“What?” 

 

It was the first thing to come out of Mr. Do’s mouth when he heard the principal’s announcement. The latter had convened a meeting with him in his office, saying that they needed to talk, but Mr. Do hadn’t been prepared for what the principal had just told him.

 

“Why me?” He went on when it was clear that he wouldn’t get an answer to his previous question.

 

“Because I trust you,” the principal said with a serious expression on his face, elbows resting on top of his desk and hands intertwined in front of his chin “I know you can handle them.”

 

 “Mr. Kim, with all due respect, those kids are out of control and I don’t think it would be a great idea to gather them-”

 

“I’ve already made up my mind, I was just informing you,” Mr Kim said, voice curt and Mr. Do knew that he shouldn’t take the risk to retort anymore. “Their parents are waiting, I’m sure you’ll know how to break the news to them,” the principal added with a small and cold smile.

 

Mr. Do wanted to scream.

 

He slightly bowed his head instead and said, “Of course, Mr Kim.”

 

_

 

Mr. Do halted his move as he was about to grab the doorknob.

 

He actually had no idea about how he was supposed to break the news to his newly assigned students' parents. Couldn’t have Mr. Kim done that on his own? He was the principal after all. But Mr. Do was his subordinate, and as a subordinate, he, along with his colleagues, sometimes (read: often) had to do the dirty work.

 

Like announcing to a bunch of parents that their daughters would be assigned to a ‘special class’ because they required ‘special guidance’. Mr. Kim probably thought that using the word ‘special’ would soften the news, but Mr. Do highly doubted it.

 

He ran a hand through his hair with a sigh and, resigned, he used that same hand to finally turn the doorknob.

 

A dozen pairs of eyes immediately met him as he opened the door further to slip through it. He was conscious of being scrutinized but tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling as he made his way to the front desk.

 

Parents were sitting down behind school desks, taking the place of their daughters for the time being. If Mr. Do hadn’t been so nervous, he might have had a little smile at the sight. There were some familiar faces, he had met some of them during parents-teacher meetings.

 

“Hello, everyone,” he said and he was surprised when his voice didn’t convey his edginess. Some parents greeted him too, some nodded to him. "Thank you for coming today,” he continued. “You must be wondering why you are here.” He marked a pause, unsure of what to say or how. “I’ve just been informed by the principal that as of today I will be in charge of a new 12th grade class and you’ve all been convoked because your daughters will be transferred to that class."

 

There was a moment of silence, parents blinking at him as if what he had just said didn’t make any sense.

 

To be honest, it didn’t.

 

“I don’t understand... Why would you create a new class in the middle of the school year, especially when our daughters are supposed to take the CSAT in a few months?” A woman started quietly. “Wouldn’t that confuse them?”

 

That’s a very good question, Mr. Do thought. Of course he couldn’t answer that. He had to reassure them. 

 

“Rather, ma’am, this class is created to make sure we’ll be able to fill in your daughters’ gaps,” he said with a polite smile.

 

"Are you implying that there's something wrong with my daughter?" A man asked, and Mr. Do noticed in his tone that he would better not mess up with his answer. Reluctantly, he decided to use the same word as his supervisor.

 

"No, of course not,” he answered, doing his best for his voice not to shake at his blatant lie. “We simply thought that they needed a special class to get special support."

 

The same man gave him a deadly glare. "You're using the word 'special' a whole lot, young man."

 

And that was when something shifted in Mr. Do's mind. He could be the nicest person but he also hated being disrespected like that. He might be younger than the father but it wasn't a reason to call him 'young man'. And once Mr. Do's was angry, there was no turning back. He decided to change his approach. No more being nice.

 

"I'm sorry but this is not negotiable,” he said, voice curt. “No matter how much you’d like to deny reality, your daughters are problematic and this is the solution our principal came up with to deal with them.”

 

Parents looked at him with both horror and offence written all over their faces.

 

“Of course,” Mr. Do went on, and this time the smile that he wore was challenging, “if you disagree you can always find another high school to accept your daughters with their brilliant student records."

 

"This is blackmail!" A man yelled.

 

Mr Do. raised an eyebrow at that, his famous blank stare back on his face."It is not. It's just that we can't let our other students be disturbed by your daughters." His tone was final.

 

People in the room exchanged looks but none objected anymore.

 

_

 

"Listen girls, from now on, you'll be assigned to a new class." Mr. Do announced after the parents were gone and their daughters had taken their place in the classroom.

 

"Why is that?" Someone asked, politely raising her hand. Mr. Do appreciated that and gave her a smile.

 

"Because we think that it will be better for you all," he answered.

 

Someone scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Why don't you just say that y'all can't handle us anymore?"

 

"This is no way to talk to a teacher young lady and that's exactly why you're here-"

 

"Don't talk to her like this if you don't want to be the victim of my next diss," someone said (more like, rapped).

 

"That line was incredible!" Someone said.with a cheerful voice.

 

"Girls-" Mr Do started.

 

"I've always loved rap music!" the voice continued. "Do you all know Dean? I love him!"

 

"Who's that?" Someone asked.

 

"The founder of Instagram," another voice answered.

 

"Instagram was founded by a rapper?" The cheerful voice asked. "That's so cool."

 

"Yeah," the previous voice replied. "Zuck can't relate."

 

"Girls, this is not the time to-" Mr. Do tried but was interrupted once again.

 

"Stop looking at her!" Someone said (more like, shouted).

 

"I can't help it, she's too cute," someone else said. "Can we be friends?" She asked, reaching her hand out.

 

"Uh, su-" A quiet voice started.

 

"No, you can't be friends with her, she's mine!" The person yelled, swatting the other girl's hand away.

 

"Mr. Do, why should I be in the same class with those?" Another girl asked, an eyebrow raised.

 

"In your case, you're here becau-"

 

"What? You think you're better than us, huh?"

 

"Actually, I do."

 

"Meanie," a girl said with a pout.

 

"Girls, calm down," someone else said with her hands extended out, trying to grab everyone's attention. "As someone said, 'Treat others the way you want to be treated.'"

 

"And as I say, shut up."

 

The girls then all started bickering.

 

And just like that, Mr. Do considered quitting.