Mr. Louis and I

    I raced through the hallways, attempting to keep all my books, binders, loose papers, and notebooks from crashing down, given the fact they lurched with every step. Sure enough, my foot slipped on the faux tile floor, and all of my school stuff, as well as myself, tumbled to the floor.

    I groaned as I pulled History of the Ancient World off my face and tossed it to the side. I ran a hand through my soft brown hair and sat up with another groan. What a great impression I was making at my new school.

    Someone from behind pulled me up to my feet and started picking up all my things. I turned towards him in surprise and realized it was my first period teacher, Mr. Louis. I kept my eyes downcast as I muttered, “Thank you, sir.”

    “I assume you’re Guinevere Johnson?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re very late to my class, Miss Johnson.”

I winced. “Yes, sir, I had trouble with my locker, sir. I’m sorry.”

He handed me my books. “Well, come along then, Miss Johnson. We both should return to class.” I nodded, but struggled to hide my surprise that he wasn’t punishing me for being late and disrupting his class,  considering he had to come out into the hallway to help me.

He strode back into class while I shuffled in, quietly, behind him, struggling to escape notice. Of course, it was pointless. People had heard me and my books fall, and I had caused their teacher to leave the room. And, I’m a new student. Of course they were going to stare and me. I just wanted to wilt.

I took the seat furthest back from the front of the room as Mr. Louis took his place behind his desk. It was the middle of the semester for them, so there would be no reviewing everything I had missed while switching schools.

“Everyone, the young lady who has just entered is your new classmate, Guinevere Johnson. She moved here from Seattle, and doesn’t know anyone here. So if you could be kind enough to befriend her and show her the ropes and rules we have here at Jackson High. Now, one of you, Stephanie, you’re closest to her, share your book with her as we read through chapters 11-15. You may continue.”

The girl with bleached blonde hair and heavy make up flashed a smile at me as she moved into the desk next to mine. “Hi! I’m Stephanie Bixler! But you can call me Steph! So, you came from Seattle? Was it cold? Did it rain a lot?”

I sighed.

“What a cool name! Guinevere! That sounds so royal and medieval and so cool! Stephanie is just . . . phooey. But Guinevere is so elegant and amazing!”

“Call me Gwen.” I muttered, not half as enthusiastic as the girl who giggled on my left. This was going to be a long class.

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    By the time lunch came around, I could’ve easily won an award for the most unorganized student in all of history. My papers were falling out, dividers tearing, and covers of paperbacks crumpled. I crammed the whole mess into my locker and managed to slam the door shut with only two papers sliding out onto the floor which was no minor achievement.

    I shoved my hands into my pockets as I joined the ocean of high schoolers wading towards the cafeteria. I glanced at the posters about walking on the right side of the hallway, at the banners sporting the motto: ‘Jackson Proud’. My gaze ran over all the blank, expressionless faces, and inwardly chuckled as I thought about how the brochure had promised that the school spirit would be tangible.

    As the juniors filtered into the cafeteria, a hand clasped my shoulder, causing me to jump and whirl around. Stephanie was standing before me, grinning. “C’mon Guinevere! It gets so crowded in the cafeteria. I’m a teacher’s aid so I get special dispensation--”

    “That’s nice. And don't call me Gui--”

    “And so I get to eat in the teachers’ lounge!” She continued, not seeming to pick up on the hint that I didn’t care. “So, I get to bring a few friends to come and eat with me, and since you’re new here and all, and I’m supposed to be nice to you and stuff, what if you came and ate with me at the teachers’ lounge?”

    I have to admit, I was a bit shocked and surprised that I had been included and thought of. “Uh . . . don’t you have other friends to invite?” I asked tentatively.

    “Course I do! But they’re already in there. We’re all waiting for you! C’mon!” She giggled. And so, more than a little bit in shock, that was how I found myself in the tightest knit clique of popular girls, whom I’d regularly never associate with.

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    After a lunch that mainly consisted of my silence while the girls (and two guys) at the table exchanged rumors and gossiped. One of the guys was definitely gay, and the other was schooched so close to the girl to his left that it was clear the only reason he was here was to be with her.

    Not surprisingly, the food was just as bad as the cafeteria food I practically lived off of in Seattle. As I listened to the mindless chatter, I heard the door swing open and a few teachers came in: Mr. Louis and my math teacher, Mrs. Grey.

    I looked up as they entered, determined to believe that whatever they were doing to occupy their time surely had to be better than who Carter Sampson was dating and whether or not Stacy Carson was sleeping with the quarterback.

    Mr. Louis was talking in a low tone, specifically designed for students to be deaf to. Being a teacher, I suppose he had a lot of practice with eavesdropping students. Mrs. Grey nodded and laughed lightly at something he said. She poured herself a cup of coffee as Mr. Louis smiled and went to the cabinet near where I sat. He opened it and took out a pill bottle.

    “Headache?” I asked, stunned at my sudden attempt at conversation.

    He glanced at me and smiled warmly. “Ah, yes. Guinevere. I’m glad you’ve found a group of friends already.” He cast his gaze over my company. “They’re nice kids. Most of them. By that I mean . . . ah, well, their hearts are in the right place.”

    I nodded, thinking I got was he was saying. “And, please sir, if you don’t mind, Gwen. Just Gwen. Not Guinevere. I don’t think Stephanie has quite grasped that concept.”

    He chuckled and popped two tablets in his mouth, downing them with some iced water. “She’s a stubborn one, that’s for sure. But when you get through to her, you’ll be pleasantly surprised. She’s really quite brilliant.”

    I couldn’t help but snort in disbelief. “Is that right?”

    He nodded solemnly. There was a moment of awkward silence before he regarded me and paused. “Gwen? You’re being thrust into this school without any preparation. Surely you aren’t caught up to where we are academic wise. We skipped a few chapters ahead. So, perhaps, I could start giving you afternoon classes. So you could get caught up. Just until you’re up to where we are.”

    Once again, I was stunned that I was being thought of by someone else. Someone else was actually concerned for my well-being and my education. I smiled. “I’d love that, Mr. Louis. Thank you.”

    He returned the smile. “Not a problem. Shall we start today?”