Damaged Love // A Joker Origin Story

Chapter 3

For it being the first day of school, it really has dragged on. I can already tell from just sitting in this classroom and hearing the teacher groan about what is unacceptable within her classroom that this is going to be my least favorite class this year. I lean back in my chair with a sigh. Anatomy or science, for that matter, have never been my strong suits. That's more Cassandra's forte. After we graduate, she wants to get a nursing degree and eventually one day work at Gotham General as a labor and delivery nurse, which I think will be perfect for her. Bruce has offered me a position at Wayne Enterprises after graduation that I am considering. It'll be nice to learn more about the company my father owned; I'd like to be more involved in the future with it because I believe I can bring something to the table. What that is, I don't know yet.

Everyone around me is working silently on an assignment that was given to us today by our teacher, Mrs. Miller. I've only ever heard awful things about her from previous graduates; however, I am not one to judge a book by its cover. She is an older lady, in her sixties or early seventies, if I had to assume, which makes me wonder as to why she hasn't retired yet, but who knows? She'll probably be here until the day she dies. My thoughts come to a halt at the sound of the wooden door of the classroom being knocked on. Mrs. Miller shuffles towards the door, her shoes sliding against the grimy tile floors.

She opens the door, revealing the last person I thought I would see again that day. Dirty blonde curls sit messily on his forehead. His hand grips the strap to his black bag hanging off his left shoulder, keeping it from slipping.

"Yes? What do you need?" My teacher asks, seeming to be a little irritated that her class was being interrupted.

"Uh, Principal Alders sent me here; this is supposed to be my new class the rest of the year," Jack states, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of yellow paper. He handed it to her, and she plucked it from his grip. I watch as her eyes go back and forth as she carefully reads the note. After reading the information, she places it on her desk and turns back to Jack, a judgmental look plastered on her face. I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion, then glance at Jack, who seems to be already bored with the conversation.

"Mr. Napier, I do not tolerate or have time for bad behavior in my class. Mr. Eckerson may have, but I will not. If you are disruptive or out of line in my classroom, you will be given detention. Are we clear?" Mrs. Miller firmly states, the class intently listening to the conversation. The clock ticking on the front wall of the classroom is all I hear. "I said, are we clear?" She repeats her question, the silence in the classroom deafening.

Jack stands still, his eyes like burning coal, staring into her own serious ones. I can't help but snicker at the situation, the whole thing being so stupid that there is nothing left to do but laugh. Jack's flirtatious persona from earlier is gone, and a more serious one takes its place. I shift my gaze to Mrs. Miller, and she gives Jack a warning look. He finally gives in and nods slightly.
"Good, here is your assignment; it is due Friday. If it is late, I will throw it in the trash, and you will get no credit for it. Now you will sit next to..." She hands him a small stack of papers and peers around at the available spaces, trying to decide where to place him. I look down at my assignment, hoping her bad eyesight will do me some good right now. 'Not me, please not me.' I close my eyes tightly as I think to myself.

"Miss Wayne," she calls from across the room. I sigh and lift my head up to meet her dull, gray eyes. "Mr. Napier will sit next to you the rest of the semester. I suggest you both keep to yourselves, or you'll both find yourself in detention together." She turns around and settles back into her chair behind her desk.

My eyes find their way to Jack, who is already staring at me with a look of surprise, not expecting me to be in this class. I break the awkward eye contact and plant my eyes on the scattered papers to stop myself from blushing yet again. I hear footsteps not a second later, and the screeching of a chair against the dirty floor fills the quiet room. From the corner of my eye, a bag drops with a thump on the black table, and the figure sits with a heavy sigh. I try my best not to glance over at him in curiosity.