003

After a final challenging stare-down, she snatched the slip of paper from my hand and stormed out the door, slamming it behind her with enough force that Mr. Hallett from next door came over to make sure everything was okay. I assured him that it was, and with Taylor out of our hair, the other students and I salvaged what we could from the final minutes of class. Thankfully, it was my final instructional period of the day, with seventh period as my prep. My patience for teenage tomfoolery had been picked clean for the day. As always, Taylor and her shenanigans were the icings on the cake of stress.

The bell rang, and students filed out. I closed the door behind the last of them, suppressing my guilt at shirking hall monitoring duties. I needed to take a few deep breaths and relax before I could get back to the endless pile of grading, parent contacts, and preparing everything I could for Monday so that I might actually have part of a day of the weekend to myself.

I had just slumped down in my chair when Taylor burst back into the room.

"Give me back my chapstick," she demanded as the door slammed shut behind her.

"Taylor, why aren't you in the office?" I hadn't expected them to keep her, but there was plainly no way she could have made it down there, received her consequence, and returned this quickly. It hadn't even been ten minutes.

"No. You stole my property. You can't punish me when you're the one who took my stuff."

"Did you make it to the office?"

"Give it to me now."

I could already feel a tension headache setting in. More than that, I decided then and there that I'd had my fill of her attempted bullying. "No. For crying out loud, you threw it, Taylor. You hit Jesse in the head. You could have easily hit him in the eye. You didn't even apologize! Then you defied--"

"Give it to me!" She took a step closer, looming over me. Or shoving her breasts in my face to throw me. I was never sure how conscious of that tactic she was, but as self-conscious as girls her age tended to be, I'd be surprised if she wasn't aware of what she was doing.

Either way, I wasn't about to cave. "No. Go to the office. I'll be telling Mr. Horen that you--"

"I'm not going anywhere until you give it to me. You're stealing, and it's mine!"

The bell rang. "And now you're late for the seventh period, too. Get yourself to--"

But she took only one step closer, perilously close. "Not without my property!" she said.

I was at a loss. Nothing in life had prepared me to deal with this level of entitlement run amok. A few more failed attempts at asserting myself were met with more looming, to the point that my chair was forced further and further back just to keep her from making contact with those things. Her chapstick remained firmly clenched in my fist. With no other recourse apparent, I grabbed my desk phone and pressed the button for the main office. Despite Taylor shouting in righteous indignation over me, I managed to convey that I needed assistance from the school resource officer.

Officer Louisa Barbour arrived only a moment later than I wished she had, right after Taylor gave up shouting and began attempting to pry her purloined lip balm from my hand, and right before it occurred to me that the optics on this were terrible. My profound gift of hindsight belatedly pointed out that it would have been better to let her have the stupid thing and then deal with the consequences for her antagonism after. Instead, Officer Barbour walked in on Taylor fully straddling my lap, her chest pressed hard against mine as she tried to reach my clenched fist stretched out behind me. It was easily the most compromising moment of my professional career.

Barbour separated us swiftly and easily. Taylor was strong, but caught unawares by a trained officer, she was easily displaced from my lap. The chapstick was still somehow in my hand, and we were both breathing heavily. I probably looked afraid to have been caught with a student in that position, even if it was clearly not anything intimate, but really, I was hoping neither of them noticed the blood rushing to parts unmentionable. The last time a woman who had been in such a position relative to my person had been the stripper at my friend's bachelor party the summer before last.

The resource officer took point in figuring out what in the hell had been going on. I had to hand it to her; she did a good job redirecting Taylor's anger and bringing her back to the point of making comprehensible statements. Recognizing that asking her to take my side would only get the girl's hackles back up when she turned to me, I kept my end brief and as unemotional as possible.

"So are you going to make him give my property back or what? That's illegal, right?" the student demanded, arms folded impetuously.

"Taylor, I understand you're upset. And yes, you'll get it back." Barbour turned to me. "Right?"

"Yes. Tomorrow. Or, well, Monday, since we're not here tomorrow," I said.

Taylor's eyes smoldered, but she'd gotten a concession and a timeline and didn't press the matter further. That was good. It'd get her off my back, and I wouldn't have to reward her in the here and now. Not like I'd ever meant to keep the stupid thing anyway. I simply hadn't been in the mood to be bossed around by a bratty teenager. Well done, Louisa.

"There. Now, you know you can't get physical with a teacher like that, right? We've talked about this. You have to find ways to deal with your frustration. Remember?"