Chapter Text
The bell rang, signalling the end of last period. As always, most of Walt’s students had gathered their things ten minutes ago, some even having had left by that time. The very instant the first shrill of the bell had sounded over the tannoy, half of his class had up and left. None of this was new, in fact it was all a daily occurrence. That didn’t mean it didn’t bother Walt, it only meant that he had no willpower to fight it anymore. He noted the few students still in his classroom, some chatting nonchalantly, the rest packing up to leave. The one at the back caught his eye. “Pinkman, stay behind please. The rest of you, out.” Walt had started shuffling through the papers on his desk, but he could almost certainly feel the eyeroll, accompanied by the very real sound of snickering from his friends, and the girl he had seemingly been trying to chat up.
Pinkman was a special case. The boy was small, child-like, dressed in clothes several sizes too big for him, like he was a child pretending to be a teenager. His hair was, more often than not, covered completely by a beanie, the kid’s hat of choice, no matter the temperature, no matter the weather. He always wore too many layers, Walt thought, in a way that made him look ridiculous, but he was very well aware of the stark contrast between what his and Jesse’s generations considered ‘fashionable’.
Walt knew there was a brain under that beanie. It was glaringly obvious, both at the beginning of the year, when Jesse had been averaging a B in his class, and now, when he was rarely able to score anything above an F. He knew the kid was an art prodigy; Walt had noticed it was the only class his grades hadn’t slipped in whilst he was updating his progress report.
“Yeah, Mr White?” The kid was standing in front of him now, annoyance heavy on his features.
“Take a seat, if you will.” Pinkman groaned, but slid his body into the nearest chair. Despite the clothing Pinkman wore, which ‘baggy’ could not even begin to describe, Walt could see his slight frame. He had always noted how garishly thin the kid was, the dark circles under his eyes, as if he was a person who had things to do other than sleep.
“What’s happened, Jesse?” Walt said simply. When he received no response, he continued, “You have eight missing assignments, and I’ve had to fail you on your last three quizzes. You were doing so well before. You won’t pass this class unless you get at least a C minus. And if we continue on this downward trajectory, you won’t be given anything higher than a D.” Pinkman scuffed his shoes on the ground.
“I dunno, man. I’m just dumb. I don’t get like, atoms, and shit. Cov-co… bonding, or whatever. I just don’t get it.”
Walt sighed. “Covalent bonding, Jesse. Watch your language.” He slid an old test paper in Jesse’s direction. “You got an A on this.” He lined the most recent test paper up next to it. “And an F on this. In the space of four months. You’re not dumb, anyone can see that. All I want to know is why.”
There was radio silence from Pinkman. He looked the picture of anxiety, toying with loose threads coming off of his zip-up hoodie. It read ‘Slipknot’ on the back. Walt knew that was a band kids these days listened to. He’d never heard their songs, as he was positive he’d find them abhorrent.
“Just yell at me, yo,” Jesse said, finally. “Don’t do all this compassion shit. Just yell at me and call me an idiot or a disappointment or whatever. It’s not like I’ve never heard it before. I just wanna go home, man.”
Walt felt odd, hearing that remark. It was like someone had punched him in the gut, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. Walt, of course, cared about his students. Every teacher did. He had never cared too much about any of them in particular, though. If they came to talk to him, he would do his best to help them out, but often, it was to do with things out of his control. It was ever so slightly different with Pinkman. He had always bottled it down to his hatred of seeing potential go to waste. But hearing those words come out of his student’s mouth brought about an inexplicable sinking feeling in his chest.
“Jesse,” he began, softly, trying not to scare the kid away, as he looked like he was about to dart out of his seat any second now, “If there’s something going on, at home, or with you, you can tell me. I won’t judge you.”
There was a flicker of understanding in his student’s eyes. His lips parted, and then shut, firmly, like he was never to speak again. “I can’t, Mr White. It’s not, fuckin’, anonymous or whatever. Like, you have to tell someone if I tell you. Don’t get yourself wrapped up in shit trying to help me. It’s fine.”
“Confidential. Not anonymous.”
“Yeah, confidential. It’s not like I even have it that bad or anything. It’s not worth it.” Jesse’s right leg was bouncing up and down rapidly. His head was bowed, but Walt could see his big, blue eyes eyeing the door, darting about the room. He seemed eager to leave.
“It’ll be confidential. I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone, Jesse. You have my word.”
Jesse sighed. “If I tell you, can I leave?” His voice was small, almost pleading. He was picking skin from his cuticles now. He looked up at Walt momentarily, searching him for any kind of answer. He nodded in approval, and Jesse shifted around in his seat for a second, trying to find the right words to say. “Your word is your bond, yeah?”
“My word is my bond, Jesse.” Walt replied. He thought it was an odd phrase to be coming out of a teenager’s lips, but teenagers are always full of surprises, he supposed.
“My folks kicked me out. A few months ago, or somethin’. Anyway, since then, I’ve been living with my aunt. But she just got really fucking sick. So I’ve been spending a lot of time taking care of her and shit. I don’t mind doin’ it, like she’s letting me live with her for free, and she’s got this big ass house, but I just don’t have time for shit like chemistry anymore. Or anything, really. That’s it.” Walt didn’t speak for a moment. “See, I don’t have it that bad. I bet there’s people who have it like, way worse.”
“Why did your parents kick you out?” Walt pried. He was entering dangerous territory, he knew that. Jesse looked on the brink of shutting down, and bolting out of the room.
“Dude, I already told you like, everything. They just don’t like me, ‘s’all.” His voice dwindled down to almost a whisper by the end of that. Walt could almost feel the hurt coming off of him. He wasn’t all that close with his parents, but he had never felt hated by them. “Can I go? I’m hungry as shit, Mr White.” The poor kid looked like he hadn’t eaten in days – Walt wasn’t surprised.
“Thank you for talking to me, Jesse. Would you be up for extra credit, perhaps? It would really help raise your grade.” It was a worth a try.
“Uh, I’ll think about it,” Jesse said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He hesitated in the doorway. “That stick you keep up your ass wasn’t that far up today.”
Walt supposed that that was probably the closest thing to a compliment he was going to get.
……….
Jesse didn’t come to school for two days after that. Fifth period on a Wednesday, Pinkman entered Walt’s class, twenty minutes late, dragged in by another teacher, dripping wet. “Sorry to bother you, Mr White, just caught this one trying to sneak out the back door.” He looked smaller than ever, his wet clothes sticking to his body like glue, in spite of their oversized nature. “No worries. Sit down, Pinkman. See me after.” Jesse audibly groaned, dragging his feet behind him as he walked, his Converse shoes squeaking after every step. “Thank you for this fashionably late entrance, Pinkman. Natalie, if you could bring him up to speed?”
Walt knew it was somewhat wrong, but he often wondered why all of his students couldn’t be like Natalie. She was attentive, studious, responsive. She aced all her tests. Some of it must’ve been natural smarts, but the rest was pure dedication. Walt saw himself in her. He hoped she’d be able to do something better with her life than he had.
“Pinkman.” Walt beckoned him over to his desk, as the stampede of students exited his class for sixth period. He was shaking ever so slightly, cold from the rain that he had chosen to stand in for the first twenty minutes of his class. “How have you been?” The boy reeked of tobacco, but Walt pretended not to notice.
“Fine,” was all he got in response.
“And your aunt?”
“She’s fine, man. Sorry I tried to skip your class or whatever. Just makes me feel stupid.”
The sinking feeling in Walt’s chest returned. “You aren’t stupid, Jesse. Not understanding things doesn’t make you stupid, it just means you have to work a little harder. You don’t have friends you could study with? Group study sessions seem to be all the rage today.”
“Cause you know what’s ‘all the rage’, Mr White. How old are you, sixty?”
Walt scoffed. “I have no desire to disclose my age to you, Jesse, but you’re shooting a little high. I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright.”
Jesse had been rocking forward and back on the balls of his feet for some time now. “I’m doing fine, Mr White. I’ve got like, something, now, so I should get going.”
“Of course. Any word on that extra credit?”
“I’m thinkin’ about it!” Jesse called out, already halfway down the hallway.
Walt sighed, sitting back down at his desk. He had at least seventy assignments still to grade, which he was not by any means looking forward to. He was sick of seeing sixties and seventies, people just passing by the skin of their teeth. It was better than failing, Pinkman’s specialty, but only marginally. He sipped lazily from his coffee mug. It was disgusting staff room coffee, if you could even call it that. It was no more than lukewarm water, flavoured ever so slightly with coffee beans. Walt could not recall a single time when a cup of staff room coffee had given him any more energy than he could get from a glass of water. They were out of coffee at home, right. And Junior needed cereal. Skyler needed lotion. He would have to stop by the store on the way home. It was still raining like hell outside, and Walt’s umbrella was in his car. Perfect.
There were about twenty assignments left ungraded as Walt exited the school building. The rain had subsided just a little, but it didn’t make him less angry about leaving his umbrella in his car. He was about to clamber in, already having thrown his bag onto the passenger seat, when he saw Pinkman, hanging around the building, earphones connected to some device in his pocket, cigarette dangling from his lips. Walt watched, enamoured, as he took it between his fingers, took a drag, and blew the smoke up toward the sky. He seemed unfazed by the rain. Walt watched until he was approached by two unfamiliar boys, around his age, one of whom gave him a fist bump, the other a hug, and the three walked off together, in the opposite direction to Walt’s home.