Chapter 6
Despite the Odds

Up ahead, the words ‘DESPITE THE ODDS’ are painted in big, blue letters on the wall. Some other words are painted around it. Success. Hurdle. Overcome. Pride. Achieve.

“The DTO program is in this wing of the school,” Mrs. Tang says. “DTO stands for ‘despite the odds.’ It’s for students who have had some challenges in their lives. Many of them need a more flexible program in order to finish high school. We want them to be successful despite whatever challenges they’re facing.”

As we step through the doors, the school cop is leaving. He started coming to our school at the start of the semester — just before Rob kicked me out.

“Constable Haddad,” Mrs. Tang begins, “this is a new student —”

I don’t wait for her to finish. I lower my head and walk faster. From what I’ve learned, cops are never in the right place at the right time. Like, where was a cop when the guy was kicking the crap out of me under the bridge?

When I get to the end of the hall, I pause to let Mrs. Tang catch up. We step inside the classroom together. Sure enough, everyone is working at their own computer wearing their own headset. The group includes a pregnant-looking goth girl, a guy with a full-sleeve tattoo, a frail-looking girl with eyes darting everywhere, and a few others. Some of them glance up at me, but that’s all. Nobody is talking and no awkward sharing sessions are going on. So far, so good.

“Finn,” Mrs. Tang says, “I have someone here for you to meet.”

A stocky man wearing jeans and a plaid shirt stands up from behind a desk. I take in his shaved head, his reddish-grey beard, and the small, gold hoop in one ear.

“This is Zaine,” Mrs. Tang says. “It looks like he’s going to be your new student.”

“Welcome to the DTO classroom, Zaine,” Mr. Finnegan says. “This is where we turn student hardships into success stories. Despite what’s been going on in their personal lives.”

Okay, so that just sounded totally lame.

Mrs. Tang checks the time. “Zaine, I’m going to leave you here with Mr. Finnegan. I need to return to my office to make a call. Any time you want to chat, my door is always open.”

“Sure thing,” Mr. Finnegan says. “I’m happy to take over.” Then he turns to me. “First of all, we keep things pretty casual here. You can call me ‘Mr. Finnegan’ if you like. But I’m not exactly a teacher. I’m more like a coach. Most of the students just call me Finn. It’s your call though.”

I nod my head. It’d be easier if he just told me what he wanted me to call him.

He points toward the two rows of computers. “These are the students’ work stations.” Then he walks me over to a carpeted area beneath the windows. “And this is where we have our group talks every morning.”

I assume he means the counselling sessions. Maybe the comfy-looking couches and cozy chairs are supposed to put students at ease so they’ll open up about their problems. That won’t be happening for me. I walk across the grey rug without saying a word.

As Finn leads me over to an empty computer, I realize I’ve been holding my breath. Aside from the twins with their millions of questions, I’m not really used to talking to anyone. I need to hurry things along.

“Mrs. Tang said I could start with just one or two subjects,” I say. “I’m thinking Grade Eleven Biology and maybe Business. Bio was going okay until —”

I catch myself. I can’t have Finn thinking that I’m the sharing type.

“— until I missed some school,” I finish.

Finn nods and turns on a computer at the end of the first row. “This can be your work space, okay?”

I look around me. There’s an empty computer between me and the pregnant goth girl. This is probably as good as it’s going to get.

“Sure.”

Finn uses a swipe card to log me in. Then he opens the online Bio program. “Let’s start with this. The first unit is ‘Energy and Matter Exchange in the Biosphere.’”

I scan down the screen. “I remember some of the stuff about food chains and food webs,” I say.

“Well, you were only here for the start of the term,” Finn says. “You might want to just redo it. There’s a quiz at the end of each lesson. If you get seventy-five per cent or more, you can move on to the next lesson. Then there’s a bigger test at the end of each unit.”

My mind is stuck on the part about needing to get seventy-five per cent. I’ve never got that in my life. This will take me forever!

Finn leaves and I start reading the first lesson about photosynthesis. I’m partway through when the door bangs open. A guy in a wheelchair with a massive scowl pushes his way into the room. A backpack and a coat are laid across his lap.

“I already told you — I don’t want your help!” he yells behind him. The door bangs shut a moment later.

I glance at the others. Goth Girl is totally ignoring him. Same with Tattoo Artist. Other than Shy Girl, who shrinks lower into her chair, nobody looks surprised. Maybe this happens all the time.

The guy in the wheelchair rolls up to a computer that’s sitting on a lower desk. He slides his chair beneath it. He runs his hands through his messy brown hair, then he pulls on his glasses.

“Hey, Lucas,” Finn calls over. “I can come help you out in a minute.”

The whole time, Lucas is swearing and muttering to himself.

I’m closer to him than I want to be. His temper along with my temper might not be a great combination. And even with the headset on, it would be a lot easier to read if Lucas wasn’t complaining to Finn about his wheelchair. Sure, it looks like the guy has it rough, but who doesn’t?

“Don’t beat yourself up.” Finn is kneeling beside him. “You’ll be out of the wheelchair soon. You need to be more patient with yourself.”

“Easy for you to say!” Then Lucas notices me looking his way. “What are you looking at?”

“Not much.” I glare back at him. “Just some whiner who needs to shut the hell up.”

Goth Girl chuckles beside me. Maybe I’m not the only one who who’s sick of him.

Lucas’s face is bright red as he reaches across his desk for his glasses case. He whips it at me. I catch it in an awkward grab just before it smacks me in the face.

Before I know it, I’m on my feet. My chair clatters against the grey tile floor. Finn jumps to his feet as well. He’s faster than I thought and he’s pushing me back. I get the feeling he’s done this before.

“Go sit down, Zaine.” His teeth are clenched. “That’s not how things work in this classroom.”

I slam Lucas’s glasses case onto the floor. Even though it’s empty, it still feels good to have thrown something. I stomp back to my desk.

Finn goes back to talking with Lucas. “Your leg is still healing,” he says. “So you might as well polish off a few more math lessons at the same time. No one will thank you if you don’t, right?”

That sounds like a load of crap to me. I’m surprised that Lucas actually shuts up and starts doing his work. Before long, Constable Haddad steps back into the room. He seems to be a regular. I guess he’s supposed to be the big-brother type who’s here to keep everyone on their best behaviour.

Good luck with that, Constable Haddad.

I glance at the carpeted area. One thing for sure is that I won’t be sharing anything over there. Or anywhere else, for that matter. Thank god I’ve missed today’s group session. That gives me until tomorrow to figure out a way to get out of it.