Chapter Text
I know I should be focusing on class, but honestly, this school didn't deserve it. I despise this place with a burning passion.
With everything that happened to my sister here, you'd expect my father to do something to make sure I didn't end up here.
But no.
I'm at Winslow High, the school that nearly killed my sister.
So I couldn't really bring myself to be invested in the lesson my history teacher, Mr. Miller, was so clearly trying his hardest to teach. He spoke with so much passion and was honestly one of the few teachers here that I found decent. I'm pretty sure he was one of those theater kids growing up, and he never exactly grew out of it.
Passion is always a good thing!
...
Then I remembered the passion that went into the Locker Incident and shook my head.
Passion is mostly a good thing!
"But after hours of bloodshed, the Protectorate finally claimed vic—"
The bell rang, interrupting him and making his shoulders scrunch together. His face fell, his eyes losing the spark he'd put into the lesson.
"Oh. Well... that's fine!" he said, putting on a bright smile. "You kids have a good lunch!"
As everyone shuffled out, I was quick to follow. I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible and do literally anything else. An hour honestly felt too short for lunch.
Except a hand landed on my shoulder.
I quickly turned around and saw Mr. Miller.
"Damon... could you stay behind for a little bit?" Mr. Miller asked politely.
I groaned in exasperation.
"What?! Why?! I haven't done anything!"
He winced at how loud I was, which made me feel a little bad. I've been trying to work on that.
"Don't worry, Damon. You're not in trouble. I just wanted to ask you a couple questions." Mr. Miller smiled. "Would that be alright?"
I nodded instead of speaking, worried I'd end up being way too loud again.
He smiled back and walked over to the door, leaving it mostly closed with only a small crack open.
"Now we can finally talk. First things first: I know your family has had an awful time with this school, so I'd just like to ask... are you alright?"
I was a little taken aback by how genuine he sounded.
Taylor's notebook always described the teachers here as dishonest jerks.
His tone, however, was straightforward. Honest.
It made me smile.
"Honestly, I... really miss my sister, but things could be worse!" It was my turn to put on a facade. "The two incidents back-to-back really made my dad realize he had to step up." It didn't. "and—and we've been able to spend more time together."
That wasn't true either.
The way Mr. Miller was staring at me, frowning, I could tell he saw straight through me.
Crap.
I felt myself tense, slipping unconsciously into a boxer's stance. I was ready for a fight over the smallest inconvenience.
"Calm down, bud. I'm happy to hear things are getting a little better with your dad," he said soothingly. It wasn't overly condescending.
Maybe just a little.
I tried to relax my stance, but I felt strangely disappointed.
I wanted him to call out the lie. I wanted him to push me, just so I could show off my fighting ability.
"There is something else I wanted to talk to you about, though..." he said, glancing away.
"Hit me!"
Please.
"I'm rather new to Brockton Bay, and it's my first time teaching here. It's a bit embarrassing to admit, but... I don't want a repeat of what happened to your sister."
The mention of Taylor immediately made me tense again.
"Could you keep an eye out for bullying for me? I really need to focus on teaching, and sometimes it's hard for me to notice everything."
What?
That's... kind of weird.
Is he literally asking me to do part of his job for him?
What the hell?
Though...
He'd seemed genuine from the start.
He was new to Brockton Bay. He was probably just overwhelmed.
Yeah.
Yeah, that had to be it.
"Okay, I can do that, Mr. Miller. You can count on me!"
He smiled softly in response.
"Thank you, Damon. You're a good kid."
I nodded awkwardly.
Then I walked out.
The halls were mostly empty now, save for a couple of people. I sighed in relief.
The three villainesses of Winslow High never went as hard on me as they had on Taylor, but sometimes one of them would still mess with me.
I really couldn't deal with any of them right now.
I was already in a fighter's mindset, and I didn't need anyone getting in the way of what I was about to do.
I hurried through Winslow's front doors and broke into a run.
I really needed to patrol soon before I hurt someone.