Isaac was just inside the door, standing in front of an irate-looking Max Lyndell. His longish, straggly hair almost covered his very dark eyes on one side of his face. Sam let out a sigh. Max was the bane of everyone’s life right now. And the paranoia that the inspectors would walk into a lesson in the middle of one of his outbursts was at its peak. Max was almost as tall as Isaac, who was almost twice his age, but where Isaac had a youthful look, Max was the opposite – he looked older than he was – and had Sam not known how old they were, he might have thought them the same age.
‘Good morning, Mr Emery,’ Sam said, and Isaac turned around. His well-defined cheekbones were set in a sharp grimace.
‘Morning.’ He glanced back at Max and then turned to Sam and muttered. ‘He’s out of control. He’s throwing stuff and swearing. The other kids are scared. Nothing I say is helping. He just won’t stop.’
‘I can fucking hear you,’ Max said.
‘Let’s take this outside.’ Sam put his arm out to indicate the door.
‘Why should I? You can’t make me.’
‘True. But the alternative is that the rest of the class move into my room, and I stay in here with you. Either way, we’re going to have a chat. You’ve got ten seconds to decide.’
Max gave him a death stare and clenched his fists. The rest of the class sat pressed back in their seats, either whispering or looking on wide-eyed.
‘Have you decided?’
Max’s eyes blazed, and he didn’t say anything. Instead, he kicked a chair, sending it skittering across the floor, and stormed out of the room.
Isaac shook his head.
‘I’ll speak to him,’ Sam said. ‘You carry on with your class.’
He half expected to reach the corridor and find Max gone, but he was still there, repeatedly bashing his toe off the wall.
‘Come into my room.’ Sam headed back down the corridor.
‘Why should I?’
‘Because it’s the first step.’
‘The first step to what?’ Max glowered at him.
‘Come in here and I’ll explain.’ Sam led the way into his class and pulled out a seat for Max. Without looking at him, Sam pulled out a second seat and placed it beside the other one. He sat down and leaned his wrists on his knees. Max threw himself onto the seat like he’d been asked to do the most inconvenient thing in the world.
Sam looked at him for a moment, frowning.
‘What are you staring at?’ Max shrugged.
‘Just thinking. The path you’re on just now is one that’s filled with obstacles, triggers, and… well, it’s hard work.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m trying to understand your choices. I don’t know if you’re aware that behaviour is a type of communication. What is it you want to communicate to us? That’s what I’m wondering. And while I understand that talking about problems isn’t always easy, sometimes even identifying them is difficult, I can’t help but think that it would be a lot simpler if you could tell us some reasons you’re feeling this way.’
‘What way?’
‘The way that makes you want to kick walls and shout at teachers.’
‘Because teachers suck.’
Sam smiled. ‘I’m sure that’s been said by many people of your age over the years, probably some of your classmates, but they don’t share that opinion by damaging property or name calling. If they want to express that opinion, they probably do it quietly among themselves.’ He caught Max’s eye. ‘And part of that is choice. It’s about choosing how to express yourself in a way that’s appropriate.’
‘Whatever.’
‘Your grades tell me you have potential.’
‘My grades are shit.’
