And yet another

Michael entered Mr. Andrews’ history class with the usual uneasiness. This class had quickly become his least favorite. His teacher for this class had also been his brother’s history teacher. And every day, the teacher wanted an update on how Michael’s brother was doing. “Have you heard from your brother, Michael?” “How is your brother doing, Michael?” It was a pain Michael had to endure every day. It was so strong that Michael started to despise Mr. Andrews himself. Michael had completely given up on the class. He never did any more of the homework, and didn’t put any effort into the tests. He simply did not care any more.

Michael sat down in his seat just as Mr. Andrews entered the classroom. Mr. Andrews looked down at him and Michael braced himself for the question. However, instead of asking Michael about his brother, Mr. Andrews simply handed Michael a notice from the school office. “The guidance counselor wants to see you, Michael.”

‘Great,’ thought Michael. More reasons to hate Mr. Andrews. Mr. Andrews probably ratted him out. Michael slowly slid back out of his desk and wandered down the hallway towards the school office.

Michael entered the counselor’s office and saw a heavy-set woman sitting behind a desk, facing away from the door. She looked up from the papers on her desk and motioned him to enter the room, then reached a hand out behind her and shut the door. Her eyes maintained fixed on Michael as he walked around the desk and sat down on the other side.

“Mr. Andrews has told me that you’re starting to do pretty bad in his class.”

“Yeah,” Michael replied, staring down at the desk. All he wanted to do was to leave, and he figured that, the shorter his replies, the faster it would all be over.

“But this isn’t like you, Michael. Look at your grades from last year, from last semester even. The lowest grade you have here is a B. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Michael lied. “Maybe I’m not the great student everyone thinks I am.” Now Michael was starting to get frustrated. He really just wanted to be left alone. So what if he’s failing the stupid history class?

“Mr. Andrews told me that your brother is in Kuwait.”

Michael looked up at her for a moment then broke down. Every worry about his brother, every weak block in the wall he had built to contain his fears, the pressure from trying to hold his home together, burst violently. He felt safe. There was no family to hurt here, nobody to judge him. Everything he had hidden away inside him exploded out in a flood of tears.