Hey! My name’s April and I am 16. You know, recently I was totally scared because I thought that my literature teacher, who’s apparently way older than me, was trying to seduce me, and that totally turned my world upside down. Here is a story of the weirdest experience I've ever had in my life. You see, my dad passed away a few years ago and my mom has been the sole breadwinner for the years since then. But a few months ago, unfortunately, she lost her job and we could no longer afford our life in the big city. As a matter of fact, mom decided that it would be better for us to move in with her mom – my granny -- in her tiny hometown, so that there, we could start over again. Life in the small town was definitely different from the one we had gotten used to by living in the city; but it was way cheaper and also more peaceful. Besides, mom could no longer be worried that Grams was living all alone in her old age and stuff. So, while mom was earning a living, granny and I were looking after each other.
But the new school, to be honest, was a separate story to tell. Everything and everybody was new to me, starting from classmates, of course. It’s just, when you’re 16, and you’re new in town, it’s pretty tough to get along with people. Things get even harder when you're forced to switch to another school in the middle of the year. The school hierarchy has already settled and everybody had already divided into cliques, so to speak. So yeah, there was no line of people who were dying to befriend me.
Frankly speaking, even the teachers were kinda not really friendly, or at least one of them – a literature teacher, Mr. Maccabee. It was during my first week of school when he saw me and said something like “who do we have here” and when he heard my last name, and knew that I had been transferred from the city, it seemed to me that he became really “interested” in me. He tortured me during his lessons, trying to figure out whether I already knew something about “To Kill a Mockingbird” and “The Scarlett Letter” and stuff. So that by the end of the first lesson I had clearly figured out that literature class was going to bring me lots of trouble.
Fortunately, after his class one girl came up to me and tried to, sort of, cheer me up, saying that Mr. Maccabee was really famous for his outstanding love of his subject. Hence, he thought that everybody also had to be sophisticated enough when it came to literature. And with great pleasure, he tortured and destroyed those who didn’t meet his requirements. So, I shouldn’t really take this lunatic personally. It was Sherry, who told me this and later on we had lunch together and even became really good friends, but I wouldn’t be telling this story right now if this friendship wasn’t further screwed up. Just wait a bit till you hear more about that.
Mr. Maccabee continued to torture me every single lesson, but it’s not even this that made me develop a total disgust toward him. I constantly caught his eyes on me. I have to admit that there would've been nothing surprising about this during literature class, but a few times, I saw him staring at me during lunches, or right through the window of his classroom when I was in the schoolyard, for example.
I tried not to pay attention to it at first, ‘cause, you know, I had just been transferred here and a lot of people were looking at me from time to time. But when a whole month passed and he never stopped with his strange looks, I mean, like scary strange, taking into account his extra attention toward me during classes, I told Sherry about it. She said he was just creepy and tried to make a joke that he might have fallen into love with me and began teasing me that someday I might become Mrs. Maccabee and stuff, and I laughed, but also this joke turned out to be not that far from the truth.
I already realized that Mr. Maccabee was pretty stingy with good grades, but once, when I wrote an excellent paper on the American literature of the 30s and got a “D” on it, I decided that it was time to deal with it. I waited till everybody left the classroom after another class of his, and decidedly went up to his desk and demanded justification for such a low grade.
I can’t say exactly what was it that I saw in his eyes, but a part of me thought that he had been waiting for me to come up to him. I tried to convince myself that I was mistaken and that it was just that nobody had ever tried to argue with him about grades and that he just got surprised that I did.
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