Bullied [Peterick]

4

~Pete's POV~

Today's going to be simple! I graded all the speeches and projects that I assigned a month ago and already returned them. Patrick did exceptionally well. He wrote a book report. To be honest, I wasn't expecting him to get up in front of the class and give a speech. In the two months of being his teacher, he's barely said anything to his peers.

I clicked the print button on my computer and made my way to the printer down the hall. I counted the papers that the printer spit out just to pass the time. I had 6 classes with a good 25 students which are 150 papers. It took around 5 minutes just to print them all. I brought them back to my classroom and set them on the front table. It was a grammar skills test that I'm giving to every student. I do this thing where if everyone knows enough about a topic I'll totally skip reteaching it.

The bell rang. I gave my directions to the students and let them go. I sat back down at my desk and started planning out an email I would write to Chase's parents. It had to be formal yet firm and strict. I settled by explaining everything that Patrick told me and everything I've witnessed, which wasn't much.

Late last week, Patrick informed me of another incident involving Chase. He said Chase confronted him in the hallway and humiliated him. Patrick said he was almost in tears.

I only wrote a paragraph in the email by the time the bell rang again for dismissal. My students piled the tests on the front table from where they picked them up. I stood behind the table and straightened out the papers. For being in high school, they sure don't know how to stack papers neatly. Friend groups yelled at each other before they even left my classroom. These kids are already giving me a headache.

Four hours felt like an eternity but it was all worth it when I got to see Patrick. I promised I would be a friend to him and he's finally beginning to let me in. I feel myself getting more excited as the day progresses. I don't really know what to call it. It's just this internal feeling of longing.

As soon as Patrick walked through the door for English, I subconsciously perked up. I don't think it's normal for a teacher to feel like this about a student but who the hell gives a crap about normal? I sure don't.

"Hey," Patrick shyly smiled. He dropped his backpack under his desk and sat down.

"Hi," I grinned. "You wanna know what I haven't stopped thinking about all day?" Patrick blushed before I even told him. He shrugged. "The music you said you write. Ya think I'll ever be able to hear some of it?"

Patrick shrugged again. "Maybe during lunch. It's not done yet," he trailed off.

"I don't care if it's done or not," I tried to be reassuring but it came off more as almost a beg. "I'm just curious about what you write." I played it off as cool as I could.

When the bell rang, I closed the door and prepared myself for the hour. It was short and sweet considering the only thing I did was talk about common grammatical errors that high school students make the most before they took their tests. Patrick answered a few of my questions and occasionally I would send him a quick thumbs-up before moving on to the next question or topic. During the last five minutes of class, the kids had a debate about the Oxford comma and whether it should be significant or not. Patrick didn't participate.

Patrick let himself into my classroom for lunch again, as he usually did. He smiled at me and closed the door behind him. "So about that music," I reminded him with a smirk.

Patrick set his tray down with a gentle sigh and a smile. He pulled out his iPod and handed it to me. "It's Grand Theft Autumn," he mumbled. I nodded and played the track. It was only instruments and I could tell how much work Patrick put into writing the music. The lead guitar and the rhythm guitar blended together beautifully. The track was heavy on the drums but that just made me want to lock the doors, shut the windows, and headbang to the whole song. The ending of the song came all too soon and I found myself disappointed when the iPod shut off. I handed the iPod back to him. "Patrick, let me tell you a little something. Even without lyrics, your song is better than most of the pop music playing on the radio these days! It's amazing!"

Patrick ducked his head and blushed furiously. I chuckled to myself. Patrick really is cute. The way his eyes light up when he smiles, his shy little smile that goes hand-in-hand with his quiet laugh. How he uses his entire body to laugh if something is funny enough. I could feel myself falling for this kid I'd only known for a short time. I'm in serious trouble especially considering I'm his teacher.

Patrick shifted uncomfortably in his chair. At that second I noticed I was staring at him. Now it was my turn to blush. "I'm sorry," I muttered. I wanted to keep looking at him but his eyes were downcast, looking at the tabletop and his untouched food. Patrick nodded with a dismissive smile and pushed his food around the plastic tray anxiously. "I'm sorry," I repeated. I knew Patrick couldn't hear me but it only felt right.

Patrick pulled a red notebook from his backpack and opened it to a page full of scribbles and incomprehensible doodles. "Whatcha got there?" I asked, trying my best to make the conversation less tense and awkward.

"My lyric notebook," he mumbled. Patrick stuck his tongue out as he concentrated on the words his pen was forming from under his hand. Occasionally, he would take a bite of whatever the school passed off today as food.

"So you do write lyrics?" I asked.

"I try. They kinda suck but they say practice makes perfect. Whoever 'they' are," he glanced up at me. "Have you ever tried writing lyrics?"

"I have actually," I admitted. I've never really talked about my work before. "I find it harder than it looks but I just treat it as poetry."

Patrick looked up at me hopefully. "Maybe you could help me?"

"Yeah," I smiled. "That'd be great! If you truly want to, you could come over to my house and I could show you some of the music I write. Maybe I'll even take out my bass. Totally unprofessional, I know," I laughed. "If you don't mind staying a little later I could drive you to my house."

"Yeah," Patrick decided. "That'd be fun. Nobody has to know about it, right?" He sounded like a child begging for approval.

"That is correct," I smiled. Kids started to file into my classroom. "Meet me in my room after school and I can take you there," I whispered before going back to my desk to continue the lesson.