Sam Campbell needed to escape, escape from her life, her messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks she couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known her and Cam, had known her shame and failure. So, she took the first job she could get, teac...
"Hey Lance, can you wait just a moment? I'd like to have a word with you," Sam called out as the dismissal bell rang and her class leapt from their seats, backpacks on, ready and eager to get out the door and seize what was left of this beautiful day.
Lance, sandy haired, blue eyed bully that he was trudged toward her desk with clear annoyance on his face. In her eight years of teaching, Sam had never met a child she didn't like. Sure, some of them were tougher than others but a lot of times it was simply because they needed some love and attention or they were struggling due to a learning disability and their frustration came out as misbehavior. Sometimes it was a struggle to control their big emotions and they would have to work through various coping strategies, learning the proper way to handle those big feelings raging in their small bodies.
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She'd always been good at building relationships with kids, letting them know how much she cared about them, that she was on their side, and she wanted them to do well. She was skilled at getting to the bottom of the behavior so they could be successful whether that meant lunches with her so the kid could talk things out or tutoring after school so they could become proficient with the skills they were missing. It was something she took pride in, the thing she felt was most important about the job she'd chosen.
No. Sam had never not liked a student before but Lance, he was pushing it. He was so damn hard to like and that made her feel uneasy. It gave her that sick, twisted feeling in her stomach. What kind of teacher didn't like all of her students? What kind of human didn't like a child? Because that was what he was at the end of the day. Yes, he was mean. He was a bully. But he was still just a boy and she couldn't stop trying to reach him no matter if it felt like slamming her head against a wall.
"Yeah Ms. Campbell?" he asked, his tone meant to convey to her that he was bored with this conversation already and would like nothing more than to be done with it so he could leave. "Whatever it is, you better hurry. My dad is going to be waiting for me outside and he's going to be mad if I'm not out there."
"I am sure Mr. Johnson will understand that I needed a minute to talk to you," Sam assured him, but she wasn't actually sure of that.
Mr. Johnson seemed to think his time was far more valuable than anyone else's as evidenced by the way he kept glancing at his watch last month when they'd met about Lance's behavior that hadn't yet changed. It was apparent in the way he'd dismissed his behavior as just 'boys will be boys.' The very reminder of that conversation made her cringe. There was nothing worse than a father who wanted to perpetuate the stereotype that cruelty and violence were okay, that being a boy was a valid excuse for being a bully.
"You know, we have talked multiple times about the way you speak to and treat Charlie. It's unacceptable, Lance. This classroom is a safe space for every child who walks through that door and you're not making this a safe space for him."
"Why should I?" he snorted with a roll of his eyes. "Charlie's nothing but a freak and everyone knows it."
As soon as he said that word, Sam felt her face flush hot with anger. It was like a volcano buried in the depths of her soul was suddenly brought to the surface, threatening to erupt all over this child. Eddie's face as he spat that word, as he stated that was how the whole town saw him, flashed before her eyes and Sam had to remind herself that she was speaking to a nine year old. This kid was not speaking about Eddie but she refused to allow another child to grow up with the same tormented look in their eyes, the same armor coating them to keep them safe from the hateful words spat by ignorant people.
