My school is going through a crisis at the moment. But we're not meant to know about it, because if we did we would realize that our teachers are not omnipotent beings, and are in fact human beings too, just like ourselves, with worries, and problems, and fears…

So what do I do about this tender subject? I smother it in fiction and make a story.

I never said I was tactful.

Chapter 1

Scratch. Scratch scratch scratch.

There's something you definitely miss about chalkboards, Patrick idly mused. …But not necessarily in a good way.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch scratch. Screech…

Patrick's fingernails left trails against the wooden desk on that last one. Damn it, why a chalkboard? Granted, it had probably been a modern piece of technology in Tudor times, but that given he wasn't expecting teachers to have to use a measly old electronic whiteboard in the year 3006.

Scratch scratch scratch…

But then again, these weren't just your average teachers that he was dealing with here. Hell no. These were elite. These were the ones who had gone straight through teaching and had come flying out through the other side, leaving it gasping in their wake… probably along with sanity, too. They were the education system personified, and that was probably why they continued to insist on scraping a rock against a wall despite recent alternatives that may present themselves…

Scratch scratch.

For even if they themselves did not know it, deep, deep down, no matter what their age, the chalk board was a firm symbol within every teacher's soul…

So were canes, he was reminded as one whipped menacingly against his desk.

"Could you care to tell me the last sentence I said, please?" came the delightedly cruel drawl.

Despite the fact this man's face was so close to his their noses were nearly touching, Patrick pressed a hand against his chest, questioningly.

"Yes, you. The last sentence."

Patrick tilted his head to the side slightly, seeking refuge from the others sat behind him. They had none to give, or at least if they did they weren't about to share it. He was on his own.

"Um," he replied informingly, his fingers scratching through the back of his thick red hair. "Um. Um. Commanding respect is the first rule of becoming a competent tutor?"

There was a slight pause in which nothing moved.

Slowly, the fearsome man before him leant back, and sniffed. Patrick couldn't help but give a grin. A rather cheeky grin, too… One that he hadn't found himself using for nearly eight years. "Oh, so I was right, wasn't I-"

"Out."

At this Patrick stood up, obligingly, and quite to the surprise of everyone else in the room. Oh, he knew the score. You didn't argue with 'out'. It was the teacher trump card; After 'out' the only option other than complying was being dragged out by your hair. But backing down, not bluffing your non-existent hand against someone who held all the aces… He knew that was the true way to piss them off. After all, it was easy to understand your opponent's tactics when you were one of them.

He gently closed the door behind himself, and having escaped every pair of eyes that had been upon him he turned and leant back against the wall, putting his hands in his pockets. He gave a great exasperated sigh.

He knew, surely, he couldn't be the only one who despised these teacher's meetings… It was like a hunter being put into the body of a deer. It was only made more irritating by the ironic justice.

It wasn't that he was dense or anything of the like, as one might have gathered from his previous act of not sitting obediently like all his other colleagues back in there. Unfortunately, it seemed that over time, unlike other people, he had only matured in certain specialised areas… The subject he taught, for example.

But while he thought over the unjustness of his predicament, something was tickling the back of his mind. It was about… the way the meeting had gone. Not what had been said, he would have needed a higher level of consciousness at the time to have taken that in, but it was more the fashion in which they had done it. Yes, it was standard teacher proceedings to be intimidating to everyone and everything, but… hadn't that been a little too intimidating? Being sat down like students at desks? They were adults, after all…

Who knew. Perhaps it was just a new technique. He would ask the psychology teacher about it sometime.

Eventually, the door opened and several other tired teachers traipsed out. They didn't look at him as they walked past; Maybe because his misbehaviour had earned him a 'Get out of the torture room free' card.

"Yo," he said absent mindedly. At their condescending glares he immediately realized his mistake, and wiped his mouth as if ridding himself of the word he had just drooled. "Sorry. Hello."

One sighed, folding his arms. "You're never going to learn, are you,"

"Hey, it was only a single slip of the tong-"

"Not that," said Miss O'Dial, as if she and the other teacher shared the same mind, knowing exactly what each other were talking about. He hated it when they did that against him; It was meant to be strictly for student use only. "It was more a reference to the nice little display you put on in there, Mr Miner." She smiled. "Having flashbacks?"

Patrick kept his gaze fixed and defiant. It had not been a jokish, friend-to-friend comment, despite her expression. People soon learned that Miss O'Dial's smiles meant nothing. "Perhaps. It wasn't long ago for me after all, was it." Upon noticing this observation won him no favours he changed tact. "Come on, he didn't give me a choice! I only took the one remaining option that was staring me in the face-"

"Hmm," said another teacher; a graphics teacher to be precise, by the name of Mr Mackerel. "And I'm sure the last clever lad who said that to you found himself home an hour late. Am I right?"

"Maybe so… But… It's different when it's like that. It isn't me in the awkward position, for a start." He then realized that the group had migrated without him. "Hey, wait!"

He skipped along beside them while they continued, apparently feeling needless to heed him. "So, um… What did they say?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Pfft… Not really," he said after consideration. "But I guess it's kinda… kinda my duty to know."

It was miraculous. His strides were as wide as theirs, and he was most definitely taking a faster pace, but regardless of this they succeeded in keeping at least three feet's distance ahead of him. It seemed that Patrick was the only one who truly understood the laws of physics, and therefore was the only one they applied to.

"The whole reason we were brought here today from our normal regime was to hear what he had to say, and so if I missed it… If it was something important… You might as well tell me."

When the only reply to this was more silence, he stopped.

"Fine then," he called, sulkily, once again having what Miss O'Dial would call 'flashbacks'. "Be that way. I don't care. I guess it only continued in the practised fashion of all teacher conferences, anyway."

This time, there was an acknowledgement of his comment, even if he didn't hear it. An virtually inaudible sigh. "If only for once you were right, Mr Miner…"

Just a short intro, if you will.

Please review.