Page 4 of Grin and Bear It

“Trevor, every time we watch a movie, you fall asleep,” I replied with a smile.

“I know, but I was up late last night—”

“Trevor…”

Although I groaned, I knew what was going on with him. He was always sleepy in the mornings, then his energy levels would build during the day: the late night layup games he played with other kids on his street were evidence of that.

“I’m tired—” he started to say, giving me puppy dog eyes.

“And we need to get to class and do some work. You’re so close to passing,” I told him, taking off down the hall. Trevor loped along beside me with no effort.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And I know how happy your mum would be if you could pass this.”

Trevor nodded, his spine straightening. His mum had a lot of things on her plate, with work and caring for older family members and, with no husband in the picture, her strong, capable son was forced down the line of her attention a little because he could fend for himself when others couldn’t. But he loved her fiercely and was conscious that his poor performance at school stressed her out further, even if he found it difficult to fix it.

“I told you we could do this, didn’t I?” I asked him, and he stared into my eyes then, a mixture of hope and fear swimming there. “We just need to get this essay draft fixed.”

“OK. Yeah, let's do that,” he said, with all the determination he directed at the ball on the basketball court.

“Good plan,” I said, as we walked up to my classroom door, feeling a sense of satisfaction at his increased motivation.

“Damn, Miss…”

A lot of the students were already lined up and ready to go in. And some of the girls? Their eyes widened as they took in my clothes. A few looked embarrassed for me, some obviously wondered if I was colour blind or something and a few snickered, looking me up and down with exaggerated emphasis.

“Ah…” One of my really sweet students, Felicity, said. “That’s a nice dress, Miss.”

“Suck-up,” another girl muttered.

“This?” I held out the skirt, really seeing just how hideous the print was now I was looking at it properly. “Nope. It absolutely isn’t. It's bloody awful.” More snickers from the mean girls. “But that’s OK. My mum bought it for me, so I have to wear it some time.”

“So that still happens when you’re an adult?” Trevor asked, his boys clustering around him. “Damn, because my nanna bought me this suit…”

“Suit?” One of his friends cackled at that, then slapped him up the back of his head. “She think you gonna look all gangsta or something?”

“What about that jumper your nan knitted for you?” another boy shot back and then all of us were looking a little embarrassed.

“So apparently everyone has ugly clothes their relatives foist upon them,” I said, unlocking the door.

“What does foist mean?” Trevor asked as they all streamed in through the door and I walked over to my desk beside the whiteboard next to the door.

“To impose something that isn’t wanted upon someone,” I replied, opening my laptop after I dumped my marking on the desk.

Kids walked in the door in fits and starts, with the majority of them seated by the time I looked up from my laptop to mark the roll. Felicity and her friends were seated in the front row, stacks of well-thumbed fantasy romance books sitting alongside their workbooks and pencil cases. Trevor and his mates were all sitting together in a row towards the back, though not the very back row. That was where the mean girls sat, phones out, gossiping, and shooting me sidelong looks to see when I was going to make the usual statement about no phones in class. They knew I’d be taking those phones any second, if they didn’t put them away, but they always pushed their luck to the limit. I drew in a breath to start the class, but as I did, the last batch of students arrived.

The Walker twins had been amongst my best students. They weren’t exactly academically gifted, but their passion for history was unmatched by any other students in the class. As the great-grandsons of US servicemen, they’d been deeply engaged in the unit we were doing on World War Two, due to their personal connection with the material.

It made a huge difference to the whole class when there were a few kids who really engaged with a topic and were keen to learn about it.

The Felicitys of the world would do amazingly when they got to university, their obvious intelligence and dedication setting them in good stead in that freer yet more academically focussed environment. But in high school they had little impact on class morale and taking others with them in their interest in the topics we studied. Australians have what’s called a ‘tall poppy syndrome’, where we tend to lop the heads off anyone who rises above the pack. So while I loved my bookish students, I recognised that they were somewhat isolated from the rest of the general student body. But popular kids like the Walker twins? When they were engaged, they supported the authority you exercised in class.

Of course, that meant that if they chose to, they could totally undermine it.

So when they and a few of their boys strolled leisurely into class, late, with no explanation or apology, I felt my heart sink, anticipating the potential disruptions that might be coming. When they stopped just inside the room near my desk to take in my truly awful dress with exaggerated emphasis, and burst out laughing, I could’ve chosen to feel crushed.

Instead I was just sad.

---