The Grump I Despise (When In Waverly 3)

I take the roundabout way to get to my classroom since he was kind enough to get in the way of the direct route. I had no idea he was a teacher. He seems like the least likely person to enjoy working with young, impressionable children. Does he like kids? Does he even like people? Good grief, his students must live in perpetual terror of him. Poor dears. We should form a support group for them.

I walk into my room, flip the lights on, and take a good look around. It’s just as I remember it from a few days ago. The walls are a bit bare and boring. I’ll have to add some color to make the room more cheery and exciting to get the students in the mood for analyzing literary classics.

I toss my bags onto my desk and sit in the ancient rolling chair to take a moment to calm my nerves before students begin arriving. My head is starting to pound, and I really wish I would have taken a moment to grab some coffee. But coffee makes me pee incessantly, and I didn’t want to have to deal with that on top of my jittery nerves all morning. I’m regretting that decision now. I pop an ibuprofen and begin organizing today’s assignments.

I’ve planned to keep today relaxed since the kids will be on a high from their two-week holiday break, and I need time to get acquainted with them. The only thing planned is to have all the students introduce themselves to me by telling me their name and what they like to do with their free time, and I’ll introduce their new reading assignment. Easy peasy…hopefully. My shaking hands would disagree about the ease of what’s ahead. What if this school is full of ruffians, and someone decides to start a mutiny because they hate the book? In the back of my mind, I know this is Waverly, Texas, so it’s highly unlikely. But I haven’t lived here in years; things could have taken a sharp turn for the worse. Maybe that’s why Colby Stuart is teaching here. I bet he thrives in a gloomy environment.

Before I know it, there are students walking around the halls, talking, laughing, and catching up from their two weeks away. Two boys throw a football back and forth right outside my doorway before another teacher takes the ball, putting an end to their fun. Students begin trickling into my room, giving me curious glances. I make a mad dash to the bathroom because my bladder didn’t need coffee to put it into overdrive. My nerves are doing just fine with that on their own.

I check my hair in the mirror and wet my hand a little to try to tame a few curls that didn’t survive the intense wind outside. Wind isn’t kind to us curly-haired girls…really, weather in general isn’t kind to us. Any kind. It’s rough out there.

I make it back to my classroom right as the bell rings, and twenty-two faces all turn to watch me. I fold my hands behind my back and begin my first day back to teaching in six months.