Unlikely ✓

Nine: Crayons, Markers, and Books. Oh My!

POV: Zen Teller

"Oh shut your fucking face hole!" Dusk yelled.

She was in a mood this morning—and every other morning.  Her aggravated nature didn't really help my nerves one bit.

Today was my first day at my new job and to say I was worried about making a bad impression was an understatement.  Davis knew someone who put a good word in for me—so clearly they never met me, but I was still grateful for it.

One thing I was not grateful for was my sister and brother trying to take a picture of me "all dressed up", their words not mine.

Was it really so strange to see me in a bit fancier clothing?  I was simply wearing a button-up with a pair of black jeans.  It was far from proper fancy but I needed something other than a hoodie to cover up the tattoos on my arms.

So it was the navy button-up Mock made me buy, more or less against my will.

"I want one good picture of you on your first day, so help me if I have to hold you down for it," Dusk glared at me.

"Five seconds," I muttered, standing still.

There was a time and place to argue, but today it was just easier and less of a pain to just give in.  I just didn't have to be happy about it.  I didn't smile, but I didn't frown either.

I didn't really like my picture taken all that much, never have.  There was always something about it that made me uncomfortable.  Like I had to act better than I really was to say: 'look how perfect my life is" in one single piece of shiny paper.'

"Remember to be nice and don't kick any of them," Davis added.

I glared at him.

Yes, because I kick kids all the fucking time.

Fuck-waffle.

"And if anyone offers you something with glitter make sure to thank them," Mock made sure to add in.

"You act as if I'm the kid, I know how to have fucking manners," I muttered to them all.

Dusk rolled her eyes.  "Yeah sounds like it, hun."

After my fourth good luck speech, I was finally able to get in the car and drive to the Elementary school.

It wasn't a full-time job and I was grateful to only work a few days a week with a get out of High School card to go with it.  I liked the complaining of screaming kids more than screaming teenagers.

Middle school was just a hard pass for everything.  It was like its own level of Hell or something with demons who didn't know what deodorant was.

When I pulled up to the Elementary school the teacher I would be assisting was there waiting and for a second I was afraid I was late and had already fucked up, but she smiled at me.

"Just in time, I'm Mrs. Bark.  It's a pleasure to meet you."  Her voice was chipper and a bit too positive for my liking but it didn't seem forced or faked.

I shook her hand and pushed back all the: "Just wait till you get to know me, you'll be changing your opinion on that later," comments.  Instead, I introduced myself and followed her to the office, and got everything set up.

The classroom was down a half set of stairs, the first room on the left.

Also known as the library.

It was when you would read for fun in school and didn't have to go to the library for research you didn't want to learn to start with.

"It's pretty simple, you're going to come in a bit early and restock the shelves to make sure all the books are put back—I kinda have my own method so I'll show that to you before you leave, but don't worry if you don't get it the first time.  I had my wife and her brother help me when I wasn't feeling so well and got behind on it and they just didn't understand it."