The second hand diligently marched forward, continuing its sentry between twelve and six. Its progress was perceived as both sluggish and relentless - as the passing of time can be subjectively warped by separate parties. The glint of the chrome rim showed no reflection - although, again, that may have been a product of perception - neither observer had an advantageous angle on the clock that was mounted above the doorway of the classroom.
Howard ran and hand through his auburn hair and pretended that the attention to his well-worn copy of Watership Down remained unwavering. He wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at the timepiece - but it had been enough to draw the unapologetic stare of Gale.
“We could just go now.” Gale said calmly. His posture while sitting in the desk projected a confidence that remained just slightly shy of entitlement.
“That’s not the point,” the English teacher replied, cautious not to surrender his attention. “You’re here until four.”
“Why?”
“Because if I let you leave early, the threat of discipline rings hollow.”
Gale hadn’t stopped staring. Howard could feel it, and continued to focus just as intently at the text before him, though he didn’t know why.
“But if you’re just keeping me here because you’re supposed to, doesn’t that mean that there’s not a whole lot to this ‘Detention’ thing?”
They both listened to another patrol of the minute hand before Howard let out a put-upon sigh.
“Why, exactly, do you save your rhetoric when you are not supposed to be in this classroom, Gale?”
“What do you mean?”
The haggard educator relented and raised his eyes to meet the pair of steely irises that affixed to him as soon as he had sat down some minutes earlier. His left hand flipped the front cover to close the book in an ornery fashion, causing a light clap against the oak of the desk.
“We spend at least one day a week in here together, Gale. We do this because I have to maintain a certain level of respect for authority.”
“Okay.”
“And in order to maintain that respect, I have to show that there are consequences for not treating me as an authority figure. And for reasons I have yet to divine, you seem to be devoted to forcing my hand in demonstrating those consequences.”
“Okay.”
Another half-patrol.
“Gale. It’s not hard to participate in a classroom discussion.”
The sophomore crossed his arms, a sign of defensive behavior that Howard could not yet judge as a step in the right direction. That hope sunk when the corner of his mouth slightly turned upward in a sneer of defiance.
“I never said it was hard.”
The five fingers of Howard’s right hand gripped the edge of his desk - the knuckles below lightly jaundiced fingernails turning white in silent rage. He thought of a study he had once read regarding the ability of humans with a severed corpus callosum to function with a split brain. As far as he was aware, the nervous tissue between each hemisphere remained intact, but his balancing act between the thin veneer of malaise and the cancerous growth of frustration had facilitated the illusion of a comparable ability. After he forced out a slow, emphatic breath from his nostrils, his grip relaxed.
“Your behavior seems to suggest the contrary.”
Gale’s eyes casually shifted to the clock, then came full circle to return to meet Howard’s.
“I just think we’re wasting our time.”
His assertion was met with a sardonic laugh, choked out of an esophagus that had produced many.
“Well, at least we’re on the same page there.”
“I don’t mean here. I mean in class.”
The teacher rose, calmly followed the perimeter of weathered oak edges, and crossed to the rank-and-file rows of smaller desks. The common observer would mistake the choice as an exercise in intimidation - however, both knew that such a tactic would fail to hold any relevance in what had become a tradition.
“I’m sorry you don’t find my lesson plan interesting. But to suggest that I’m robbing the class of it’s time…that’s hard to take as anything but a personal affront.”
He punctuated his reply with a swift, harsh turn of the desk that sat in front of the one Gale currently occupied. He sat down, opposite of the student.
“Our time. Not the class’ time.”
Howards eyes narrowed, betraying his surprise. He waited for the inevitable follow up.
“I spend my time concentrating on where I want to go and you spend yours trying to figure out how you never got there.”
Another half-patrol.
“Get the fuck out of my classroom.”
