Halfway through grade four, I switched elementary schools.
So there I was, the new kid in a blended grade three/four classroom. Everyone had already had five months to get to know one another and then I showed up. It was pretty intimidating, but I had a really great teacher and I quickly met a small group of nice girls to be friends with.
SIDENOTE: This was before they decided to create an “I Hate Andrea” club.
Shortly after I arrived, though, another new kid came to our class. His name was Scott. He was really quiet, but nice enough, and he had nice green eyes and olive skin, so a couple of my friends were like, “Omg, Scott’s sooooo cute!”
He was placed on the Cute/Cool List.
And I was no longer The New Girl! Yay!
Then one day, we were in class – I can’t remember which subject – and Scott started to act out. He was sitting in front of me, so I couldn’t really tell what was going on, but the teacher was getting irritated. I want to say he was making faces or something. Basically, he was being a little shit, which, when I think back to grade four, seems pretty normal. Except that Scott wouldn’t stop. The teacher got firmer and firmer with her warnings, but he wouldn’t cut his shit out.
Finally, my teacher threatened Scott with a visit to the principal’s office, like any normal human being would do in that situation.
But instead of shutting the hell up, Scott did this:
That’s right. Scott picked up his desk and threw it at our teacher. She jumped out of the way just in time, and we all sat there going
as the desk smashed into the chalkboard and then down onto the ground. The legs broke right off it. Scott stormed out of the room, his face bright red, a growl coming from deep inside him. It turned into a full-on rage scream as he made his way down the hallway to who knows where.
Yeah, so after that, not many people talked to Scott. He went from Cute/Cool to Weird/Scary. His quietness went from charming to suspicious. He kept to himself.
So that was the day I learned/confirmed:
(A) First impressions are not everything,
(B) You never know what the last straw may be,
(C) There are some things you just can’t come back from, and