“Morning, Vic!” Peter Dansen, a PE teacher and one of my colleagues whom I highly dislike, called in a cheery voice.
“It’s Victor, Peter. Victor.” I growled, ignoring his friendly tone.
He might be putting on a nice front, but I know he certainly doesn’t like me. I’ve heard him discussing ‘Weird old Vic’ in the Teacher’s Lounge – even though I was the youngest teacher there, at 26. Ah well, the feeling was mutual. I hated most of the other teachers here. Apart from Hunter. But he was okay. Well, more than okay really. He was my friend. He didn’t judge me, didn’t join in with the ‘Weird old Vic’ talk. He hated them all as much as I did.
But apart from Hunter Evans, the elder Art teacher, all of the other teachers were idiots. None understood or appreciated my work. Nor did the children; they too commented behind my back about my ‘weirdness’ (but using more blunt terms, as teenagers did). So why was I working here then, you’re probably wondering? Why was I working in a dead-end job where everyone disliked me, I received low pay and was totally underappreciated and looked down upon? Well here’s why – because I was a Biology teacher, I got free access, whenever I wanted, to the large Biology lab.
Biology’s where my passion lay. I’d always loved it – as a child I would lock myself up in my attic bedroom and study, or sit at the bottom of the garden and record my findings about an animal that had nested there.
“Oh, sorry Vic – Victor. I’m always getting stuff like that mixed up. Forgive me, mate!” Peter smiled, but the minute he thought I was looking away I saw him twirl his fingers around his head in a ‘crazy’ motion to Deputy Head Doris Walker.
“Tosser.” I muttered, scowling down at my test papers that I was marking at the time.
They were shocking. One bloody pupil could hardly spell his name, let alone do a test. Sometimes I wondered why I bothered teaching them anything at all. I could just sit them all in a room and put a Barney The Dinosaur DVD on and they’d learn better.
However there was one paper that made me smile. Ameera Chandra. She was an outcast, like I was as a child – who also had a passion for Science. She was practically the only pupil I was confident that enjoyed my class. I knew she’d do well when she grew up. Only...I saw a lot of myself in her. This hurt me when I considered this, because I was worried that she’d end up like me: lonely. Ameera didn’t appear to have any friends then, so what was to say she’d have a booming social life when she was older? Nothing. That’s what made me worry.
I smiled softly to myself then. Maybe I was becoming soft.
“Morning, Victor.” Hunter smiled, taking his usual place next to me on the sofa.
“Hi.” I looked up, giving him a friendly wave. Hunter and Ameera were the only ones in the whole wretched school I was willing to be friendly towards. Oh, and the nice old Betty White-esque dinner lady. She was great.
“Marking again?”
“Yes. I tell you, Hunter, sometimes I feel like my class is the worst. I’ve never said this about a class I’ve taught, but this year they seem so apathetic and un-hardworking that they come across as well, dare I say, moronic? I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but –”
“Oh, not at all! 10C are famed for their – well, how do I put this delicately...low ability. They’re the sort of kids that don’t try. I had them last year. Apart from Ameera Chandra they weren’t a brilliant class.” Hunter took a long sip from his coffee, then looked up. “Hey, have you heard about the new teacher?”
“No, nor do I care.” I replied without looking up, making Hunter laugh.
“No, I mean it!” He chuckled. “This one sounds interesting. Our sort of person.”
