Oscar is the one who killed Spencer. I’m sure of it.
Poor Oscar. He loaaathed me. I don’t think he walked into the classroom hating me. It was something that developed over time, though I can’t recall any precipitating incident. But after a few months, I knew Oscar’s goal in life was to teach me a lesson.
He actually submitted this as his response when I asked the kids to write their goals, except instead of “you” he wrote something like, “teachers who don’t know what they’re talking about,” his normally childish scrawl even more jerky on this assignment. I assume he was shaking with rage as he wrote it.
In class, Oscar was forever trying to catch me in a mistake, trip me up, or ask me something he hoped I didn’t know the answer to. During a parent-teacher conference, his mother said that he spent hours at night reading Wikipedia pages. She was trying to illustrate his inquisitiveness and bright mind, but after that point, each time he raised his hand, I imagined him furiously clicking away the night before, searching for some arcane fact that would secure my downfall. Read more