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In his rush to escape to the teacher’s lounge to have his lunch after the class period finally ended, Dražen had forgotten his lunch in his mini fridge in his classroom. Irritating, yes, but he didn’t particularly mind making the walk back all too much. Having to stand in one place and pace around slightly certainly didn’t do his legs any good. It was a good stretch.
On the short walk back to his classroom, Dražen dimly noted that the door appeared to be pushed open, barely ajar. He could’ve sworn he’d closed and locked it, no? Then again, he did forget from time to time to do so. Besides, the lights were off. He probably did just forget.
Reaching the door, Dražen opened it and flicked the classroom lights back on. Before he could turn towards his mini fridge, he heard a faint gasp. He flinched, whipping his head in the direction of the sound.
He half-expected it to be the moronic history teacher from down the hall, doing something strange in his classroom to try and inconvenience him, but he knew better than that. What he didn’t expect, however, was for the source of the sound to come from none other than…
…little Erik Nordvik, sitting hunched over in her assigned seat towards the back of the classroom, holding a sandwich with a few bites taken out of it with her open lunchbox and smartphone on her desk. She gripped her sandwich tightly, her fingers making indents in the soft bread, the ingredients slowly spilling out. Mascara dripping down her face, she stared at him with wide, frightened, teary eyes that made her look like a deer that was about to get hit by a car.
Silence washed over them, the only sound in the room coming from the TikTok playing on Erik’s phone. Dražen blinked at her stupidly, thoroughly shocked at the sight. Was she taking refuge in his classroom? For what reason? And why his classroom? No student in the world had ever done that before!
Before he could get ahold of himself, Erik stood and began frantically packing up her things, aggressively wiping her eyes with her sleeve, smudging her mascara. She fumbled with her messy fingers as she tried to re-wrap her sandwich, shakily sputtering, “I’m sorry, I’ll go, I- I didn’t think you’d come back!” Her naturally quiet voice was many pitches higher than usual. Her thick accent made her a bit difficult to understand, but Dražen could get the idea well enough.
He snapped back into the reality of the situation. The gravity of whatever it was that could be happening that led to her choosing his classroom for lunch as opposed to the actual cafeteria settled on him, uncomfortably heavy. He wasn’t used to situations like this quite at all, but he certainly knew that he needed to act quickly. Hastily, Dražen spoke, approaching her with his hands out as if cautiously walking towards an injured bird, “No, no, you don't need to leave!”
Erik halted her movements, looking uneasy and unsure. He’d never seen a girl look so frightened before. She stared at him, expectant and terrified. Her eyes were a little red.
Gah, what was he supposed to say here? He’d never had this happen before! This was so strange! So weird! He knew it was common for students to have their lunches outside of the cafeteria. He’d walked in on enough meaningless conversations between Mr. Mišić and his students during his free periods throughout the years to understand the basic social norm of slightly irregular children. But wouldn’t they, argh, talk to the teacher about it first? Or something like that? Why did she go to his classroom by herself? Why was she eating in the dark?
Most of all, why did she come to his classroom? The question rang loudest in his mind. It was something so incomprehensible to him. It wasn’t like Dražen took pride in the fact that he was so unapproachable and disliked by his students, but it was a fact that he knew good and well. He wasn’t someone that children found comfort in. He was an obstacle that challenged their intelligence.
He wasn’t, well, mentally or socially equipped for this sort of thing. It dawned at him that, for all the times he poked fun at Mr. Mišić for with his students more than actual adults, he had to give it to him: he, for once, socially had the upper hand in one singular situation. Dražen would sooner die than let him know such a fact.
As he stood there stupidly, Erik, likely sensing his apprehension and apparent social ineptitude, mumbled a few more apologies and insistences that she leave, wiping her fingers on the napkin in her lunch box that had been dampened by her ice pack.
Dražen came to his senses again, shaking his head rapidly both at himself and at Erik. “Sorry, sorry, no! Don’t leave! Stay!” He needlessly adjusted his glasses, approaching her slowly, as if she were an injured animal. He straightened his posture, attempting to regain his composure. In a more measured voice, he continued, “I apologize. I didn’t expect to see you here. Please, sit.”
Erik stalled for a moment, as if expecting more from him. When nothing else came, she slowly nodded. She sat down in her desk chair again, looking up at him. Needlessly, Dražen took note of what she was wearing. She always dressed strangely winteresque no matter the weather, just as her mother tended to do. A knitted cardigan and a long skirt.
Clearing his throat, Dražen sat down, facing her, at the desk in front of her, resting his arms on top of the back rest of the chair. He stared again, slightly squinting at her like she was a puzzle, and cursed himself mentally for doing so. He was very, very good at talking with people. He was a loner, yes, but he functioned perfectly fine socially. So why on earth was he acting like such a mindless idiot? He didn’t have time to repeatedly blank out on this kid!
He adjusted his posture, trying to appear both mature and collected whilst also looking casual. He could only imagine how confusing it was to watch him from Erik’s perspective. Still, he persisted. “So,” he started, “Erik.”
A pause. Awkwardly, Erik whispered back, “Mr. Krleža?” The poor girl looked like she was trying to shrink into her chair until she was nothing but a pile of unraveled wool and cotton.
Dražen tilted his head to the side a little. “What brings you here?”
Erik stared. Her eyes flickered to her lunch box, then back to Dražen. “Um,” she started, with that nervous tremor in her voice that was always there whenever she spoke, “I’m having my lunch?”
Yes, thank you. He was not aware of that at all. Of course. Dražen felt like his brain was being strangled. “Right. I see that,” he replied, trying to huff out a small laugh as he spoke. “Why are you having your lunch in my classroom?” He attempted to keep a light smile on his face. Appear friendly. Be as nice as possible. Heaven knows how delicate this situation could be.
Looking down at her lunch, Erik seemed to be thinking carefully about her response. Dražen peered curiously at the contents of her lunchbox while she thought. A small fish sandwich, an apple, and a little bag of chocolate Teddy Grahams. Accompanied by her phone and an absurdly large water bottle. It looked like it was bigger than a litre. Seriously, what was with kids and those damn water bottles?
“It’s quiet in here,” Erik eventually responded after her long contemplation. “The cafeteria is loud. I like to eat when it’s quiet.” And that was all she had to say.
Right. Right. Dražen knew damn well she was avoiding answering the real question of why did you specifically come to my classroom to eat and cry when I am the least comforting person in the entire school, but he found himself doubting if he should actually continue to press on the issue. An intuitive part of himself said that she would likely try to get up and leave again if he did.
Yet, there was clearly some sort of important conversation to be had. How was he supposed to get there with all of these obstacles? Agh! He wasn’t made for this sort of thing! This was Mišić’s thing!
He simply nodded back at her. “It is quiet in here, yes.” He sounded like a goddamn ape. “Was there any reason why you were eating with the lights o—“
“I like to eat when it’s quiet,” Erik interrupted him, voice sounding unusually stern and hard, and a little bit more audible than normal. Dražen straightened, visibly taken aback. Erik stared at him pointedly, eyes darting to his desk, then back to him. A fleeting second of silence passed before Dražen nodded, getting up and walking back over to his desk. He stopped at the mini fridge, first, pulling out his lunch before properly sitting down.
Erik was quite far away from this new angle. He never noticed how distant she was from his desk before. Perhaps it was because she was the only one in the classroom? The moment that she wasn’t surrounded by more boisterous, obnoxious students, she became more visible. Maybe that meant something? Everything about her seemed to suddenly starkly contrast the entire room despite the natural greens and browns of her outfits blending in with the colors of the classroom.
Dražen felt her eyes watching him for a while until he finally began eating his food. Only then did she resume her lunch. They began eating in the silence.
Normally, Dražen wouldn’t find this so overbearing. He appreciated peace and quiet as much as the next person. This, however, felt suffocating. Wasn’t the whole point of students choosing teacher’s classrooms over the cafeteria was to talk to their teachers instead of their peers? If she wanted to eat in silence, why wouldn’t she just eat in the bathroom? Immediately, Dražen felt an odd pang of shame at the thought. Something about that was probably cruel and isolating, wasn’t it?
Some part of him said that it would probably do him good to talk to Mišić about this kind of thing, but he hated imagining the smug look coming to his face at the notion of Dražen needing social help. Eugh. He knew he needed to learn how to be more kind and delicate with his students, especially given how sensitive their generation was becoming, but if that was what she needed, then why would she come to him? Dražen was not the soft and empathetic teacher that children needed. There was a clearly superior choice of comfort further down the hall. Dražen existed purely to instill the values and complexities of literature into the minds of braindead children in hopes that it would stick firmly with the smarter, quieter types.
Admittedly, Erik was one of those model students that Dražen appreciated. He did certainly appreciate her and her character. She was a good student. Intelligent and respectful. She was able to take Dražen’s coldness and harsher criticisms well. She never complained about anything apart from asking to work on her own when assigned group work. Ha. She probably hated Mr. Mišić’s class, then, didn’t she? He loved assigning group work despite being so terrible socially.
Haha.
Hm. Cogs slowly turned in his brain. Could that be why? Was Mišić too social for Erik’s tastes? Did she enjoy his class because he wasn’t nice? The thought was mind-boggling.
“What are you having for lunch?” Erik’s voice abruptly piped up, curiosity evident in her otherwise flat tone. Though her voice was naturally quiet, she was much easier to hear in the near-empty room.
Dražen flinched, surprised at the question. “Hm? What was that?”
Erik stared at him, a hint of irritation flashing on her face. Speaking more monotonously, she repeated, “What are you having for lunch.”
Oh. Oh! Hurriedly, Dražen attempted to plaster a gentle smile on his face. “I’m having a salad. And you?”
Confusingly, Erik’s face seemed to twitch in a sort of revulsion. “It’s a tuna sandwich. And stuff.” She paused, expression becoming more concentrated. She looked as though she were readying herself to say something. Hm. Curious. Then, she spoke again, “Don’t try to smile like that. It looks kind of weird on you.”
Dražen blinked, smile immediately fell to a frown. His brows furrowed together. Erik seemed to relax at that, strangely enough, and continued to eat her lunch. What the hell? He thought he was finally getting somewhere with her! “Was that an appropriate thing to say?” Bah, what was he, an elementary school teacher?
Erik glanced back up at him and mumbled an apology. Dražen grumbled to himself, deciding not to press any further. He had to remind himself that she was already in a bit of a delicate state. She had been crying when he walked in on her, for goodness’s sake!
Silence enveloped the room again soon after. Typically, Dražen would enjoy being able to eat without any obnoxious noise surrounding him, but the situation at hand left him feeling unsettled instead. He had to think about how to make this more bearable, didn’t he? Erik seemed to be lightly invested in small talk, but was obviously unwilling to talk about the real reason why she was here to begin with. He couldn’t pull the answer out of her. She obviously wouldn’t respond very well to that. He wondered lightly how Mišić would deal with a situation like this. Dražen grimaced to himself at the thought of going to him for help.
Besides, she had come to him, he reminded himself. If she wanted to talk to someone more capable of deeper and kinder conversation, she would have gone to that person. She purposefully chose the less empathetic option. Maybe she found Mr. Mišić’s friendliness too overbearing? Perhaps.
Her mother was a very reserved and cold person, too, Dražen thought. He only knew Mrs. Nordvik in passing due to having her daughter as a student, but he was able to gather her personality easily enough. She worked as an AP biology teacher in the high school. He doubted that he reminded Erik of her mother. They were very different people. However, it was very possible that Erik found comfort in the more reserved and more chilling individuals as opposed to the friendlier types purely because of what she was raised with.
Yes. That made sense.
He would stay quiet, then. Let her decide to speak instead of trying to push her closer to comfortability through meaningless small talk. She was an independent and more mature girl than her peers, and was perfectly capable of conducting herself. She was fine.
Suddenly, Dražen heard the faint sound of a sniffle. Then, a sob. All at once, the world felt still.
Dražen glanced up, praying as hard as he could that he had misheard the sound. Unfortunately for him, his prayers were denied. Looking even smaller and sadder than when he had first seen her, Erik was quietly and meekly sobbing to herself, hiding her face in her arms folded atop her desk. Her lunchbox, water bottle, and phone were pushed away.
His heart tensed and his stomach dropped. Fuck, what was he supposed to do here? He thought she could handle herself! Was he supposed to insist on talking to her after all? Before he could properly think of how to go about his newfound problem in a more logical way, he found himself stupidly standing and rushing over to her with no plan or idea as to what to do to help. What was wrong with him?
And what was wrong with her?
Awkwardly, Dražen crouched down by her side. His hand came to Erik’s shoulder, but stopped before he made contact. It hovered above her, strange and unfamiliar. Concern and worry was evident on his face. Hesitantly, he murmured, “Erik?”
She flinched, her head popping up instantly, whipping in his direction. She began spitting out apologies through choked sobs, wiping her face and thoroughly making a bigger mess of mascara around her eyes. “I’ll- I’ll go, I didn’t mean to—!”
Dražen’s hand dropped sternly on her shoulder, causing Erik to jump a little bit in surprise. Inwardly, he fought himself. He truly, earnestly did not know what he was doing, but he felt the need to act as quickly as possible. At the very least, to make her stay. Whatever it was she was hiding from was likely worse than what was happening at the moment. “Erik,” he spoke, tone more hardened than before. “What’s wrong?”
Erik stared at him for a moment longer, little hiccuping sobs escaping her throat. She sniffled, looking down at her lap, as if ashamed of herself. “I- I just don’t want to- to eat in the cafeteria.”
Seriously? He had to try his best to not become frustrated with her. Dražen nodded, then asked, slowly, “Why, Erik? It’s not just because it’s loud in there. What is it?” The words came out naturally, but internally felt forced and uncomfortable. He could only hope he was doing this correctly.
Looking as though she was about to break out into another bout of sobs Erik pressed her lips together, wobbling and wavering against the pressure. Sounding almost inaudible, she spoke in a tinny, defeated voice, “They- they make fun of me.”
Dražen faltered a tad. He had a feeling that would be the case, but the way that she had spoken in such a ‘kicked puppy’ tone made him ridiculously feel almost as though he were partially at fault for the bullying she experienced. He tilted his head, trying his best to appear as gentle as he could muster, the gesture feeling irregular. What now? He nodded in response. “What do they do?”
She looked as though he were squeezing the life out of her. “It’s nothi—“
“Erik,” he cut her off. “What do they do?” What was the point of pressing? Wouldn’t it make things worse? He wasn’t quite sure.
For a moment, she hesitated. Then, she erupted into a ramble so fast it was almost incomprehensible, “They- they’ve always made fun of me because I’m tall because- because god forbid a girl is tall, but- but I don’t even care about that anymore because I’m used to it but they started to make fun of me because of my lunches because it’s a fish sandwich so of course it smells a little bad but they act like it’s such a- such a crime and they always come over to me and pick on me and it sucks because I always eat alone so I started to eat in the bathroom but then they always go in there to vape so they literally knocked on every stall door to make sure no one was in there and they- they smelled my fucking sandwich and they were like ‘oh my god is someone on their period in here it smells so fucking bad’ and then they were like ‘wait I didn’t see Erik at her stupid sad little fucking table today I bet she’s eating lunch in here’ and they started banging on the door and yelling at me and laughing and then they just left and yesterday they were serving fucking fish sticks for lunch today because of course they were so I ate in the bathroom again because I knew that it would be bad but they found the stall I was eating in again and they- they were, like, throwing the fish sticks over the door into my stall and laughing and I just can’t do it anymore!” At that, she let out a sob, dropping her head into her hands, body shuddering as she cried.
Jesus Christ.
Dražen stared, having nodded along with every word, trying his best to follow along with the sudden rush of information. Dimly, he thought about how he wanted to choke the part of himself that wondered why she wouldn’t eat in the bathroom. How was he even supposed to respond to this? He had to be quick, but god, this was so much!
The sound of her little sobs was deafening. The longer he took to respond, the more guilty he felt for not saying anything. He knew that she wasn’t the most popular kid in school by a long shot. Erik was a girl who was six feet tall and still growing, shy, quiet, anxious, and, as her file noted, autistic. She was brilliant, but absolutely terrible with people. Dražen always assumed that she was quiet enough to avoid any sort of bullying, though. He felt like an idiot for that thought.
Tactlessly, he tapped his fingers on her shoulder, as if wanting to pat her back but feeling as though he shouldn’t. She didn’t react. Eventually, he replied, “You can eat here. Whenever you want.”
Erik nodded aggressively, whispering gratitude between sobs. Dražen remained crouched beside her, carefully watching her as she cried her heart out.
As a teacher, Dražen was required to do something in response to bullying. He was supposed to tell someone in a higher position about any kind of bullying and let them handle most of the work put towards remedying the situation. However, he also knew that things like that didn’t tend to help very much at all, and that bullies, even when given proper administrative consequence, would still continue their reign of terror. While he didn’t believe in corporal punishment (for the most part), there were times when, in his opinion, children should have the shit beaten out of them as a consequence. Giving cruel students detentions and suspensions doesn’t tend to teach them lessons unless their parents actually cared enough to realize that their child was an asshole and that they should turn them into a proper member of society. That rarely ever happened, though.
What a difficult situation.
Erik began to calm down, little by little. Her sobs gradually lessened as time went on, being replaced by deep breaths that she was taking in what appeared to be an attempt to collect herself. He had to say something now, right? Dražen opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of himself. Should he offer comfort? Ask for names? Or— “Why did you decide to come to my classroom?”
For the love of god, what was wrong with him? He swore he had more tact than this!
Despite his internal scolding of himself, the question oddly seemed to aid in Erik’s collecting of herself. In fact, it pulled a breathy laugh out of her. Her tears had stopped falling. She wiped her face once more and made attempts to smooth down her hair before she finally appeared to be capable of conversation. She turned to look at Dražen, a weak smile on her face. “I have your class next period. It’s convenient.”
Dražen blinked. His brows knit together in confusion. “What?”
“I mean,” Erik started, leaning back in her desk chair, “That’s not the only reason. There’s a bunch.”
Looking into her reddened, exhausted eyes, Dražen patiently waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he raised a brow, placing his other elbow on his knee and resting his chin on his fist. “Such as?”
She sniffed, leaning over and tapping her phone to check the time. She looked back at him, almost apologetically. “I don’t wanna hurt your feelings.”
Dražen rolled his eyes, a smile coming to his face. “I think I’ve worked with teenagers long enough to not get my feelings hurt easily, Erik.” Good. This was good. This was better. Things were calming down. He could handle something like this far better than what had happened before.
Erik looked down at her lap, fidgeting with a loose thread coming from her sleeve. Giggling a little bit as she spoke, she said, “You’re really mean and nobody likes you.”
Huh! Dražen sputtered, thoroughly thrown off. He huffed out a bewildered laugh. “Excuse me! I did not just spend the past ten minutes trying to help you just to hear you say that!”
Bubbles of laughter escaped Erik’s lips as she lifted her hands in front of herself, waving them in defense. “No, no, like, that’s not what I meant!”
“Then, pray tell, what else could you have possibly meant by that?” Dražen took his hand off of Erik’s shoulder and stood up, folding his arms as he jokingly attempted to tower over her in an intimidating manner. It wasn’t very effective, however.
“Like,” she started, staring up at the ceiling as she thought about how to go about her response. Truth be told, Dražen was legitimately interested in her reasoning. “Okay, like, it’s not that I don’t like you,” she gestured to herself in emphasis, “but, like, probably everybody else kind of hates you because you’re sort of a jerk, and stuff. I mean, I don’t think you are. But that’s what everyone else says when they complain about you.”
Dražen’s eye twitched. “I’m well aware that I’m disliked, you know.”
“Okay, yeah, duh!” Erik rolled her eyes. It was stunning how much better she seemed to be doing compared to before. “But what I mean by that is, like, if they were gonna try to find me or whatever, no one’s gonna wanna barge into your room looking for me because they’re all scared of you. And they’re not gonna think that I went in here even if they saw that the room was empty-looking.”
Hm. Dražen took in the information, tossing it around in his mind. Weirdly, despite his prior floundering, he felt a little bit disappointed that she hadn’t come to his room specifically to seek him ou—
“I also thought you were gonna be in here.”
Huh? “Huh?”
Erik poked her phone again, checking the time. She started to pack up her half-eaten lunch as she spoke, “My mom eats her lunch in her classroom, so I thought you did too. So I thought you’d be in here.”
Dražen sputtered. “What?”
Tilting her head as confusion blossomed on her face, Erik gave the equal response of, “What?”
“You,” he started slowly, trying to make sense of the idea, “specifically chose to seek me out?”
“Yeah?”
“I,” Dražen started, trying to make himself sound as measured as possible, “see. I see. Of course.”
Erik narrowed her eyes, face turning into a suspiciously puzzled expression. “Yeah. Of course.” She grabbed her absurdly big water bottle, holding it close to herself as she took a sip from the straw. “You’re my favorite teacher.”
Dražen nearly choked on his own breath at that. His eyes widened, but he managed to force himself to nod. “Right. I certainly knew that.”
She took another sip of her water. “I’d go to my mom, but her classroom’s too far, so I’d be late to your class.” She set the water bottle back on her desk with a light thud.
Dražen hummed, dully processing her words as a thousand thoughts swarmed in his mind. In the past, he had definitely had students that tolerated his class to a much better level than others. He had not, however, ever, ever, ever been a student’s favorite teacher. The very thought sounded incomprehensible to him. It hadn’t crossed his mind even once.
“I always hear other kids talking about how much they like Mr. Mišić and how they think that you’re, like, super rude and annoying,” Erik continued, interrupting Dražen’s thoughts. “But I dunno. I think Mr. Mišić is kind of overrated. He’s annoying sometimes. But you’re not.” She looked up at him. “I think you’re cool.”
With every word she spoke, Dražen’s ego was further fueled. He smiled, genuine and steady. She found Mišić annoying. Ha! Annoying! And overrated! Ha ha! What was initially one of the worst and most awkward periods of his entire teaching career quickly became something positively incredible.
He knew that he couldn’t necessarily shove this newfound information in Mišić’s face, no matter how badly he wanted to. That didn't matter, though. The knowledge that he was a student’s actual favorite teacher was enough for him, but being seen as cool? Incredible.
(Hm. Maybe he was becoming a little old for reveling in such a meaningless statement. His pride was far too inflated to consider such an idea, however.)
He clapped a hand to Erik’s shoulder, giving her a little shake. “There’s a reason why you’re my favorite student, Miss Nordvik.” Oh, now he was just talking out of his ass. He’d never had a favorite student in his life!
Erik brightened considerably. “Really?”
“I would never lie about something like that,” he confirmed. Well, as ridiculous as it was, the statement was probably genuinely true now, wasn’t it? There was no way she wouldn’t become his favorite after that. Dražen’s eyes flickered to the clock above his door. He looked back down at Erik. “Now, I think you’d benefit from running to the bathroom to fix your face before the next period.”
Face falling immediately, Erik quickly picked up her phone, looking at her face from her camera. She gasped in horror, standing up as fast as she possibly could and rushed out of the classroom with a hurried expression of thanks.
Dražen waited for the door to shut before letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.
Realistically, he should do something about Erik’s bullying situation. It was horrible, and he was sure that it was worse than what she had described in her hysterical ramble. But he didn’t have the time today to act on it, and he wasn’t sure how Erik would want him to go about helping her. That was probably the correct way to go about it, right?
Right.
The bell rang to signify the end of the period. Dražen walked towards his desk, startling himself at the sight of his salad, barely touched. He turned around, looking at Erik’s pile of personal belongings.
He felt the pull on his cheeks as he subconsciously grinned.
Cool.