Nick's POV ------- School: More on Mr. Ocley

When the bell rang Lace got up. "Do you need a ride today?" He asked me. He slung his back pack over his shoulder and looked at me waiting. I finished my sentence before looking up. "No," I said. "It's cool, my mum'll drive me anyways."

He nodded. "I'll talk to you later," He said. "Is you mom working tonight?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'm ordering a pizza, do you want to come over? It's just going to be me and David." I don't just invite people over to my house hwne my parents aren't home. Because all of my friends generally have money, they barely come over. Not because I'm ashamed of anything. I mean, they come shopping with me sometimes just to buy clothes like me every once in a while. They think I dress like the shit- that's why. I mean, I am quite the fashionista- but Lace is the only one that probably knows where I live.

Now I guess that's because my neighborhood is fucking a hundred years old. Swear to God they probably think nobody even lives in my neighborhood because the houses are all older than they are. But that's not really why- at least I hope it's not why because I didn't think my friends were that dumb. Sometimes I guess I just like keeping things simple. I don't need them knowing all about David. They'd all be dicks to him if I brought them over. I don't need them walking around and looking at my house like it was a third world country they didn't know existed.

I like my house being my house.

I'm a simple guy, I guess.

"Sure," He said. "I'll come over once I drop Em off."

I smile at him. "You didn't tell me Emily the Poet was stealing you away," I said. Ocley comes over sitting at his desk and shuffles papers.

"What about Emily Dickenson?" He asks. I look over at Ocley. He has to be around thirty now. He cut his beard last night and it's short again. He looks at us waiting. I look at Lace and wait.

He rubs his eye. "No," He says. "It's just this friend of mine."

"A guy named Emily?" Ocley says. "I didn't know we had a new student. I would have remembered if it was a student named Emily." I laugh a little looking back at my paper. I start writing again.

"Emily is a girl," I said focusing. "Not just any girl- but normal public school girl who Lace has been texting the entire class while you gave the class a nice lecture on the corruption of money when introduced to a class system."

"That was a nice lecture wasn't it?" Ocley says looking at me. He puts a clip on the paper in his hands. He looks at Lace. "Now, I'm not saying this because I'm a lot older and wiser than you are, Simon, but it sounds like- now I'm going out on a limb here- but it sounds like you have a girlfriend."

"Nope," I said. "See, Lace doesn't like it when people call Emily his girlfriend. He likes to say they're just friends. Friends who talk on the phone and text and stay up really late talking and ditch their other friends for each other."

"Oh," Ocley says sliding over ot his computer glancing at the screen. "I see."

"Ocley," Lace says. "I can report you right now for busting in questioning my personal life, so can we drop this?"

"No," I said. "He just asked about Emily Dickenson, I'm telling him all about your girlfriend. Come on, dude, this is completely different." I look up at Lace.

He takes out his phone. "I have to go," He says. "I'll see you later."

"See you," I say laughing a little.

"Bye Ocley," Lace says waving.

Ocley looks up from his computer. "Wait, listen to this:" He says. I turn. Ocley only reads e-mails not if they are really good. I wait and Ocley looks at the computer before starting to read. "'Dear Robert Ocley, It has come to my attention that you have been addressing such subjects in your third period English class as Buddhism, sexual encounters and addressing your students in inappropriate ways.'-" He looks at us. "What is wrong with that?"

"Inconsistent parallel construction," I said. "Duh."

Lace laughs. "Wait, the sexual encounters thing," He says. "Was that when you talked to us about what was going on in the novel?"

"No, wait," Ocley says. "It gets better. 'A student reported that you allegedly wrote expletives on the student Conor Simon's essay and attacked him verbally in front of the class.'"

Lace and I burst out laughing. "No way," Lace went over reading over Ocley's shoulder. "It was a joke!"

Lace wrote a paper that was great except for one paragraph. Ocley- as a joke- wrote simply 'P2 sucks' and explained to us what Lace did wrong in class. I thought it was hilarious. I thought about the low son of a bitch who was working to get Ocley fired.

"This is getting annoying," Ocley sighed. "I'm teaching. Is it that horrible?"

I kept writing. "I hate this school," I said. "Scott always talks about how much he hates it here."

Ocley looks at me. "You know a school is terrible when someone's parent- whose never been to it- says it's terrible." He says. He looks back at the e-mail. "I can't wait until I quit. I'm looking for a job at a high school in Philly or Conneticut."

"Go out with a bang," I said. "Get up in front of the school and call Barcphoph's B-S."

"Like I'd stop there," Ocley says under his breath. He shakes his head and Lace starts to walk away.

"I have to get going," He says. "Ocley, I'll have my paper in tomorrow morning. Do you have a free period?"

"Seven," Ocley says. "What do you have?"

"Study," Lace says. "I'll come here then?"

"Yeah, that's fine." Ocley says. "Who do you have for Study?"

"Mrs. Harney," Lace said.

"Alright," He said. "I'll call her tomorrow morning and tell her you'll be here. See you tomorrow,"

"Bye," Lace said he left and I kept writing finishing my essay.

I passed it over to Ocley. "Did you see Hampton reading Bukowksi?" I asked.

"Yeah," Ocley said. "What's up with that?"

"Thinks he's smart," I said. "Any horny guy can read Bukowski in public." We've established that it's only justified if you read Bukowki poetry in public, not 'Ham on Rye.' Especially if you're in high school. But I guess that's how it goes sometimes. People read good authors at the worst possible times.

"Did I tell you?" Ocley said fishing out a red pen. "They're not giving me any Senior classes next year." We make eye contact and my stomach drops.

"What?"

"They're making me teach sophomores," Ocley said. "He knows."

"What the hell?" I said. "Pardon my French."

"It's excused, I teach English." Ocley says. We say this as a joke. Don't think Ocley's a moron or something. He's the smartest person I know. "They have people walk by my classrooms. Kids have been telling me they see him walking by. How ridiculous is all of this?"

I shake my head. "This school is ridiculous," I said. "I'll have Judy tell me if she hears anything about it if it's getting to that. That sucks."

Ocley looks at my paper. He is reading and I watch him. I look out the window and see the woods. I wait for him to say something. "Great thesis," He says. I look back at him. I wait and see him add a comma here and there.

"Are you going to quit this year then?" I asked. Ocley looks up at me and for a second he pauses.

He pauses. "I might," He said. "I can ask to teach a senior course but I'll have to work really hard for it."

I look at him. "Try," I said.

He pauses. "You aren't sick of me yet?"

"No," I said reaching over picking up his folder for our class. "You're the only teach who knows what they're talking about."

"Thank you,"

I didn't say anything. I opened the folder and looked at it. I don't really know why people always thank me when I'm honest with them. It's the truth. The truth will always be the truth. I'm not being nice to make them feel better. Ocley goes back to reading my paper.

Next class we're reviewing "Catcher in the Rye."

"A little JD Salinger? Bold move," I said. "I'll have to slaughter Lace tomorrow I guess."

"Don't be too harsh," Ocley says turning a page. "You don't want to end up wearing a hunting cap."

I smile. "If you quit the day after tomorrow expect a phone call at midnight asking you to let me come sleep in your house," I said.

He laughs. "Tocuhe," He says. He starts reading again.

I don't want my teachers to all be like Ocley. I think if they were like that I'd take him for granted. He's really a cool guy. I start reading into next week's plan. I hope he doesn'ty quit soon. I want to do the stuff coming up in his planner.