Classroom Affair - Chapter 3 Tin Man

The hours crawled by, with each teacher trying to convince the group of students that their particular class would be interesting, versus the other six they were already forced to attend.

Shannon glanced up at the clock, which read “two-thirty,” with the second-hand pulsating quickly to the beat of her own heart.

Mr. Scott, the history teacher, prattled loudly about how their football team would win state again this year and how it wasn’t unlike the Spartans going to battle, which would be their topic for the next two weeks.

While the boys ramped each other up about the comparison, with more than one “This is Sparta!” reference thrown around, Shannon rolled her eyes and continued doodling on her folder.

How could a grown man compare the terrifying experience of fighting for one’s homeland to a silly game? And what’s worse, how could the rest of them feel the same way?

But with a glance around the room at the pimpled faces, she soon realized that no one here thought the same as she did. Just one more year till college. Just one more year till college.

“So, did you all see the new choir hottie?”

“Um, how could you not? He was perfect! I may have to transfer into music class now.”

The excited voices reached Shannon’s ear and she slowly raised her text book to eye level so she could listen without being noticed.

Without having to look, she knew that the voice came from the leader of the trio, Alexia Jackson, the same girl who tormented her since grade school.

One of the draw backs of living in a town where everyone grew up together, was that you could never truly escape an enemy. Alexia made it her personal mission to torment Shannon, usually throwing a barb or two about how she dressed or her values.

In the battle of high school, Alexia Jackson was as much of a sex Spartan as any warrior could be. Armed with a body that developed in middle school and a knowledge of things she shouldn’t.

“I wonder how old he is? He looks too young to be an actual teacher.” Jenny, a blonde girl with red high-lights, inquired.

Alexia brushed back her wave of straightened onyx hair. “Who knows? But from my experience, older men are the best. They buy you the most expensive gifts and don’t have time for the cute puppy love crap the boys around here want. They get right down to the dirty if you know what mean?”

The other two girls exchanged knowing looks and broke out into a fit of giggles.

As if by some super-natural ability to detect her unease, Alexia’s golden eyes turned and fixed on the girl who was clutching her notebook.

A wicked smile melted on her face. “Why don’t you tell us what you think Shannon? I mean with all the guys you’ve been with, you are bound to have some experience in these matters.”

Jenny stopped giggling with her partner, Emily, and fell into step with Alexia’s mocking. “Of course, she does! I hear that girls who claim to be virgins are the kinkiest. So, spill Shannon, what do you think older men like?”

“I’m trying to pay attention to Scott.” She mumbled, feeling Alexia’s eyes bore into the side of her face.

Emily was about to raise her caramel-colored hand to push away Shannon’s book, when the bell shrieked.

Without wasting a moment, Shannon leapt from her seat, gathered her books and briskly escaped towards the hallway, trying to ignore the stream of giggles following. She couldn’t believe that it was only the first day and Alexia had managed to upset her. That was a new record even for her.

“Do you think I could swallow four wads of gum without choking?” The question caught her off guard as Iris appeared beside her on her way out of class.

Shannon shrugged. “I wouldn’t advise it. Remember what happened when you tried to shove an entire apple down your throat to see how long your stomach would take to dissolve it and Mr. Miller had to give you the Hiemlich?”

As if the memory was long forgotten, Iris’s smile was nostalgic. “Oh yeah, good times. Well at least the day is almost over. On to the music room!”

The fairy-girl grabbed her friend’s hand and pulled like a child at the circus.

Shannon tried not to trip over her own feet, as Iris pushed past the crowd of students with no regard for their comfort or if her punk boots smashed their toes.

The music room sat sleepily outside the school building and normally the stairs welcomed a sense of peace for Shannon, but now it felt as if someone had released a trap door to the butterfly sanctuary in her stomach.

“I can’t wait to see what this guy’s got.” Iris murmured as she pushed past the group of choir girls, all of whom had already begun to swarm inside.

Shannon glanced around at the familiar room, finding the soft, pastel walls calming and the scent of last night’s Lemon Pledge, soothing to her soul. She stepped inside, dropped her bag on one of the waiting chairs and glanced to the instrument which was her oldest, most treasured friend.

The magnificent body shone with a dark gleam, the keys alternating between polished black and pristine white, calling to the pianist inside her.

“Welcome back Shannon! Play us something!”

“Yeah! Something pretty.”

“No, something jazzy!”

Shannon laughed at the excitement of her choir girls.

There weren’t many places where she, the Jesus freak, felt welcomed in a school of self-absorbed teens, but with this group of about ten to twelve adolescent girls, who shared her love of music, Shannon felt the acceptance she always craved.

The old teacher, Mrs. D, was a very kind lady, but a little hard of hearing towards the end of her teaching career. Shannon’s guess, was one too many tone-deaf people trying out at the start of each year. Because of this, she became more of a figure-head than actual teacher.

In her final years as both choir and band director, she slowly began to pass her love and knowledge off to the choir president, Shannon O’Ryan; a job she accepted willingly.

“Ok, but just one song before the bell rings.” She agreed, settling herself down on the leather seat.

With a satisfied inhale, the eighteen-year-old placed her snowy fingers on the keys and played a favorite of the class. There were swoons and happy sighs from each side of the instrument, as the choir of pleased girls hummed along with her rendition of “The Sound of Silence.”

When she reached finale few measures, a voice she wasn’t familiar with, joined the group, filling it with a haunting bass.

With the echoing of the final chord, Shannon released the sustain peddle and turned to meet the startling blue eyes of Mr. Thompson, who held out his finishing note, until it died away in the quiet.

Every singer in the room stared with baited breath, as the perfect smile of their new teacher held them.

He placed the clipboard he was carrying in his arm, as he clapped. “Beautiful! Simply lovely. I see you are my choir president and accompanist, yes?” He checked the clipboard. “Ms. O’Ryan, is it?”

Shannon swallowed and nodded, nearly whispering. “You know my name?”

“Let’s see….hm….. yep there you are. Mrs. D made special notes about you. She said that you were the choir president and played piano for the group. Glad to meet you, Ms. O’Ryan, but I’m going to have to ask you to take your place with the rest of the students.”

There was a moment of confusion, each girl looking from one another, to Shannon.

A thin hand raised and a quiet voice protested. “But Mr. Thompson, Shannon always plays for us. She leads warm-ups and helps with the conducting. Mrs. D always let her.”

Shannon felt grateful for Megan’s defense. The other girls nodded in agreement.

It was true that she considered herself more teacher than student, and only she knew each singer’s particular strength and skill. It would take weeks for him to understand their talents without her and that just felt like wasted time.

“That may have been how Mrs. D did things, but I’m not her. Now, take your seat Ms. O’Ryan.” Mr. Thompson ordered, his crystal eyes challenging her to argue.

Shannon looked from him to Iris, who shrugged.

Not wanting to cause a scene, Shannon took a seat beside her friend in the alto section, as Mr. Thompson stood up to the conductor’s stand.

He set down his notes and inhaled. “Now that’s out of the way. A few of you may have noticed that I do things a bit differently than teachers you may have been used to. I’m going to demand a lot out of each of you, so if you don’t like it,” again those icy eyes turned solely on Shannon, “there’s the door.”

Shannon swallowed the lump forming in her throat and turned her gaze away from him, when he said. “Let’s start with a basic scale, shall we?”

There was a half-hearted reply from the girls who weren’t used to change.

Shannon tried to keep herself from crying. Never had a teacher not appreciated her efforts or embarrassed her in front of her classmates.

He wasn’t like this when she met him in the hall, so why was he putting on this face now?

It wasn’t like I was trying to be disrespectful. I was just trying to help.

She thought to herself, biting back the injustice she felt.

Mr. Thompson’s attention turned to her. “Care to join in, Miss. O’Ryan? Or are you going to sulk the rest of the period?”

Shannon startled and opened her mouth to join in, though she didn’t feel like singing at all. Something about the way his eyes locked on her made her feel shaken to the core.

After a few more scales, he called break, to pull out the material he planned for this quarter.

While he was shuffling through papers, Iris leaned over to her friend and whispered. “Geeze, call the Wizard, Tin Man needs to find himself a heart.”