Hey people, sorry this isn't necessary a Treasure Box update but a little short story from Troy's POV. You know how you're supposed to do something but end up doing something else? That's how this came about so I thought I'd just share this with you and hope you're not mad.
Troy's POV
Even though you're a teacher, you don't have to like your students. Some are easier to get along with than others. Others are so painfully annoying, you want to slap them. There's nothing you can really do. There are plenty of students who don't like you either so you can't really feel too bad about it.
I paused mid-word and looked up from the PowerPoint I was explaining. He was talking. Again. It wasn't like they never had time to talk and if they were quiet enough, I let it go but Allan Smith decided to whisper as loud as humanly possible.
Allan Smith. The only openly gay kid in school and annoying as hell.
"Smith," I snapped, my temper getting the best of me, "Is it really necessary for the entire class to hear your conversation? You can talk about how hot Barry is while walking down to the principal's office."
Allan's entire face glowed red while the classroom roared with laughter. They were honestly merciless. I guess I was a bit worst considering Barry (who was currently cringing) was in the classroom too but he was really being annoying. This wasn't even the first time I had to shut him up. This was a repeating occurrence throughout the year though this was the first time I had deliberately embarrassed him.
But at least he managed to shut up for the rest of the period. He continued to glare but that didn't faze me in the least.
Around the end of the school day, the intercom called me down to the office. At that moment, I felt like I had fallen right back into my high school days. I picked myself up and dragged my body down to the office. Once I got in there, the secretary told me to go straight to the principal's office.
A bad sign.
When I opened the door, Smith was sitting there with 'smug' written across his face. The principal, Ms. Bitter and Single, was staring at me with stern, angry eyes.
Another bad sign.
"Sit down, Mr. Delroe," I'm screwed, "Mr. Smith has told us that you have been treating him unfairly because he's gay."
I exhaled with relief, "I thought this was something legitimate. No, I don't believe I treat him unfairly and even if I did, it's not because he's gay. It may have something to do with his incessant talking."
Smith screeched defensively, "Other people talk as much as I do."
I asked dryly, "Are they as loud as you are?"
"Mr. Delroe," Principal Piss-in-Pot snapped, "That is not appropriate."
I refrained from scoffing, "I'm not homophobic. I actually support the LGBT community."
Smith did scoff, "Liar." Snap.
That was my patience going right out the window. "Can I make a call? Thanks." I stepped out of the room and dialed Marc's number.
"Hello?" The moment I heard his voice, I relaxed.
I leaned back on the door and felt a smile work its way onto my face. "Hey, can you come up to the school? I'm in a bit of trouble."
"What did you do?"
I laughed at the anger and disbelief in his voice. "Nothing. Seriously."
"Yeah right, I'll be there soon." He hung up, probably worrying himself into an early grave. My little worrywart.
I went back into the room and was met with the principal's glare. I may have rolled my eyes at her as I sat down.
"Thank you for joining us," her voice was heavy with sarcasm. "Mr. Smith has informed me that his parents will be here any second now to demand an apology."
I knew replying wouldn't be in my best interest but being the smartass that I am, I couldn't help saying, "If you could inform me what I'm supposed to be apologizing for, that'd be great."
Fortunately, she didn't get a chance to swallow my retort and fire me on the spot. A man and woman came barreling into the room, both dressed in pressed suits. The woman had dark brown hair pulled into a tight bun and the man had his dirty blond hair neatly cut with every strand in place. How did such serous looking people create an Allan Smith?
They both turned a murderous glare on me.
"Are you the homophobic teacher that's been giving my son a hard time?" Mrs. Smith asked.
Like a switch, my sarcasm turned on, "Depends, is the stake you want to burn me on mahogany or oak?"
I know, my job was already in danger so why was I making jokes?
Answer: I could.
"Mr. Delroe," Principal Stick-up-Ass growled, "This is not a time for jokes."
I scoffed, "It's always a time for jokes. You're going to laugh at that one when you get home."
Mr. Smith barked, "I don't see what's so funny."
I answered, irritated, "What's funny is that I'm being accused of being homophobic when I've never done anything to imply that. I admit that my warnings to Allan has become progressively more calloused but it has nothing to do with his sexuality."
"Yeah right," Smith snorted, "I bet you're just saying that."
I was getting a migraine, "No, I am not and you have no proper basis for assuming that."
"What do you mean a 'proper basis'?" Mrs. Smith shrieked, "If my son feels like he's being mistreated then he's being mistreated."
Why? Just why?
I was saved from having to respond by a soft knock on the door. The soft blue eyes of my husband peaked in.
Immediately, the principal composed herself and asked with a pleasant enough smile, "Yes, what can I do for you?"
Marc came in, "Troy called me and told me he was in some type of trouble. I'm Marc Delroe."
The principal flashed a glare my way, "So you're Mr. Delroe's brother...?"
Marc was astonished by the question, "No, husband."
They all stared, open-mouthed, at him.
"B-but," Smith stuttered, "Mr. Delroe always talks about his wife."
I avoided Marc's eyes as he glared at me but couldn't help smirking. I knew he wasn't mad anymore when he rolled his eyes and sat on the arm of my chair. I pulled him onto my lap and wrapped my arms around his waist. Years ago, even this level of PDA would have made him blush and lecture me for being inappropriate in public. He stilled blushed but his brilliant blue eyes met mine, shining as bright as the smile on his face. Richie always said that everyone could see that Marc and I love each other. Apparently, the way we looked at each other gave it away. What look did I give the most precious person in my life?
A cleared throat brought us out of our own world. The principal was red in the face as she said repentantly, "I think we own you an apology, Mr. Delroe. I just check the data base and discovered that you are legally married to Marcus Delroe. You were right. We were too hasty and just to a conclusion with no proper basis. It will not happen again, right, Mr. Smith?"
Mr. Smith and Allan both answered, "Yes ma'am." Then Mr. Smith glared at his son, "Wait, she's talking to you, Mr. He hates me because I'm gay."
Allan laughed uneasily, "Okay, maybe I did jump to conclusions."
Mrs. Smith sighed loudly, "You think?"
"Wait, what?" Marc looked around with his confused puppy face, "What do you mean jumped to conclusions?"
"Why don't you tell him, Allan?" Mr. Smith suggested.
Allan hesitated, "Well, I thought Mr. Delroe hated me because I'm gay."
Marc's eyes widened. Then narrowed on me. "What did you say?"
"I feel such a lack of faith in this marriage," I commented.
He ignored me and turned back to Smith, "I'm sorry if he offended you in any way. He loses his brain to mouth filter from time to time."
"Yeah, that's sort of obvious in class," Smith responded, making me roll my eyes. "But I guess it's my fault too. I'll try not to talk as much in class."
I was going to tell him that it was his volume that was a problem but the principal decided to dismiss all of us. Allan and his parents apologized again before leaving. Marc waved away their apologies with a laugh and leaned against my arm, smiling. When I asked what had him in such a great mood, he simply said, "I was thinking about you when you called."
A week later, I was grading tests during my lunch period when I heard a knock at the door. I didn't bother looking up as I yelled, "Come in."
I heard the click of the door opening and closing and a set of feet shuffling towards me while another came towards me in long confident strides.
"Hey, Delroe," Smith chirped.
I really didn't feel like dealing with him. "What do you want?"
"My friend is confused about his sexuality."
"Fascinating."
"And I told him he should ask you for advice," he continued, "Since you are married to a guy and stuff."
I sighed and finally looked up. Beside Smith was actually the quarterback of the football team, Lyon Mitchell. How cliché was that? "If you like dick, you like dick. If you don't, that's fine too. Can I please get back to work?"
Mitchell hung open in disbelief. Right, he's never had me as a teacher.
"Listen, kid, it's only complicated if you let it be," I explained. "Don't let what people expect of you conflict with who you are. If you want to see a good example of LGBT rights before your time, look at Oscar Wilde, a writer who actually included homosexuality in his novel during a time where being gay was illegal. I mean, he gave so little shits about public opinion and he didn't let it restrict him. People don't always understand but if you restrict yourself to what they do understand, then you'll never progress as a person. And, in the end, it's each progressive person that lets us progress as a nation. Got it?"
Mitchell nodded firmly, "Got it."
"Good, now get the hell out of my classroom."
He cracked a small smile, "Thanks, Mr. Delroe."
I waved him away and focused back on the tests but nearly groaned when Smith chimed, "You're actually not a bad guy."
I looked up and glared at him.
His smile steadily dimmed until he finally said, "I'll get going."
"Yeah, you do that."
I watched as he scurried out of my classroom then chuckled to myself. "Goddamn kids."