The weight of every fear, every sorrow, seemed to solidify within the sterile walls of first period US History.
Despite a frantic sprint to reach school before the bell, I arrived seven minutes late. The halls were gloriously empty, a small mercy.
Reaching the classroom door, I paused, forcing a deep breath. I was letting anxiety build, and a panic attack was the last thing I needed.
Steeling myself, I reached for the door handle and pulled it open.
Mrs. Robinson paused mid-lecture, her gaze landing on me. Every eye in the room followed suit. I averted my gaze, unable to meet their stares.
“Sorry I’m late,” I mumbled, my voice barely audible.
“That’s fine, Mr. Decker. Take a seat,” she said, her tone neutral.
Finally, I raised my eyes to scan the class.
Normally, I sat in the back with the soccer guys, but their expressions now suggested I was no longer welcome.
The only open seats were in the front row. I hesitated, then moved toward the one with the fewest hostile faces nearby.
“Now then,” the teacher continued, “this project will count as your final exam, so don’t just blow it off until last minute. If you don’t complete it, you’ll be seeing me again next year. I won’t provide class time for it. This is an independent effort while I finish the last unit. Any questions?”
I remained silent, intending to ask about the project details after class. When no one spoke, she clapped her hands once. “Alright. The next ten minutes are for partners and topic selection. After that, I’ll resume lecturing on Chapter 14. Get going.”
Chaos erupted. Students scrambled to join friends, scraping chairs across the tile floor. I stayed put, knowing no one here would want me as a project partner.
“Mrs. Robinson?” A quiet voice called from beside me. I glanced over to see a small girl with rectangular glasses and a thin face. She was pretty, but in a way that faded into the background.
“Yes, Emma?”
“Can I work on this project on my own?” she asked softly.
Mrs. Robinson leaned closer to hear her. “I’d rather you had a partner for this one.”
“Oh,” she sounded disappointed. “What if everyone already has a partner?”
Mrs. Robinson scanned the room, her eyes landing on me. “Do you have a partner, Cole?”
A loaded question, to say the least.
I shook my head, signaling I did not.
“There. You can work with Cole,” she announced with a satisfied smile.
Emma sighed, then nodded. I found myself fidgeting with my pencil, avoiding eye contact with everyone, including my new partner.
Once the teacher returned to her desk, silence descended, thick with awkwardness. I glanced at Emma and found her staring at her folded hands.
Desperate to break the tension, I turned to her. “What’s the project about? I kind of missed that part of the lecture.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll do it,” she said in that small voice.
I frowned. “That’s not really fair, is it? You shouldn’t have to do all the work. I want to help.”
“Really?” She asked, tilting her head slightly, her brows furrowing. Still, she didn’t look at me.
“Yeah,” I shrugged, tapping my pencil eraser against the desk. “It’s my grade too.”
“Oh, um. We have to pick some part of history we’ve learned about this year and give a presentation on it. A PowerPoint or paper or something,” she hurried through the explanation.
“So what should we do it on?” I asked, my leg bouncing with anxiety.
Emma shrugged, fiddling with her fingers, avoiding my gaze.
I pursed my lips, reviewing the year’s lessons.
“How about the Salem Witch Trials?” I suggested. “I enjoyed learning about that.”
“Okay,” she agreed softly.
I leaned back in my chair, debating whether she was simply antisocial or if something else lay beneath the surface. She could be both.
We sat in silence again until Mrs. Robinson called everyone back to their seats. A murmur of grumbling filled the room as students separated from their friends, but once settled, she began her lecture on the Cold War.
I pulled out my notebook and started taking notes. Even with my late arrival, I wasn't off the hook for the next test. I fully intended to raise my grade before the year ended, to graduate on time. With that thought, I resolved to ask Mrs. Robinson for extra credit opportunities after the bell.
I definitely needed it.