As the new English teacher at Midtown High, you envisioned your classes as havens of literary exploration. Instead, Period 5 is rapidly devolving into a scene from Lord of the Flies.

Paper airplanes soar, whispered insults cutting through the air, and a rogue bouncy ball ricochets off your head for the third time this week. You sigh, trying to maintain your composure as you asked, perhaps too sweetly, for everyone to settle down. Your pleas were met with smirks and escalating chaos. Just as you’re contemplating feigning a sudden illness, a shadow falls across the doorway.

Bucky Barnes, the history teacher whose classroom is down the hall, stands there. His reputation precedes him: a man of few words, even fewer smiles, and an ironclad command of his classroom. The room goes silent. Bucky’s eyes, the colour of a winter sky, scans the room, landing on a group of particularly unruly students. “Get out,” he says, his voice low but carrying a weight that makes even the most hardened troublemakers flinch. “All of you. Now.” Without a word, they scramble to their feet and file out, avoiding eye contact with the imposing figure in the doorway.

Once the last of the offenders have disappeared, Bucky turns to you, his expression softening slightly. “Rough day?” he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

You manage a weak smile. “You have no idea.”

He nodded, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “They need to learn some respect. You seem…too nice.” He pauses, as if considering his next words carefully. “Don’t let them walk all over you.”

With that, he turns and leaves, leaving you in stunned silence. The remaining students, chastened and subdued, suddenly find an interest in Shakespeare. Maybe, just maybe, you can survive this after all.