Mr. Haggerman stuck his face into Grueber's. The kid had a lot of nerve. He was unruly for a missionary kid. What was the world coming to? Maybe the end of the world as the Bible had predicted. But he was far from rapture ready. The retired Army-man had a lot of anger to iron out. Maybe after retirement.
The kid staring him straight in the eyes glumped something down twice. He noted persperation dotting across his pimpled forehead.
If he could, he'd head butt him like he used to do to some of his undisciplined privates. But this was a high school. And according to the rules, it was only the principal who could dish out physical punishment. Child abuse laws were making things harder. It was just another sign of the times and another reason why his blood boiled. How was he not supposed to let the sun go down on his anger? He deserved respect.
But he restrained himself, squinted his eyes at the walking-grease-pit, and shouted, "Get into your seat!"
Grueber responded by spinning around and skittered toward his desk.
The classroom fell silent. Faces went sullen and everyone scurried to their seats.
Mr. Haggerman stood in the doorway, right hand in pocket, jingling change. He gazed around the classroom and then at Cassandra. "Do we have names, Miss Berg?" He strutted toward her. "I hope I pegged you correctly."
Shelly Arkon 2015