dAWriterStrike

The year was 1993, in an American town called Darby. Sixteen-year-old Julien Dufaux had just immigrated from France with his parents. To say he was nervous about being at a new school, and in a new country at that, was an understatement. The assistant principal of Darby High School, Mrs. Shaffner was showing the new student his locker. Mrs. Shaffner was a grump, to put it lightly. Julien’s locker was in a basically abandoned room, which hadn’t been cleaned in a while. She told the new boy “We haven’t used this this room in years. I don’t know where all the new kids keep coming from. Anyway, here’s locker 22.” He said, “This place is dirty, and it’s a long walk from my classes.” The graying, middle-aged woman took off her glasses and squinted at Julien. “Are you complaining, Mr. Dufaux?” The boy protested “No, just-“ Before he could finish, Mrs. Shaffner stated “Good! Then get ready for your first class of the day, and I hope you enjoy Darby High School,”