Ghosts, Ghouls, and the Inbetweens

Chapter 10.5: School

Max dreaded going to school, especially considering it was the day after Hedrick's funeral. It felt... strange, walking back into this building. It pained him, in many ways.

He couldn't look forward to seeing Hedrick in class or during lunch anymore. No one who would help him with homework when he didn't understand anymore. He didn't have his best friend anymore.

He stood in front of the school building, class would start soon. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and walked in. He walked straight to class, ignoring the stares from his peers. Everyone had been informed of Hedrick's passing, it was common news at this point.

Max made it to the class room, he stood in the doorway, stopped by the stares of his peers and teacher. They just looked at him, completely silent. Max turned away and sat down in his desk, pulling out his notebook and ready to do the work.

He felt everyone's gaze, they wouldn't stop staring at him, it was... creepy. The bell rang, the teacher cleared his throat. "Today we'll be picking up where we left off in our poetry unit. We were just starting to write our own poems, correct?"

Sounds of agreement came from the crowd, Max only stared at the board, doodling in his notebook. The teacher smiled, "Right then, do we remember the basics of poems? What they're composed of and their structure?"

The teacher did a quick recap of poem structure on the board, the students didn't seem to have forgotten, but then again it would be useful for an absent minded teen. Max only ignored the recap, he knew how poems were constructed, this wasn't news to him.

The recap had finished, the teacher backed away from the board. "Alright, now you're poems can be about anything, it could be about your dog, or your long weekend, or you're crush! I don't care, just make sure they're actually poems.

Anything?

Max knew damn well what he was writing about, he immediately set to work. His pen shook slightly as he started to write the first word.

Hedrick.

Of course it was about him. Hedrick. Hedrick, Hedrick, Hedrick, Hedrick, Hedrick.

Max continued to write, he felt his hand start to tremble. He kept writing, ignoring his sudden urge to sob, he wasn't about to cry in class, not today.

The teacher looked over Max, he seemed so focused, he sighed. He maneuvered over to Max's seat, placing a hand on the desk.

"Hey, Max."

The boy glanced up at him, his expression was one of annoyance, anger, and a pinch of sadness.

"So... I know losing your best friend is rough, especially while you're young. And personally I feel terrible about what happened to Hedrick, and I know you're still thinking about it. So if you ever feel overwhelmed about it... you can just go to the councilors office. No questions asked."

Max narrowed his eyebrows, "No." He went back to writing his poem. The teacher frowned.

"Huh?"

"I don't need help. I'm fine." Max spat out, he was writing fast, his handwriting was sloppy and pretty much illegible. The teacher sighed, he decided it would be better to leave Max alone; the kid had been through a lot, give him a rest. He walked back to his desk, leaving Max to finish his poem.