Adam Selzer by How to Get Suspended, Influence People

summer and weren’t in the advanced studies activity.
    Pretty soon the couch was full, but the people coming in got the idea that the couch was the place to be, so they just piled on top of those of us who were already there, until there were about ten or twelve people stacked up on the couch. Jenny’s butt was crammed into my arm, which wasn’t that bad, but between that and getting such a good view of Rachel’s bra in gym I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t have any luck left for Anna’s house.
    Mrs. Smollet finally came in, carrying what looked like an armload of crossword puzzles, and made a really disgusted face at us, like she was silently horrified that we weren’t acting more like kids from a sitcom set in 1956. She was one of those people who thought 1956 was America’s best year. Apparently, she didn’t know what awful food people used to cook back then.
    Right away, she ordered us all to get off the couch and I ended up back in a desk. Some relaxed atmosphere.
    “All right,” she said, “did everyone have a good summer?” According to scholars, no teacher has ever come up with a more interesting greeting for a first meeting with students after the break.
    We all sort of grumbled, and she began to call the roll.
    “Anna Simone Brandenburg?”
    “Physically here,” said Anna.
    “James Patrick Cole?”
    James belched; Mrs. Smollet rolled her eyes.
    “Dustin Michael Eddlebeck?”
    “He died in a car accident,” said Dustin.
    She was halfway to my name before I realized that she was using people’s middle names, like that would magically make us more intellectual. I started to panic.
    “Leon…,” she began.
    “Here!”
I shouted, hoping she wouldn’t finish. But she did.
    “Leon Noside Harris, here?” she repeated. About half the class turned and looked.
    “What kind of name is that?” asked Jenny. She wasn’t being mean; she sounded like she was genuinely curious.
    “It’s, uh, some ancestor of mine. Noside Magwitch Harris, Esquire. He was a real big shot.”
    “That’s fascinating, Leon,” said Mrs. Smollet, who certainly couldn’t just politely let it go. “Maybe for one of your projects this year you could research his life!”
    “Well, I’m pretty busy with projects right now,” I said, going for evasive action.
    Her eyes narrowed. “Yes,” she said. “You mean the advanced studies project?”
    “Yeah. I’m doing an art film.”
    “Well,” she said, “as I understand it, you’re doing a porno film.”
    “No,” I said, narrowing my own eyes. “It’s art. And it’s educational.”
    “Well, just so you know,” she said, “I wouldn’t push my luck if I were you. You know the limits.”
    “Sure,” I said. And we stared each other down for a minute or so. “But isn’t this program supposed to encourage our young minds to push the limits of what we can do? So we don’t end up as stupid as everybody else in this town?”
    “Just watch it, Leon,” she said. “The last thing the school needs is to spend all its money on a lawsuit. It needs that money for fixing up the gym.” And she went back to calling the roll.
    When she finished, she gave Anna a “come on, don’t give me this crap” look. “Miss Brandenburg,” she said, “please remove the devil horns.”
    “Nope,” said Anna, shaking her head. “It’s no different than wearing a cross necklace.”
    “But what it signifies is different,” said Mrs. Smollet.
    “Not to a Satanist,” said Anna.
    “We’re all Satanists,” said Brian, raising his hand and making it into the devil sign. Most of us stuck out our tongues and tried to look all evil for a minute or two. Dustin, who was, at that moment, actually wearing a cross necklace, looked especially evil.
    “You’re not Satanists,” said Mrs. Smollet, rolling her eyes.
    “I know I’m not,” said Edie. “Religion is the opiate of the masses.”
    Mrs. Smollet sighed and threw her hands up. “You guys, this is not the way to start out the