The boys’ locker room is a miniature maze of tile and metal where sound is never lost, but also never found. Although I can’t pinpoint their exact location, the teenagers’ conversation is easy enough to pick out in the emptiness. “I was sure I saw them go this way.” Barrett says.

“I swear if this is another one of your tricks,” Miss Lynx says, annoyance prickling her voice.

“It’s not!” he defends. “I’m just trying to be a good friend here and this is the thanks I get?”

“We aren’t friends, and this doesn’t change anything. If you’re not lying to me, it’s basic decency.”

“Lying? Me? He’s the one who’s been hiding the fact that he’s being bullied from you. Those dogs have been bothering that normie for weeks.”

Normie? What’s that slang for? I nearly yelp, blowing my cover, when Mr. Wright sneaks up beside me and wraps a hand around my mouth. He shushes me with an index over his lips, and I roll my eyes, wiggling out of his hold. I wouldn’t have been so startled if he hadn’t touched me so intimately.

“So what’s your deal with him anyways? You guys fucking or something?”

“Adan is gay,” Miss Lynx says flatly, her voice fluctuating only as she walks through the rows of lockers. Mr. Rivera is being bullied? And during homecoming at that? The impudence of some people, even if they are teenagers, irks me.

“Then would you hang out with me if I fucked him?”

“Pfft, he’s way out of your league.” You tell him, girl. “Maybe they took him into the hall?”

Nodding towards the opposite wall, I send a silent signal to Mr. Wright to go check the hall. He’ll get there before them judging by the sound of their voice circling back towards us, and although I might not fully understand the teens’ conversation, I gather Mr. Rivera is in some sort of danger, physically or emotionally. He hesitates for a moment, gesturing with his eyes towards locker maze obscuring our view of the teens. I place my hand over my heart, assuring him that I’ll intercept them. He salutes with a mouthed ‘roger, roger’, gliding like an eel across the tile floor and slipping out of the locker room.

“You know, I could be very useful, keeping an eye on him for you,” Barrett says.

“No thanks, I can protect my friends just fine on my own.” Protect seems a bit strong of a word for a sixteen-year-old girl. I’d rather her do the sensible thing and ask a teacher for help if Mr. Rivera is being bullied.

“Sure, sure, but I could get them to lay off the normie for good.” There’s that word again. “I’ve been meaning to teach that Maylin a lesson for a while now.” Maylin: I search through my mental database of students, but the name doesn’t ring any bells.

“No violence. Al would kill you.” That nickname I recognize as how she addresses her cousin.

“He wouldn’t. Most he would do is glare at me, but since he already does that whether I do anything or not, why not leave his ire to me? Come on, Sirena, just some harmless pranks to send a message.” In my experience, no such message has ever been delivered harmlessly. Time to save my student from this troublemaker’s peer pressure. “When did you become such a boring-ass—” He cuts off sharply when I drop the door to the hallway, allowing the slam to echo through the locker room.

“Locker room is off limits,” I say loudly, walking with deliberate heel clicks towards the pair. “Oh, Miss Lynx,” I feign surprise when I round the corner to find the pair frozen in juvenile embarrassment. “What are you doing in the men’s locker room with…? I’m sorry, I don’t know your name, young man.”

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Huang,” she immediately surges forward, obstructing my view of the tattooed blonde. “We’ll leave immediately.” She turns towards the hallway exit rather than the gym exit.

I tap her shoulder, bemused by her attempt at pulling a fast one on me. “Exit’s that way.”

She flushes bright red, struggling to come up with an excuse. I wait, expectantly tilting my head to the side and trying to keep my body language open and nonthreatening. She cracks after only a moment of careful eyebrow raising with the corners downturned to appear sympathetic. “Actually, I thought I saw Adan go this way,” she confesses. “I was just looking for him, and then we’ll go right back to the dance, I promise.”

“I understand. How about this? I find him and you go back to the dance now?”

She glances nervously at Barrett, clearly stressed, to which he responds with an “oh well” sort of shrug.

“Unless there is something else wrong?”

She shakes her head too quickly to that question.

“Are you sure? I won’t be upset if you tell me the truth.” 

She bites her lip, unable to meet my gaze now.

“I might be able to help,” I push to no avail. I sigh, disappointed when she refuses to answer. “Well, what about you, sir? Anything to add?”

“No, ma’am. Come on Sirena. Let’s get out of here.” He grabs her arm, tugging her towards the correct doorway.

“Wait, I didn’t catch your name,” I step between them and the exit slightly.

“Uh, Barrett?” he says nervously. “Am I in trouble?” He looks surprisingly distressed about the prospect, and I can almost see his thoughts playing out like a movie behind his bright green eyes. He’s thinking how he didn’t even do anything wrong this time, and was only trying to be a friend, but still got in trouble, and how unfair is life.

I suppress a smirk with a sweet smile. “No, no, I’m just nosy when it comes to my favorite students and their friends,” I go for the truth, because why not? “Last name?”

He cranks an eyebrow at me, the same side of his mouth falling slightly ajar, likely he’s just encountered a genuine aberration. I only grin wider, shrugging at Miss Lynx who is finally smiling too, tension melting in her expression. “It’s Delvaux,” she tells me. “And just so you know, Teach, you reap what you sow,” she teases, mimicking my love of idioms, “because I totally saw you vibing with that snack on the dance floor.”

“With Mr. Wright?” Why is everyone misunderstanding our relationship lately? My phone vibrates silently in my pocket. “Speak of the devil,” I murmur. “He’s found Mr. Rivera.”  Not caring if they realize I overheard their earlier conversation, I hush their confused questions and shoo them out the door. “Let the teachers take care of this, alright? Just enjoying homecoming.”

I breathe out when I’m alone again, allowing myself a moment to process before catching up with Mr. Wright. There’s something unusual about this whole situation, and not just because Miss Lynx refused to confess her worries about Mr. Rivera. Bullying is a difficult problem for teachers to manage, one which sadly usually doesn’t go away even with immediate consequences and punishments. I trust Mr. Wright is intervening appropriately, but root cause analysis will need to be conducted to stop the problem at its source. Why is Mr. Rivera being bullied? The simplest possibility is homophobia, but the way Mr. Delvaux called the bullies ‘dogs’ suggests there might be a personal rivalry. He suggested exacting retribution on behalf of Mr. Rivera, but clearly only to be in Ms. Lynx’s good graces, not out of fondness for Mr. Rivera. Therefore his not-so-subtle disdain for this ‘Maylin’ must stem from something more than the current situation. Could Mr. Rivera be caught in the crosshairs of a wider bullying cycle?