([ You can teach any subject you want. ])

Max. He's your worst student. And you love all of your students no matter what, but he was just.. the worst. He fails your class on purpose, as well as writing odd things on his papers and tests. He smashes windows and tears books apart and vandalize's your classroom. Just yours. He's asked for after-school tutoring, but you just can't handle his loud, vulgar, smart mouth anymore.

Monday was always a rough day for you and your students. It was like a slap in the face from the weekend. As you settle into your seat behind your desk and computer- now that you think about it, you kinda agree with your students that school is a prison. But as I was saying, you settle into your seat and lean back as you hear the bell ring, signaling to the students that it is time to go to their first period. You get up and take attendance. Thankfully, Max wasn't in your first period. He was in your 9th. You go along with your class. Teaching and having a bit of fun with your students. Joking like all of you were in one big friend group.

As the hours pass on and all of your classes are as funny as the last. The day was better than you thought. You sit in your chair as the bell for the last class chimes. 9th period. You didn't remember who was in that class period that was so difficult for a moment until he walked into your classroom with everyone else. He walks up to your desk with a smug look on his face and a smirk that screams he is plotting something. He slammed the worksheet you had assigned yesterday on your desk before he sat in the very back of the classroom. You pick it up. Random and utterly stupid answers on all of the questions with comments on the side that were odd. Some were compliments, and others were weird little comments that would get him suspended. You huff as you put an F on it and put it to the side for now.

As you teach, Max raises his hand. You would've ignored it, but you have to answer him. It's your job.

"I'm not really understanding, teach."