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Monday

The atmosphere was off on Monday.
The normal begrudging, tired Aura of contempt for academics which was present every other Monday was absent, replaced instead by a strange electrifying buzz.

Everyone was talking about something. Groups of students in the hallways, kids congregated on the front steps, even the musical kids dressed in capes and masks and who ordinarily were emitted bat like screeches in the name of opera, were quiet.

Ashton found it eerily quiet as he made his way from his car up the front steps, through several adjacent corridors and down a flight of stairs to the small, Windowless closet sized space that was his office.

He wondered at first if there was some sort of bomb threat floating around, then quickly dismissed the idea knowing one of the freshman would squeal, they always did.

Loosening his tie, his shower damp hair clinging to the sweaty skin of his forehead, Ashton turned on the small fan which sat amongst the stacks of ungraded papers and piles of Christmas, Birthday and Teacher Appreciation Day trinkets he'd received from his students.

Sinking down into the swivel chair he'd purchased at a garage sale several months prior, Ashton placed his feet on his desk, his pants hitching up just enough to reveal his mismatched socks since his washing machine had a terrible habit of keeping one of every pair  as an offering.

His stomach growling in hunger, young professor pulled a granola bar from his pocket and took a bite before opening up a well used and faded copy of The Great Gatsby, one of his favorite novels.

So much did he love the piece of literature that he could quote it in it's entirely by heart.  So well was he versed in the material that every year the exam was a completely new one comprised of unused questions.

Ashton was perfectly content to spend the hour and half before class started unmoving and enjoying himself immensely, however, the tranquility of the moment was interrupted as the door to his office flew open, hitting the wall behind it with a bang undoubtedly leaving a crater in poster of of Atilla The Hun hung behind it.

Startled, Ashton sat up abruptly, placing his feet firmly on the floor and knocking a bust of Claude Monet in the process. Cursing quietly under his breath, he looked up to find his boss, Principal Grossman glowering at him from the doorway.

Standing just barely at five feet, Grossman, or Gross, as everyone, his mother included, referred to him behind his back, was a pudgy man with sausage like hands and a very red face which melted into a neck that strongly resembled a roast beef sandwich.

The collar of his shirt was always a bit too tight, causing the skin beneath his jaw to wrinkle like that or a bulldog puppy. His nose was pug like, his teeth crooked and yellowed from years of living of coffee and packages of instant noodles in his college years and one of his eyes was a little lazy, just enough that you couldn't help but notice it but also couldn't bring yourself to look long enough to decider if it was his left or his right which drooped uncomfortably.

"Mr. Grossman," Ashton greeted, running his fingertips through his hair, "Good morning."

"Save the unnecisary pleasantries Ashton," the small man grumbled, "What's this word on the street I hear about you?"

"About me sir?"

"Your wife."

"My wife sir?"

"You've got a little one on the way?"

"Oh, yes. Yes I do."

"I suppose you'll want time off?"

"Oh, to be honest I haven't really thought about it all that much I sort of just have my fingers crossed she'll have it at night or on the weekend then I'll be back the next day."

"No."

"No?"

Shaking his head Gross crammed his hands into his pockets, "You've got a week Ashton, five days. Paid days. You got a sub lined up?"

"A sub sir?"

"Christ Ashton, a substitute."

"Oh, yeah right sorry," Ashton stammered feelings his cheeks grow warm, "I'll find one."

Nodding, Gross removed a five dollar bill from his pocket and dropped it on the desk, "That's my contribution for the cookie basket." He announced gruffly, "One of your coworkers emailed me about it but I forgot who."

Tentatively picking up the money Ashton nodded slowly.

Gross then turned on his heel and started out of the room, he was nearly out the door when he stopped and turned once again, "You notice anything weird going on?"

"What do you mean sir?"

"I don't know." Gross muttered, "Felt a bit off this morning."

"The kids are acting a little suspicious." Ashton offered, "They're up to something."

"Little shits always are." Gross dismissed, "Keep a lookout will you?"

Eager to please, Ashton nodded.

And then Grossman was gone and Ashton was alone wondering where he would find a sub, when he would be receiving the rumored cookie basket and what his pupils had up their sleeves.