Broken English (Broken Lives Book 1) (4 page)

4

CLARA

I entered my classroom, the place I was
making my own—a small pocket in the school, where I wanted to foster
literature. I also wanted to help the students pass the year with flying
colours, like no other teacher could achieve in such a challenging environment.
My smile dropped and shattered against the floor at the chaos before me. Half
the students were sitting on their desks, looking like they were at a party, not
school. They were too busy talking to notice me standing in the doorway,
staring at them in shock. In the far corner, a group of boys had gone a step
further and pushed their desks together, forming a makeshift stage. They were
staring up at a Maori girl, or more accurately
up
her short skirt. She
was dancing on the desktops, shaking her arse to a rap song, which was coming
from a giant boom-box—a metallic remnant of the eighties. She had dusky skin
and a sultry face, with a halo of afro hair framing it. One of the boys, a fat
kid who was probably twice my size and weight—if not more, ran his large hand
up her leg. She kicked his palm and continued dancing, looking like she was
enjoying the attention. The handsy boy stood up and yanked her off the desk.
The girl squealed, while the other boys laughed.

“What are you doing?” I shouted, making
them all jolt. “Put her down, now!”

Young faces all turned my way, noticing me
for the first time. They were a group of Year Elevens, mostly made up of fifteen-year-olds.
There was a mixture of ethnicities, a real melting pot of diversity.

“I said, put her down!” I repeated, knowing
this
had
to be the juvie class. My previous classes weren’t exactly
angels, but they were cherubs in comparison to this motley crew. “And turn off
that music.”

The mountainous boy let go of the girl and
held up his hands as though I was pointing a gun at him. “We were just having
fun, miss.”

“Yeah, miss,” the girl said snidely,
looking annoyed I’d interrupted her Stripping 101 class. “It wuz just fun.” She
switched off the music and leaned in to give the large boy a hug, the top of
her head level with his chest. “He’s my friend.”

“Just get back to your seat,” I said, pumping
up my voice, knowing I needed to sound authoritative, especially with my
youthful appearance. Since I looked more like an older sister than a teacher, the
kids in my other classes had assumed they could push me around, but I’d put
them all in their place, quickly mapping out who was boss. And I had to admit,
it felt good, like an initiation I had to pass to get their respect.

My attention moved to the other boys in
the group. “And put those desks back where they belong.”

“They belong right where they are,” a male
voice answered from behind the large boy.

“No, they don’t,” I said, angling my head
to see who’d spoken, the fat boy blocking my view. “So put them back.”

“Since you’re new here, I’ll give you a
word of advice.” The owner of the voice rose up.

My eyes widened. It was Dante—the student
I’d helped.

He grimaced at me, not appearing surprised
to see me. “Don’t rat people out if you want them to play nice,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You dobbed me in to the principal.”

I glanced at the messed-up desks, wondering
whether this was some sort of misplaced revenge. “I never spoke to him. The
secretary said he already knew what had happened.”

Dante narrowed his eyes. “Which means, you
were
gonna rat me out, just someone else beat you to it.”

“I had no intention of getting you into
trouble, if that’s what you’re inferring,” I replied, the fact he wasn’t a
senior finally dawning on me.

I’d been attracted to a fifteen-year-old!

No, he couldn’t possibly be that young.
With the way he looked and talked, he must have been held back by at least a
year.

Dante tilted his chin up, a slight sneer
pulling at his lips. “I’ll let you off this time, just don’t interfere in my
business again. I won’t be so nice next time.”

My eyebrows shot up at his audacity. “Is
that right?” I said, thinking Beverly’s observation was spot on. He
was
an arrogant so-and-so.

He nodded. “And just so you know, English
is our free period, where we do what we want.”

“Not in my class,” I said, heading for my
desk, knowing he was testing me. “So, how about you and your friends straighten
the desks so we can get started.”

“On what?”

“English, of course.”

“Why? It’s a pointless subject, especially
since we already
speaka de Engleesh
.”

“It’s not pointless,” I replied, not
letting him provoke me. “It’ll help you develop your understanding of the
language so you can articulate yourself better.”

“Did you just trash how I talk?” he
snapped, his dark eyes flaring at me.

I shook my head. “No, I was being general.
English is also important for a number of professions.”

A smirk wiped away his annoyed expression.
“As long as I can spell
marijuana
,
coke
, and
heroin
, I’m sure
my future,” he made quote marks with his fingers, “
profession
is safe. It’s
the only reason I pay attention in Science. Now,
that’s
a subject worth
doin’.”

His mates laughed, a few of them pumping
fists as though they thought Dante had one-upped me. He sat down on his desk,
looking like he thought so too.

Keeping my cool, I pulled off my satchel.
“Get off the desk.”

Dante’s butt remained where it was. “Why?”

“You have a chair for a reason.”

“I’m comfortable right ’ere.”

“Well,
I’m
not comfortable with you
there, so how about you do me a favour since I did you one.”

He smirked. “Did’ja say you did me once?
Cos I must’ve been really drunk since I don’t remember it. Or maybe you weren’t
that memorable.”

More laughter followed, this time from the
whole class.

Not rising to his bait, I crossed my arms
over my chest. “You know what I said, so get off your desk.”

“No, my
Engleesh
isn’t very good.
You
P
ākehā
chicks are real hard to understand,” he said, calling me white, which I thought
was hypocritical. Despite his Maori accent, he still looked like a
P
ākehā
himself,
just with an olive tint.

“I don’t like having to repeat myself,” I
said, “so get off your desk or sit on the principal’s.”

“Don’t think he’ll be keen on that, miss,”
he said with a grin.

“That’s not my problem.”

He winked at me. “’Kay, babe. I’ll let ya
win this round.”

He slid down into his chair, ordering the
other boys to fix their desks. He was obviously the motley crew’s leader, a
dictator in scruffy, grass-stained clothes.

Once the desks were fixed, he winked at me
again. “I expect special brownie points for this, babe.”

“It’s Mrs. Hatton to you,” I said, heading
for the whiteboard. I picked up the marker and spelled out my name in large
black letters.

After I’d finished, I turned to face the
class, feeling nervous for the first time as all eyes zeroed in on me. The
adrenalin that had been pumping through my veins only seconds ago dissipated at
a rapid rate. I cleared my throat, assuring myself that I was going to get
through this lesson like I had with all my other ones.

“As you can see, I’m Mrs. Hatton,” I said,
sweeping my gaze over the class. “I will be your...” I stopped talking,
noticing the wicked smirk on Dante’s face. He looked like he was up to
something. Or maybe he was waiting for me to make a fool of myself, which I
wasn’t
going to do.

I went to continue with my introduction,
but faltered as his dark gaze started travelling down the length of my body,
lazily taking in every curve. His gaze swept back up quicker, pausing on my
chest for a brief moment, before settling on my face again.

“I-I’m obviously your English teacher,” I
stuttered out, “so...”

The words left my mouth again as he licked
his upper lip, giving me a blatantly sexual look. He wasn’t the first kid to
check me out, but he was the first to make my mouth run dry, the boy far too sensual-looking
for my own good. His friends started sniggering, no doubt realising he was
distracting me. I quickly looked away, ignoring the boys elbowing each other in
amusement.

I cleared my throat once more, determined
to get through the class. “So, I’m going to call attendance now,” I said, picking
up the roll call folder. I started reading their names out. To my relief they
replied without giving me trouble, only a few sniggers stopping it from being
perfect.

Everything was going fine until I came to
Dante’s name. Without thinking I called it out, stupidly asking whether he was
here, something I should’ve known not to do, since it was an invitation for
trouble.

He closed his eyes. “
Oh
... yes,
yes, YES!” he shouted, sounding like he was coming. He expelled a huge sigh,
drawing it out. “I’m
here
.” He opened his eyes, his smirk growing as the
other students burst out laughing, some of them hooting, “Yeah, boy!” like they
were giving him some sort of verbal high five.

“A simple
here, miss
would’ve been
sufficient,” I replied. “And the rest of you, stop laughing,” I added, controlling
my voice, not letting on that they were annoying me.

I resumed taking the roll, now even more determined
to get through the lesson without losing my temper. Luckily, the rest of the
kids answered their names without issue, Dante obviously the class clown. After
I’d called out the last name, Dante piped up again.

“Do you give private
lessons?” he
asked, his leer telling me he wasn’t referring to English ones.

The tenuous thread, that had been barely
holding the class in check, snapped. Hoots and childish remarks bounced off the
walls like cannon fire, ripping holes through my eardrums. I was sure the far
end of the school could hear them, the noise they were making ridiculous.

“Be quiet!” I hollered, having to shout it
more than once before they settled down. I levelled a glare at Dante, who
looked like he was having fun, his eyes shining so brightly they could have had
their own solar system.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying my class so
much,” I said dryly. “But please keep your comments class related or I
will
send you to the principal.”

He smirked. “Aye, aye, darling, I promise
I’ll keep my mouth shut.” He pretended to zip his lips.

Shaking my head at him, I went to start
the lesson, hoping I could get through it all with the amount of time he’d
wasted. But before I could get a word out, rap music started up, the sounds of
California
Love
making me jolt. My eyes snapped back to Dante, who’d shifted the boom-box
to his desk, the tin can blasting loud.

“Turn that off,” I yelled.

Smiling, he leaned his arms on the boom-box,
resting his chin on top.

“Turn it off!”

He turned it up.

Finally losing my temper, I stalked over
to his desk and leaned across the boy sitting next to him, reaching for the
boom-box’s switch. Dante clamped a hand over it.

“Move your hand,” I ordered.

He turned the music even higher.

“Dante!”

“That’s my name, what’s yours?” he asked,
finally speaking.

“It’s on the whiteboard, so turn it off!”

“No, I wanna know your first name. Gimme
it and I’ll do whatever you desire.”

“Clara.”

Smiling wickedly, he switched the music
off. “Cool, now I have sumpthin’ to call out when I come.”

The class burst out laughing yet again.

“You just earned yourself a detention,” I
snapped.

He snorted. “You’re really threatening
me
with detention?”

I nodded, thinking one wasn’t enough for
him. “For today and tomorrow.”

He laughed.

“What’s so funny?!”

He stopped laughing, although a few sniggers
escaped as he answered me. “Another teacher has already given me detention for
the week, so you’ve gotta give me more incentive to shut my mouth.”

“An education.”

He snorted out another laugh. “You don’t
needa educate me.”

“Yes, I do, it’s what I get paid for.”

“Nah, you’re gettin’ paid to babysit us,
cos once this year’s up, you and every other adult can’t make us do jack shit.”

“Why are you being so rude to me?”

“I’m just stating how it is, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your sweetheart and you can go to
the principal’s. I’ve had enough of you.”

“Mmmh, I’ll never get enough of you.” Keeping
his eyes on me, he placed his hands on his desk and pushed back, scraping his chair
across the lino flooring, probably damaging it in the process. He rose to his
feet and hooked his bag over a shoulder. His friend moved his chair forward,
letting Dante squeeze past him. He grabbed the boom-box and pursed his lips,
giving me an air kiss. “See ya later,
sweetheart
.” He strutted towards
the door, leaving it banging in his wake, making me shake with fury.