It's Thursday, and I feel entitled to one good day dammit! I set up my laptop and wait for first period. When mom learned why I came home with stitches last night, I was convinced that I would have to bail her out of jail this morning.
She just smiled and said, "That's my girl, and that's what his ass gets." That's really all she and I had time to talk about before I had to leave for work.
"Miss Bolton, what happened to your hand?" Cotter asks as she carries her drawing from her cubby to one of the tables.
"I punched a guy." I answer honestly.
"Are you ok?" She ask with concern.
I look into her deep brown eyes. "Yeah. I had to do what I had to do. He tried to attack me." I shrug and tell her honestly.
The bell rings and the other students shuffle in and set their backpacks on the floor before collecting their artwork. Suddenly, I get this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, like shit is about to hit the fan. Not today, Lord, please not today, I pray.
I take attendance and find myself wondering how Mrs. Farley's recovery is going. Donating a kidney must hurt like hell.
About fifteen minutes passes, I'm making a list of things I need to take with me on our trip. Music plays softly in the background as the students work on the drawing. Ginny's color pencil portrait of Stitch is coming along nicely. He's pure black which makes it hard to emphasize other features, like his eyes, but she's killing it.
"You son of a bitch, stop harassing Bailey!" Samuel screams, throwing himself across the table onto Xander.
They're both tall, lean boys, basically all knees and elbows. It's like watching two young bucks fighting over territory. Sam punches Xander in the jaw, hard. Xander throws him off and retaliates by punching him in the nose.
"It's not my fault that you have a tiny dick, Sam!." Xander shouts.
I run to the wall and hit the button that rings the main office. "Yes, how may I help you?" Mrs. Janson says.
"I need Mr. Dudley down here immediately." I say as calmly as possible.
Despite me calling for the principle, the two boys continue slugging on each other. I'm not allowed to put my hands on them to pull them apart. I'm trying not to have a meltdown. No, I'm in control, I remind myself.
I walk up next to them and stomp my foot. "Samuel! Xander! I order you to stop it, now!"
The look up at me with bloodied faces and scoff.
"Stay out of this Miss Bolton." Xander spits up blood.
My dad taught me that in the face of opposition, don't back down. I crouch down until I'm in their faces. "I. Said. Stop. It. Now." I order through gritted teeth. Funny thing about me is, when I'm livid, my eyes go from grey to almost black.
They slowly rise to their feet, and so do I.
Mr. Dudley walks into the room, and folds his arms across his chest as he assesses the situation. "Sam. Xander. My office now." He orders. "You'll need to write them up Miss Bolton. Sorry about all this." He nods, escorting the boys out of the room.
The rest of the class stares at me in disbelief. "Get back to work." I growl as I head back to my desk.
Lovely, now I have to do two write ups. Paperwork is a pain in my ass.
Damn teenagers. I can tell this is going to be one hell of a day.