The Run and Go

Jay 1.0

The sharp sound of a bell sliced through the classroom as I began packing my utensils and books into my bag. The hustle of students passing by my desk prevented me from standing up and leaving, so I stayed put. As soon as the last student passed my desk, a deep but gentle voice spoke to me.

"Hey Jay, could I talk to you for a minute?" he asked before handing me a tardy pass.

I slung my bag on my shoulder and grabbed the pass, sticking it in my pocket, "Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Mr. Gosher sat on the top of the desk, his right leg placed over his left. He placed his elbow below his knee and cupped his chin with his thumb and pointer finger. With a heavy sigh, Mr. Gosher started his mini monologue. I braced myself, not totally sure what was coming -- and not totally happy about being asked to stay behind.

"I can't say this without being awkward, but I'll try my best...I saw what those kids were doing to you at lunch. I reported them to the principal and that issue should be dealt with soon," he paused to grab a notecard and pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled something down. "I understand how difficult it can be to talk to teachers about, well, almost anything. But I want you to know that I'm available if you want to talk. I went through similar experiences back in high school and it hurts that kids still have to deal with them."

Mr. Gosher handed me his notecard and stood up, walking back to his desk. I turned the notecard over and saw a written message that said If you need someone to talk to, my office hours are 5 PM to 8 PM Monday Thru Friday. My head turned and faced him, shooting him a smile.

"Thank you," I said softly, slipping the notecard into my pocket.

I walked out the door and into the empty hallway. The trip to my locker was only a few paces from Mr. Gosher's classroom, so I was able to quickly swap books and materials and head to my next class.

"Do you have a pass, Mr. Miller?" asked Mrs. Langston with an annoyed tone, typical for her. As someone who despises having kids, anyone would wonder how she became a teacher.

I silently handed her my pass and went to my desk with my head down, unpacking my bag and retrieving my biochemistry book. I opened "Chapter 12: Genetics and Reproduction." Mrs. Langston drew her marker from her pocket and danced it across the whiteboard, connecting lines and circles that contained ideas and key points of the chapter. Her words grew stale as she failed to explain anything properly, so I plugged in my earbuds and turned on some music. Mrs. Langston shot me a glance but quickly went back to lecturing the class.

I turned my attention to my book and notes, writing down every vocabulary word and bullet point I could find. My papers filled easily with my inability to leave out any information that could be beneficial for studying. Studying was more of a hobby for me, not a chore. As my notes grew lengthy, the lead in my pencil snapped and everyone in the class shot looks at me.

"Have something to share with the class, Jay?" Mrs. Langston barked at me, crossing her arms and staring into my soul, despite her apparent lack of one.

A boy sitting in the back of the class stood up and shouted, "Yeah, that he's a faggot!"

A chorus of laughs and gasps filled the room as Mrs. Langston tried to shut everyone up, yelling and pointing frantically at students. My head fell down into my arms and I turned up the music to full volume to drown out all of the chaos. Even with the loud music, the fast beating of my heart drowned everything out. My thoughts were disjointed and my mind wanted to escape the hell I was living in.

A sharp tap on my shoulder cut my attention from my music and made me remove my earbuds. Squatting next to my desk was Dakota, a shorter boy with hair that resembles a wet mop. His clothes were wrinkly and big, his shoes worn with small holes near his toes. He grabbed my bag from the floor and signaled me to leave the classroom with him. I stood up from my desk and walked past the suddenly silent students. I could feel their eyes boring into our backs as we walked out the door and into the hallway.