Liability

Chapter 31 - Dmitri

Wednesday
September 12, 2018

Dmitri only takes a detour to the teachers' lounge because he needs the spare remote controller for the projector in his classroom. One of his genius colleagues thought it would be a good idea to steal it in third period when Dmitri didn't have a class, but he only takes two steps into the room when a guy whose name he should already know — but obviously doesn't — ambushes him with a pasted-on worried frown that screams busybody.

"Deemitri," Dmitri forces down the instinctual wince at the mess the guy makes of his name, "we need to talk."

"Yes?" He holds onto his jovial facade and even smiles innocently at the guy. "Something the matter?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Two of your boys skipped out on my class today," the guy complains with a put-upon sigh, pushing up his gold-framed glasses on his nose. "You know, last year when I was freshly introduced to the school like you now, I turned a blind eye to these kids' brattiness mostly because all of my colleagues told me that ignoring their nasty habit of not turning up to class or, if there, wreaking havoc is way better than fighting a long lost war. But after what happened with Frank Mulligan... I'm sure you agree that these boys need a firm hand to keep them in line..."

Dmitri stares at the guy, wondering if What's His Name is listening to himself and the bullshit spewing from his mouth. He can't even blame his students for despising adults if this is the crap they have to face day after day from people who are supposed to have their best interest at heart. Not that he has any delusions about the kind of assholery his kids can pull but still that gives no teacher the right to just give up on them. Heck, he'd bet his degree in psychology that most of them only go way beyond normal in their behavior to get the attention they crave but don't receive from anyone around them.

"I'm sorry," Dmitri says when the guy stops for better effect or whatever, "who are you, again?"

The asshole's expression stutters and it's obvious that he has taken offense to Dmitri not knowing his name. "Dr. Tomoya Yuka, the guidance counselor. I teach Family and Consumer Sciences Education - Human Relations in grade 11." Which you should know goes unsaid loud and clear. Dmitri's fake smile widens.

"Dmitri Armand," he returns, pronouncing his first name slowly just to make sure Dr. Yuka learns something from the exchange between them, too. "And I'm sorry my students thought they could miss your important lesson on essential societal values. If you give me their names, I'll ensure they will see the error in their ways."

"I'm so glad you agree!" Yuka's round face lights up with satisfaction, his dark eyes gleaming. Is this jerkwad really responsible for the mental health of hundreds of children? "If we don't set boundaries when they are still young and able to learn their place in the world, we're going to sick a horde of monsters on our society when they leave our care. And no one wants to have their reputation linked to useless delinquents, no matter how rich their family is."

Dmitri lifts an eyebrow at that load of nonsense. "My students' names?" Maybe his tone is more clipped than he wanted it to be because Yuka frowns minutely.

"Ah yes, yes. Martinez and Prescott," the annoying gnat offers and has the gall to smirk at him in a conspiratory way before adding, "they are the worst sort."

The urge to look around to see if anyone is around to listen to this surreal more or less one-sided conversation that, now that he knows who it is about, is basically dripping with racism. But no, only the two newly hired junior high school teachers are present and they appear busy with staring at their phones comparing something with excited whispers between them. Where is Pratt or at least that busybody Choi when he's needed?