Life, Libertea, and the Pursuit of Happiness

home for the holidays

Things were quiet; much more quiet than they usually were at Namlot. There were three days left until Christmas break, and while there was an air of excitement among everyone, there was also an unspoken acknowledgement that everyone was completely over the whole school thing. This acknowledgement absolutely included the dozen or so teachers who had been called in after school by Watkins for a meeting.

Jones slouched down in his seat, trying to ignore the sound of the clock ticking. While they were waiting for Watkins, that was the only sound that could be heard in the meeting room. The history teacher looked around at who else was sitting at the long table. Grey was across from him, lazily scrolling though something on his phone, as most of the others were. Sykes and Young were on either side of Jones while Sharma sat on the other side, to the right of Grey and to the left of Hanson. On the other side of Grey were the three members of the Super Health Team, and across from them were Hutchins, Browne, and Reed (or, as Jones called them, the Token Girls). So, basically, it was a table full of people that Jones did not want to be sitting at a table with.

Watkins had yet to arrive, and everyone was conflicted between wanting him to get there as quickly as possible so they could get this over with and wanting him to never show up, because, honestly, who in the history of Namlot had ever wanted Watkins to show up somewhere?

You would never guess, however, that anyone at the table was feeling anything at all. It was Wednesday, and Friday would be the last day of school before Christmas break. So, basically, it was one of the worst days possible for the teachers to be called for a meeting. Everyone had given up at this point, and the email from Watkins that they'd received earlier that day had made things so, so much worse.

A minute or two later (though Jones could have sworn it was more like twenty), the door to the meeting room was finally pushed open, and in walked Watkins, taking his seat at the head of the table and dropping a pile of papers down in front of him. He sighed heavily, looking around as if he couldn't remember who he'd invited to this meeting. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, but the string of colorful lights half-heartedly strung up above the bulletin board behind him helped... a little? Jones wondered if the person who'd put them there had truly believed that it made things more festive. In reality, things were the same amount of depressing as usual, just with more Christmas lights.

"We have to have our annual Christmas party on Friday," Watkins said, finally breaking the silence and running a hand through his hair.

Most of the teachers were unaffected by this reminder. Browne was the only one who showed any reaction to it, perking up a bit at the mention of a party. "Oh, that's right! I'm making cookies."

"We already know we're having a party," Jones said. "You called a meeting to tell us something you sent out an email about last week?"

Watkins glared at the history teacher. "No. I called you all here because whenever disaster strikes at this Goddamn school, it's always you people that are behind it. Maybe more so four of you in particular-" he paused to look at Jones, Grey, Young, and Sykes each individually- "but the rest of you are hated by association."

"I don't even know why I'm here," Hanson spoke up, voice cracking at the word here. He looked down at his hands, which were clasped together and resting on the table in front of him, shaking slightly. "I only even know, like, three people here."

Watkins looked at him, squinting a bit as if he couldn't see clearly. "I don't know why you're here, either, actually. I... don't even know who you are, to be completely honest."

"He's with me," Sharma said, speaking for the frequently forgotten technology teacher. He looked over at Hanson. "We're getting vegan frozen yogurt after this, remember?"