tutor; stenbrough

01

01
tw: brief drug ment

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stanley uris's light curls are in his eyes and his head is buried in his english book when the table he's sat at begins to shake and a loud shout jolts him out of his trance. he looks up, adjusting the thin-framed glasses on his nose and shoving back the unruly hair with one hand to get a better view of the situation taking place in front of him on the early monday morning.

two boys his age, thomas jenkins and justin cerillo, are atop the cafeteria table that stanley is sat at, their dirty shoes leaving scuff marks across the surface and calling the entire student body's attention to them.

stanley is uninterested in what's happening. he'd never cared much for other people, not to mention the so-called popular kids that got off on making a ruckus and making the teacher's lives a living hell. with an annoyed sigh, he scoots down the bench a bit to put some distance between himself and the two boys standing just a mere few metres from his lunch tray.

"eyes up here, everyone," justin shouts, and for some reason everyone seems to truly care what he has to say, as if he wasn't just an obnoxious golden boy with nothing better to do than draw attention to himself and snort lines in the bathroom between classes to distract himself from his own failures. "listen up!"

as soon as enough people are paying attention, the two share a slight mischievous smile, and justin taps on his phone a few times before music starts blaring out and he steps back, clearing a space for thomas.

thomas bows, as if he's about to put on a great show, and all stanley can think is, who does he think he is? p.t. barnum?

"do we all remember the trainwreck of an opening ceremony we had last week?" thomas asks, his voice loud and carrying through the cafeteria. a few whistles sound in agreement to his question. "what do you say we make up for it now?"

stanley rolls his eyes at the proposition, deciding to ignore the situation and attempt to refocus on his english textbook. however, it's nearly impossible as justin begins clapping, and, with peer pressure at work, the rest of the students join in, matching the beat of the song.

stanley's focus just becomes worse as thomas begins to sing. and quite terribly, too. his voice is loud and pitchy, but he's making people laugh. and then they start booing him playfully, and then an apple goes sailing across the room from behind stanley, missing justin's head by a foot and splattering on the wall behind him.

soon enough, people have given up on their lunches, grabbing their half eaten food items and chucking them with reckless abandon into the mass of hysteric students. it's a full out food fight before stanley had even been able to finish the page he was on.

with an exasperated groan, stanley shoves his textbook into his backpack, zipping it up and then holding it up to use as a shield so that no one's rancid finger food would ruin the expensive sweater his aunt had bought him for his birthday.

the food fight only lasts five minutes, because thomas and justin's buddies, who had been guarding the cafeteria doors, had gotten caught up in throwing things, and had failed to warn anyone of the principal's arrival.

the projectiles immediately stop and silence settles as principal ferguson stares into the lunchroom in disgust. he's mad, and looking for someone to blame, and thomas and justin scramble down from the table.

"this is absolutely disgraceful. we are trying to teach you here how to be mature adults, and you're acting like you're no more than five years old!" he looks like he's about to explode. "who started this?"

no one wants to speak up in fear of suspension. there's awkward shifting, but no response to his question. stanley slowly lowers his bag to his side, brushing off the potato chip crumbs that had accumulated, and watching nervously as the principal's eyes rake every one of his students.

"if someone doesn't come forward, i'm cancelling the homecoming dance."

chaos ensues, and then everyone is pointing fingers, and it's unclear who exactly started it because now everyone is blaming someone new.

principal ferguson slowly makes his way into the room, watching as to make sure he doesn't step in any of the mess, and peering from student to student before his eyes land on stanley. "uris," he barks, because he knows stanley, and he knows stanley would tell him the truth. "what happened here?"

stanley sits there, fingers gripping the strap of his backpack tightly. he's receiving glares from both principal ferguson as well as thomas and justin, each of them daring him to speak. finally, he croaks, "uh, thomas and justin were singing and dancing on the table, which is why the food fight started, i think. but i'm not sure who threw the food at them first."

when the principal turns to eye the culprits, stanley feels himself shrinking under the gaze of his peers. he thinks he's in the clear until thomas blurts, "don't pretend like you didn't throw the first apple, uris."

principal ferguson looks at him, and though he knows stanley, and knows that's unlike him, he also knows that stanley does not get along with justin or thomas. and, stan can't manage to form any words of denial, so the principal has no choice but to believe it.

"cerillo, jenkins. uris. my office, tomorrow morning. don't be late."

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