Apathy Jack writes:

One of the ones I’ve taken an interest in has gotten herself on Daily Report – the monitoring system for recalcitrants. I took her aside quietly.
“When do you get off report?”
“When I’m good.”
“Right. Well, I’ll do you a deal.”
“Okay.”
“If you’re off Report by the end of term, then I won’t break your arms and legs.”
The kid’s eyes widened as she shot me a look of pure shock.

I need to remember that they’re not used to me yet. At Hoodrat, I needed to threaten to kill them, skin them, wear their skin as a suit, and commit crimes dressed in their skin so that their reputation would be ruined and their memory would be tarnished, even to get them to look up from what they were doing...

...

Got a text from a number I didn’t recognise, which started “Hae dad!” The shocking spelling and grammar which followed marked it as a being from a student, and I wondered to myself how the Year 11 who has taken to referring to me as her father in the last fortnight got my number. I read further, and realised it was from one of my old Year 9s from Hoodrat, who had similarly taken to addressing me as “Dad”.

I’m not sure what this says about society, but it’s probably nothing good...

...

ERO have been in the New School this week, and, as is the style, Management have been running around like headless chickens in preparation. I’ve been blasé about the whole thing, having lived through more ERO visits than most right-thinking people. Chatting to the Principal, I mentioned that I’d probably be on first-name terms with the ERO people, and that the visit to my class would probably go something like:
“Jack!”
“Phil! Good to see you, mate.”
“Still doing all the same stuff?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, then I guess we’re done here.”
“Always a pleasure. How’s the wife?”
“She sends her regards.”
The Principal, who so far has about a fifty percent ratio of getting when I’m kidding, earnestly told me she was sure I hadn’t been through that many visits.

So I happen to be walking past her office when the ERO team are having their introductory meeting.
“Jack!” One of them calls out.
I go and hug my old acquaintance hello as the Principal looks on in horror.

I’m so pleased it’s worked out the way it has that I throw in “The gang’s back together!” loud enough for the boss to overhear.


Life is good.