-in sheet was circulating. “As I said before, this is Basic Health, and in the next ten weeks we will be discussing both the positive and negative external influences that can affect the human body, from exercise to nutrition, from diseases to drugs and alcohol, to sexual intercourse and everything in between. This class is heavily rooted in discussion, but you will also be asked to take notes, so if you do not already have a notebook designated for this class, please get one by the end of the week.”
At that moment, the boy with the backward hat lifted his gaze, making eye contact with Lauren, and her stomach lurched as she ripped her eyes from his. She could feel the heat blooming on her cheeks, and she hoped he wasn’t still looking at her; getting caught staring was bad enough without her blush giving a voice to her humiliation.
As Mr. Mavis continued with his class overview, Lauren picked up her pen and began doodling on the page in front of her, determined not to look up at him again. She chewed on her lower lip, slowly etching the outline of a flower in the upper right-hand corner of the page, and after a minute she finally felt the warmth begin to leave her cheeks.
“Our first unit will be the alcohol unit, and later this week a few representatives from the SADD organization will be coming to give us a presentation on the dangers of driving while intoxicated.”
“Mr. Mavis?”
Lauren closed her eyes and exhaled a breathy laugh. Keith Wagner. That didn’t take long at all.
“Yes?”
“Do we have to do this every year? I mean, we’ve been getting drilled on the dangers of alcohol since middle school.”
“While I appreciate the fact that your past educational experiences have resonated with you, I assure you that the information and stories you’ll hear in this class are not only new, but relevant,” Mr. Mavis responded. “Especially considering the fact that many of you are now of the age to be driving.”
“Yes, but still,” Keith went on, and Lauren occupied herself by imagining what Keith’s face would look like if a teacher finally told him to shut the hell up for once. “We get it. We all know a person would have to be a complete idiot to get behind the wheel of a car while drunk. I don’t think any of us are that stupid.”
The sudden sound of a chair screeching against the floor followed by a deafening bang caused Lauren to jump nearly out of her seat, and she lifted her eyes quickly, immediately freezing as she took in the scene.
The boy with the backward hat was standing, and the desk in front of Keith was gone, overturned somewhere on the other side of the room.
Keith sat completely immobilized, gripping the sides of his chair as he stared up at the boy, looking terrified and utterly exposed. The boy with the hat loomed above him, his jaw clenched and his eyes murderous.
What had she missed?
She was vaguely aware that Mr. Mavis was saying something to the boy with the hat, but she couldn’t make it out { display: block; font-size: g le. Everything outside of the scene she was witnessing became fuzzy background noise; she was completely frozen, her eyes pinned on the boy, watching the way he trembled with his fists clenched at his sides. She couldn’t be sure if it was a sign of restraint or impending explosion.
Mr. Mavis flew to the phone mounted on the wall by the door, and Lauren thought she heard him asking for Mr. Banks, although she knew that couldn’t be right. Mr. Banks was the guidance counselor; it was Mr. DeCarlo, the assistant principal, who handled discipline. She remembered that from orientation.
Before she could even make sense of what was happening, the boy with the hat whirled around suddenly, and Lauren flinched as he stormed past her toward the door. In one fell swoop, he yanked it open and charged out, slamming it closed behind him so forcefully that she thought the glass would rattle out of its pane and crash to the floor.
And then the room was silent.
For a long moment no one moved, and Lauren exhaled a shaky breath as her shoulders slowly dropped away from her ears.
She looked across the room at Keith, who was trying to play it off like he was unfazed, but the faint traces of panic remained etched on his face. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Mavis hurry over to his desk and frantically scribble something on a sheet of paper.
He stood quickly, folding it as he walked over to Lauren’s desk, the closest one to the door. “Please take this to Mr. Banks’ office immediately,” he murmured as he placed the note in her hand, and Lauren nodded as she pushed her chair back and exited the room of students still stunned into silence.
She walked swiftly through the hall, her heart still pounding with leftover adrenalin, but when she glanced down at the paper in her hand, her pace instantly slowed. She licked her lips nervously as her eyes darted around the empty hallway, and then she looked back down at the note.
It would be wrong to do it. She knew that.
She pressed her lips together as she glanced around one more time, and then before she could talk herself out of it, she cut to the left and darted into the stairwell.
Lauren took a deep breath, internally scolding herself as she unfolded the note with shaking hands.
Michael Delaney was just triggered. He left class and is somewhere in the building.
“Triggered?” Lauren whispered, her brow pulled together.
She folded the note quickly, exiting the stairwell and continuing down the hall to Mr. Banks’ office. His secretary smiled up at her sweetly as she approached.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, this is a note from Mr. Mavis. It’s urgent.”
“Thank you. Mr. Banks is in a meeting right now, but I’ll see that he gets it immediately,” she said, taking the note and smiling up at her again.