Let me tell you all a story of the time I was in Junior High. There was a teacher, a popular one for unpopular means: Mr. Selland. I never had him as a real teacher, only a substitute a few times, not few enough. Here's how the story goes from before the last time I met him.

I just got back from getting dressed from P.E. class and school was out. I walked by his daughter, who was feeding the schools stray cats, aiming to retrieve my backpack. As I put the bag on I see him walking down the hall: 6' 1" man with white hair, but only thirty something with a nasty look on his face.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Getting my stuff" I replied.
"What are you doing here?" he asked again, frustrated with my answer.
"Getting my stuff" I replied uncomfortably.
This repeated for what felt like long minutes consisting of many seconds, until he turned to his daughter. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Feeding the cats." she answered hesitantly. Mr. Selland nodded and turned to me. "What are you doing here?"
"Getting my stuff." I replied, tilting my head forward, slightly frustrated.
"You aren't allowed back here." He snapped in a forced polite tone.
"Mrs. Woodard said I can be back here." I shrugged.
"I am a teacher." He said pointing to himself, careful to articulate every word.
"And she is the superintendent." I pointed towards the office, mocking his tone of voice which I have had enough of. My brother arrived and told me it was time to go. The teacher warned me that if I left I'd get detention. With a single reply, "I'll take my chances." I was off.

The next time I see him, he was substituting my class. He paired me up with the peopled who never did any work, I didn't mind, I never did any work either. This time though, I did do work, and was the only one to do so. He came to my table, "Where's your work?" he asked.
"Right here." I answered, showing him my booklet.
"Where's their work?" he asked, gesturing to the people beside me.
"They didn't do it. They never do it."
"Okay, well, give your book to them so they can copy off answers- actually just trade books with them." He crossed his arms.
"Or maybe," I persuade, "I sit between them, continue my work as they copy answers."
"Give them your book." his voice showed no signs of compromise. I comply. I sigh as I hand the book over to the person sitting next to me. "Was that so hard?" He continued, "Now next time don't argue with me or else you'll just lose again." before turning around and walking away he said "And you're lucky we never meet each other outside of school."
The person beside me, the one I gave my book to, did the "OOOOOOH" when someone gets burnt. The whole class was watching. They heard what he said. I was a 13 year old male, I wasn't going to take this crap sitting down. I raised my voice "Maybe I lost because I refuse to argue with children." The entire class did the same uproar as the kid next to me. It only lasted a few seconds long.
The look on the teachers face as he turned around was indescribable other than pure rage. His veins popped out of his neck, his teeth bared. The noise out of his mouth was near deafening. "Go to the office right now!" The class sat in silence, never seeing a teacher snap like this. I was in shock almost, I stood up with a smirk and walked out of the door.

As I enter the principle's office, I find out he tried to get me suspended. Mrs. Woodard hung up the phone and shook her head, uttering the teachers name in a disappointing tone. "Oh Mr. Selland." I've always been the good-two-shows teachers pet, great way to get teachers to protect you.

Later that night, I sent a Facebook message to him, describing the details of how it felt kissing his daughter, as the entire classroom snitched on him. "And you're lucky we don't meet each other outside of school." That was a threat, an entire freaking class snitched on him. Parents were calling the school nearly asking for his head on a pike. He was fired before midnight. I slept so peacefully.

As time went on I got answers. He didn't like my brother, and he thought I was no different. Now his daughter ran away from him, wife getting a divorce and he isn't allowed near schools anymore. I sit now wondering how things could have been different. I look back and see how arrogant the both of us were. I still don't have answers to all of my questions. Where is my friend, his daughter? What would have happened is we met outside of school? What would happen if I met him now?

All I know is, it's over. And damn, it felt so good seeing him rage. That was the first time I realized life is only as good as you make it. Life is afraid of being your bitch. Never stopped me.

Tune in next time for a less thrilling story of how I went to a continuation school for one year, and how it was the second most kind of interesting year of my life so far.