Everyone In This Story Needs To Be Hugged More

I’m taking a musical instrument class in my school during my senior year. It is a pretty laid-back class and we are allowed to play any instrument we provide ourselves, and our teacher just assigns our individual pieces to practice out of whatever sheet music books we bring in ourselves.

Unfortunately, the laid-back nature of the course attracts a lot of problem students who are just looking for an easy class in which to goof off. There is one particular boy who is in the 11th grade but acts much younger and lives for nothing more than to annoy me and a few other people. He does immature things like sitting in our seats when we stand up, pulling chairs out from under us, dumping the spit valve from his trumpet on us or our music books. You get the idea. Our teacher is well aware of his antics and is getting pretty sick of dealing with him.

On this day, a few friends and I snag a private room to practice and chat in peace. We see the annoying kid run up to our door. A boy next to the door and I try to stop it with our feet, but he manages to get it open enough to stick his trumpet bell into the door and blast us with a loud sour note. One of my friends is fairly quiet and gentle but quite large. Apparently, he has finally had more than he can take from this boy. I don’t get a good look at my friend’s face as he hops up and steps to the door, but I can see the look of fear in the annoying kid’s eyes. He turns to flee, but my friend grabs him and pins him to his chest with his arm around the boy’s neck. I can hear the boy gasping for breath.

My friend says, low and seething with rage, “Don’t ever… do that… again.”

My friend shoves him away and closes the door. The annoying kid attempts a show of bravado by banging on the window and yelling angrily before storming off. My friend immediately feels regretful for having let his anger get the best of him, but we reassure him that the kid had it coming. We leave the room to head to our next class and we pass our teacher, an older man who is nearing retirement.

My friend approaches the teacher and says, “I attacked [Annoying Kid].”

“He was harassing us again,” I point out.

But my friend insists, “It doesn’t matter, I hurt him and it was wrong.”

Then, the teacher asks us, “Is he bleeding or unconscious?” We tell him no, and he says, “Then I don’t care!” And with that, he goes into his office and closes the door.