Freshman

Chapter 39: The Bully

"Oh snap," I sighed heavily. "Not another one."

"Yup, it's another one." Hasha patted my back. "And this time- it's a girl."

"Crap."

I was at the far end of the buzzing crowd who was eager to know the gossip about the ongoing scandal. The scandal in which was caused by none other than the one who starts every scandal, argument, and fight in the class- Biclone.

"Hey," I nudged the student beside me. "Who's it this time?"

"It's Keith," Camomile answered. "Keith was the one who got into it this time."

"Oh hey Camomile!" I greeted. "Didn't know you were there. Did I hit you too hard?"

"Hey ¹tita," she responded. "Nah, I'm fine. What brings you here?"

"Oh you know- the gosssip and the scandal," I shrugged. "The very juicy and awfully intriguing scandal."

From the center of the crowd, I started to hear wailing and sobbing- it wasn't feminine, but somewhat a little bit masculine. I peeked further, and saw a glimpse of somwone's tears. Not Keith's tears, but Biclone's.

This was nothing unusual for us. Biclone had the most tears shed this term alone. He started some arguments and conflicts because of simple misunderstandings and disagreements. He just simply couldn't handle the adversity with maturity, that's why he ends up in tears.

"Leave me alone!" Biclone cried. "I just wanted that seat!"

"For God's sake, you can't have it even if I let you!" Keith retorted. "It's Math class, idiot! I'm supposed to sit there!"

"Well you could've asked me nicely!"

"Grow up!" Keith bantered. "You pulled my hair! What are you? A girl?"

"I am most certainly not!"

"Weenie!" Keith teased. "Gay! Busy body! Fatty!"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

"What in the name of-" Ms. Cassanero abruptly opens the door. "What is going on here?! All of you sit down! Biclone? Keith? Go back to your seats! Except for you two! Remain standing!"

Everyone reshuffled and straddled on their seats in quietude. Everything was placid, sedentary, and restful. Nothing stirred but Ms. Cassanero's legs pacing back and forth as she eyed us suspiciously.

"Biclone!" Ms. Cassanero called shrilly. "What have you done this time?"

He stood still on the spot, with tears flowing from his eyes like an endless waterfall. His face started to glow with an concentrated crimson red. This was nothing particularly arcane, we were used to his three stages of rage and remorse.

The first stage- he starts to turn red, the second stage- he begins to tear up, and the third stage- he succumbs defeat. It takes a while for him to reach the third stage. It takes him at least a couple of days, or probably weeks for to rue the things that he has done.

"Don't give me that Biclone!" Ms. Cassanero commanded. "Tell me this instant. What. Happened. To. You?"

His tears started to flow far more rapidly than earlier- to the point where the tears started to drip on his polo shirt. Yet still, he did not reply to the teaching facilitator's question.

"So it's going to be like that now," Ms. Cassanero frowned. "Keith, explain this tragedy."

"He started it!"

"Nuh uh! She did!"

"You pulled my hair!"

"You stole my seat!"

"Alright! Alright!" Ms. Cassanero scolded. "That's enough out of you two! Did someone from the class actually see this little dispute?"

"I may have a word or two to say Ms. Cassanero," Aaron stood. "I've been drawing on my desk once I noticed the little tiff."

"Then go ahead," Ms. Cassanero folded her arms. "Explain."

"It was nothing big, really." He shrugged. "It was after break time when we started to part from our Math class seating arrangement when Biclone was still talking to Carmela on that table-" he pointed at the group of tables in front of him. "-When suddenly Keith came rolling around, lugging her back to Biclone's seat. She had said 'move along you big galoot! It's time for MAPE classes.' Biclone stood, not at all pleased, and took a strand of her hair then pulled it abruptly. Knowing Biclone's strength, let's just say it wasn't at all a pretty sight."

Ms. Cassanero flashed a scowl at the two. "Continue, Aaron."

"I have no more to say," he shrugged. "A crowd started to form in front of me after that."

"Miss," Ello raised his hand. "If I may-"

"You've witnessed the fight?" Ms. Cassanero's eyes beamed. "Go ahead then, explain."

"No, I need to go to the bathroom."

"No, Ello! Sit down." She reprimanded. "Can anyone else continue the narrative?"

"I, Ms. Cassanero," CJ stood. "After the crowd had formed, they started to bicker and lightly injure each other through punches and-uh, pinching?"

Ms. Cassanero raised a brow. "You punched a girl, Biclone?"

"No, miss." Keith scowled. "I punched him, and he pinched me."

"Are the things said by your classmates true?" Ms. Cassanero asked sincerely.

The two nodded their heads sullenly in unison with their hands tucked away in their pockets.

"Well, then," Ms. Cassanero unraveled a form in her laptop bag. "Both of you have committed a level three misbehavior. I shall record this in the ¹CMR, as you have already expected."

She stepped towards the door. "And I also need both of you to come with me to the School Head's Office and write a narrative about your dispute earlier."

She opened the door and gestured for them to follow her. They sullenly stepped out of the classroom with only a pen and paper in hand to make the narrative.

"Compose yourselves until I get back, 7B." Ms. Cassanero instructed. "Or else, it's the CMR for all of you."

She shut the door behind her, and left us with yet another uncomfortable silence.

"God, how much events had already happened in this term?" I sighed heavily. "After Vauld and Mavie, the door, and everything else."

"If I were to sum it up," Hasha calculated. "It'd be a one hell of a truck full of events, Aria. One hell of a truck full."

¹CMR - Class Misbehavior Record. Basically a long notebook that contains all of our violations and misbehaviors in the classroom.