It was two streets further along that it happened. I didn’t see her, I was too busy keeping my eyes glued to the pavement, but Mrs Hotter certainly ...aw me. “Darren!” she called out loudly, even though she was practically on top of me.Startled, I somehow lost my grip on the brown paper bag, which slipped from beneath my jacket. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it contrived to spill its contents onto the pavement in full view.“M-M-Mrs Hotter,” I stammered, stooping to reclaim the items, hoping. "Why, what are you going to do about it?" Justin challenges, glancing down at her prefect badge on her navy blazer. "You gonna report us?" Fucking arseholes," she grumbles to herself, snatching her artwork away from me as she kneels on the floor to sort through her things. "What did you call us?" Chris snarls, using his size to intimidate her by standing over her.Responding to the rapidly escalating situation, horrified by what I'm witnessing, I shove him back against the wall, caring little. I didnt want to. Reluctantly, we said goodbye and that wed see each other the next day. At the bottom of her garden path I waved and turned around. It was time to get home, and I really didnt want to go. **************************************************************************************************************************** I slowly walked home, thinking how nice Greg had been, and how wonderful Wendy was. Thinking about them, I felt happy, but I was going home, and for the most part, home. As I watched him sliding the papers into the top draw of his ddesk, I realised there just might be. After the last class of the day let out I snuck into the men’s room and waited. Our school, most people just called it Jacob Street High School, was pretty big; probably close the two thousand high school students passed through these halls every day. A recent survey said that we had more problem children in this one school then in the rest of the state put together. To those of us who.
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