**********

I sat comfortably in my classroom as I started at the teacher; she has smeared eyeliner and clumped mascara. Her bangs and hair were frizzy and her squared glasses sat on her small nose awkwardly.
She wore a navy blue tank top and a large wool waterfall coat. Her jeans were too tight and her sneakers were worn.

"Scott Hoying?" She called as she glanced up, her eyes scanning the classroom. "Here." I said causing her to check my name.
My classroom was small, but I like it. The smell of wood crept throughout the room along with the sounds of the wind from outside.

There were only a few people here today. Most people skipped because there was a big parade going on that people wanted to go to.
The ones that didn't care for confetti, loud music and people, obnoxious floats, and the smell of cigarettes were the people that stayed.

The teacher knew everyone was here, yet she took attendance to avoid starting the actual teaching part; she was tired.

The bags under her eyes were poorly covered with cakey concealer. Her eyes were bloodshot and her entire body was slightly...clumsy. 

"You'd think you'd be studying for a test." Kirstie Maldonado spoke quietly next to me, her brown hair in a tight bun on the top of her head.

I furrowed my eyebrows together in confusion. Kirstie was resting her chin on her hand casually on the desk, her left leg over her right leg. it confused me that she had writing all over her jeans that I had failed to notice before. Black sharpie was written on her jeans in jumbled sentence and words. Her white long sleeved shirt looked comfortable.

"You're just looking at her as if she holds the key to world secrets. You're doing it to me now." She said. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms comfortably.

"I didn't notice I was in such a trance." I mumbled as I began thinking about my behavior. Kirstie leaned back too and let her face make it clear she was worried.

"Is everything alright?" I didn't respond, although I thought about it. so I just continued looking at the floor...wondering.

"Scott?" She tried again, I finally met her gaze and simply gave her a shrug. "Everything's alright. Why?" She shook her head slightly, straightening up her posture and brought her attention back to the teacher who had finished calling out the names of the students here. 

"Alright class, can you tell me what happened on December 8th, 1980?" Kirstie's hand shot up, she reminded me of Hermione Granger. The teacher gestured for her to answer.
She put her hand down and answered.

"The assassination of John Lennon." The teacher nodded and wrote 'JOHN LENNON' on the chalkboard in messy hand writing. Tired.

The teacher, or should I say Miss Barb, spun back around.

"Now, why do you think John Lennon was murdered? Obviously he was iconic and was adored by millions. What happened?" Another hand shot up before Kirstie's could.

"Because he was insane and was offended by the statement John Lennon made saying 'the Beatles are more popular then Jesus' and shot him four times in the back" Kevin, a tall, African American boy answered. His glasses small and squared just like Miss Barb's, but more natural.

"Correct." She said, turning around and writing "MARK DAVID CHAPMAN" on the white bored under John Lennon.

I began zoning out once again, the lesson of murder, jealousy and rage wasn't interesting for me. I began searching the classroom until my eyes seemed to always go back to a boy.

I didn't look at him for long because he didn't seem very interesting, but everytime I looked away, my eyes always found him again.

That's when I noticed that he wasn't simple. You just have to look at him a little closer and he's the most interesting and mysterious person here.

The best kind.

What made him so mysterious and interesting? I first noticed he was left handed. Not rare, but uncommon. I then noticed he had painted nails. Not uncommon for girls, but rare for boys at this school.

Another thing? He was drawing a giant monster. Not a childish boogie man or one with giant fangs and horns, but an actually...realistic monster?

He was drawing a man with eyes that seemed to pierce into my chest although it was just a picture. His fists were clenched and you could see the veins on his neck. Shadows were hitting one side of his face, but on of his arms was risen slightly.

Just because it doesn't have fangs doesn't mean it isn't a monster.

Maybe he could've been fighting a bad guy or girl? Maybe he was beating up a robby?

No, no. There was also a drawing of a small child who was holding up his hands, not in surrender, but as if he was going to fight the man. You could only see the back of the child, but he still looked determined. I was confused until my eyes went to the corner of the page where there was a leg sticking out.

A thin leg with a high heel on.

A female leg that the child stood in front of.

I looked up at the face of the boy drawing the photo, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his eyes squinted and his mouth slightly ajar.

He was so concentrated. Like the entire world was frozen and nobody in the universe was making any noise. Like he was sitting on a cloud in the sky during sunset and his mind has a mission to draw this picture before it was dark.
Like he had to do this as if his life depended on-

"Mister Hoying, would you like to listen to my class or continue staring at Mister Grassi? Because I'm afraid you really only have one option so you might as well go with the one you aren't doing now."

The classroom didn't snicker like middle scholars surprisingly, but just waited for the class to continue.

The boy--Grassi as I'll call him now, didn't even look up from his picture. He didn't even perk up when he heard his last name. I glanced back at him and he was still in his own little world of pictures and pencils.

"Mister Hoying!--" the bell rang. Miss Barb sighed in relief and sat down in her chair.
I took my time grabbing my bag as students, including Mister Grassi, left the classroom.

As I grabbed my bag I pulled out something I had in the front pocket. I was saving it for something like this. I walked up to Miss Barb and put the small card on her desk.

She opened her eyes and furrowed his thin brown eyebrows. "What's this?" She asked me. I shrugged slightly.

"It's a giftcard to the Cheesecake Factory." I said. She gasped loudly and smiled.

"Thank you, Scott. How very kind of you, really!" She said sincerely. I nodded with a small smile as I left the classroom.

The interesting boy, Grassi, was next to the door as I walked out.

He slipped back into the classroom. With confusion, I considered walking away and imagining what could've happened.

But instead, I stay close to the door to hear what's happening.

I hear a few quiet murmurs before I head a cry.

A cry?

It definitely wasn't Miss Barb, but it was Grassi.
I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I was determined to find out what he was upset about.

"Baby, let's goooo!" Kirstie said as she grabbed my arm.
I always found it interesting that she gave me pet names as if we were a couple. She obviously knew I was gay since I told her first, but she still continues on with the names.

I don't care since I do the same to her. We hold hands and kiss eachothers cheek, everyone assumes were tidy her until they find it I'm a flaming homosexual.

"That boy is crying in the classroom.
Do you know who Grassi is?" Kirstie shrugged slightly with furrowed eyebrows.

"I mean... oh, Mitch Grassi? I met him once before in the counselors office. He seemed pretty shaken up, but I was only coming to say happy birthday to the counselor so I left right after."
I nodded slowly and looked back at the door.

"I'm sure he's okay if he's talking to the teacher about it." She said with confidence in her voice.
Just then, the door opened and out walked Miss Barb.

Mitch was behind her, his hand in hers. Not in a weird way where their fingers were tangled, but where her hand was practically holding onto him and he's just weakly being pulled along.

I looked up quickly at her face. Her face seemed paler then usual, and her eyes were slightly widened.
Her lips were pressed together, but she still held very gentle features.

She was holding holding Mitch's hand gently, as if she would break his arm off if she pulled on him too hard.

Mitch looked blank. The skin around his eyes was red, and small white flakes were on his nose, obviously from a tissue.

So he must've been having allergies and Miss Barb is taking him to the nurse, or he was crying and she's taking him to the office.

I assumed he was crying because the white flakes were also near his eyes. Usually people that are offered a tissue when their crying don't blow their nose, but wipe the tears off.

Then their noses get clogged from the tears and they end up blowing their nose after. He did both, he must've been crying.

Big scary dad, weak small mother, crying to the teacher and being taken to the office.

And small visible bruise on his right wrist.

Ah, I get it now.
***