Free Misconduct by Penelope Douglas

their trick of using a bigger font, “and have that to me by Friday. Any questions?”
    Mumbles in the negative sounded from around the room, and I nodded. “Okay, grab your responders. Pop quiz.”
    “I have a question.” I heard someone speak up. “When are we going to use the textbooks?”
    I looked up, seeing Christian’s eyes on me as the other students switched on their remotelike devices, which I used to record their multiple-choice answers instead of paper and pencil.
    I stood up straight, inquiring, “Would you prefer to use the textbooks?”
    But Marcus blurted out a response instead. “No,” he answered, turning his head to Christian. “Dude, shut up.”
    Christian cocked an eyebrow, keeping cool as he ignored his classmate. “The textbooks are provided by the school. They have the curriculum we’re supposed to learn, right?” he asked almost as an accusation.
    “Yes,” I confirmed.
    “So why aren’t we using them?” he pressed.
    I inhaled a long, slow breath, careful to keep my expression even.
    Kids will challenge us, test boundaries, and throw us curveballs, I was told. Keep your cool, treat every kid like they’re your own, and never let them see you falter. Christian certainly challenged me on all those levels.
    Not only was he not performing up to his potential in class, but he also challenged me on occasion. Whether it be tardiness, flippant behavior, or distracting other students, he seemed to have a penchant for disobedience.
    And as much as he tried to hinder me from doing my job, the person I was outside of the classroom couldn’t help but admire him a little.
    I knew from experience that misbehavior came from a need for control when you lacked it in other venues. And while I sympathized with him – and whatever he wasn’t getting at home or elsewhere – he clearly thought he could get away with it here.
    “That’s a good question,” I told him, walking around my desk. “Why do you think we don’t use the textbooks?”
    He laughed to himself and then pinned me with a look. “What I think is that you give me more questions when I just want answers.”
    I stiffened, my smile falling as students in the room either tried to cover their laughs with their hands or stared between Christian and me wide-eyed and waiting for whatever would happen next.
    Christian had a self-satisfied look on his face, and my blood heated with the challenge.
    I swallowed and spoke calmly. “Everyone open up to page fifty-six.”
    “Ugh.” Marcus groaned. “Nice job,” he shot over his shoulder, not looking at Christian.
    Everyone dug their books out of the compartments under their desks, and the sounds of pages flipping and students grumbling filled the classroom.
    I picked up my teacher’s manual and cleared my throat.
    “Okay, this chapter covers the contributions of Patrick Henry, Benjamin Franklin, and Betsy Ross,” I went on. “I’d like you to read —”
    “But we already learned about them!” Jordan Burrows, the girl sitting next to Christian, called out.
    I pinched my eyebrows together, cocking my head and feigning ignorance. “Did we?”
    Another student jumped in. “We did the book study in groups two weeks ago and the virtual museums,” he reminded me.
    “Oh.” I played along. “Okay, pardon me,” I said, moving on. “Turn to page sixty-eight. This chapter covers the presidencies of George Washington through Thomas Jefferson —”
    “We already learned that, too.” Kat Robichaux laughed from my right. “You uploaded our campaign posters to Pinterest.”
    I looked up at Christian, who hopefully was getting the idea.
    We had been learning everything in the textbook, even though we hadn’t learned it from there. Students absorbed more when they sought knowledge themselves and put it to practice by creating a product instead of merely reading from a single text.
    “Ah,” I replied. “I remember now.”
    Christian shifted in his seat, knowing full well the point had