"Mr. Iron Ball," huh? What a ridiculously stupid name. And to think, by the time I walk into the classroom in the morning, everyone's already using it.
"Alright, everyone, take your seats! Homeroom is about to start. Oh, and I see Mr. Iron Ball is here too!"
"Hahaha!"
Fracter Osmond, our homeroom teacher, entered the classroom from the front door. I get it now. This was your doing.
The students quickly settled back into their seats. Meanwhile, I'm sitting there thinking, "Stop calling me Iron Ball... don't let this catch on..." But honestly, a part of me was happy to be acknowledged by everyone. It was a confusing mix of emotions—embarrassment, a little happiness, and, given how isolated I'd been, a touch of loneliness knowing I didn't have anyone to complain to as I returned to my seat.
