I should've known it was too good to be true. Buggy came to class today in a GOOD mood. And by good...I mean the boy was practically burpin' sunshine and happiness. (Along with "boogers" because his allergies are in overdrive, but that's another story. Teenage boys...yuck!)
He hung out in my room after class...and then left for home to get ready for the gymnastics banquet.
About 30 minutes later, one of the security guards (I'll call him Bugwatcher) comes to my door -- asks if he could talk to me. I go outside.
He tells me Buggy was just in a fight. Back behind the school. As Bugwatcher got there, he ran off.
Yep. In the 30 minutes since leaving my room...the little putz managed to find himself a fight.
I. Was. Pissed.
I told him, "I have half a mind to go pull Crazybrother out of class....and grill him."
He says, "He was with him."
My head spun. Green split-pea soup poured outta my ears.
I went to get my cell phone...and called Crazybrother. Funny thing, he didn't answer.
I sent him a text message: "I know full well you're not in class. Call me now."
20 seconds later.....*ring*
Me: Where are you.
CB: At home.
Me: Where's Buggy?
CB: In the shower.
Me: Get him.
CB: Miss, the door's locked.
Much knocking on a door and yelling ensues.
CB: Miss, he'll call you in 2 minutes.
Me: He better.
90 seconds later... *ring*
Me: Would you like to tell me what happened after school?
Buggy: I found CB so I could use his phone, and we came home so I can get ready for the banquet.
Me: How about you try that again...and this time include your "extracurricular" activities. Go.
Buggy: Okay, miss. I got in a fight.
Me: With who.
Buggy: Some guy.
Me: Why'd you fight him.
Buggy: Because he was talking about me.
Me: What's his name.
Buggy: I don't know.
Me: That's brilliant. You're going to risk everything because a guy you don't know is talking trash about you...why do you care what he thinks? or says?
Me: Seriously. What is the problem? You leave my room...and instantly find a fight? Can you not figure out how to walk away?
Buggy: Miss, I tried.
Me: Really. How.
Buggy: Miss, I've been trying to lay low, like you said. I really have. He started with me in front of the school...and I walked away. Me and CB walked around the school to go home. He came around in his car and was waiting for us behind the school.
Me: Why did you not come back in the building and tell the AP? Or me?
Buggy: I didn't think he'd follow me.
Yes, folks. Herein lies the problem. A teenage male relied on his powers of logic when making a decision. (Contradiction in terms right there!)
The conversation continued for a few minutes....discussing such topics as his upcoming court date this next Tuesday (for what, you ask?...why, that'd be for the fight in JANUARY. Yeah, let's hope that the fighting-in-public-ticket that is coming down the pike doesn't hit the judge's radar before Tuesday afternoon.) and the fact that his AP is done with him, and will probably ship his butt off.
Yes, I wholeheartedly believe he needs to be held accountable for what he did. (I may love him like he's my own...but that doesn't mean I wouldn't ground his butt til he needed Social Security.) My hope is that the judge will look at his academic record and his pattern of anger issues and give him a fine, a stiff sentence of community service, and, hopefully, mandatory DAILY anger management classes until he's EIGHTY.
I figure by then he should be so frail that even he has admitted he is not invincible.
I'm wondering if I should try to write a letter to the judge or something....any opinions?
Inside the school walls, he really is a good kid. He molds to the expectations set for him by his teachers. It's outside the walls, when he molds to the expectations set for him by his "friends", that we have problems.
Like I told him on the phone...this is exactly why I want so desperately for him to graduate and go to college far, far from here. (He seconded that, by the way.)
I'll post the update tomorrow. I've got more themes to grade....hasta.