Victor and the Prank War

I thought my classroom was haunted.

I would come to work, and my chairs had been rearranged. Nothing drastic, but I always put them in order before leaving, and I always arrive the next morning with one section slightly scrambled. 

I confide with a class that I think I have a ghost. "Something's been moving my chairs!"

One particularly-trouble-producing boy, we'll call him Victor, starts chuckling. 

"It's YOU!" I deduce from his reaction, that he is the chair-shuffling culprit. He couldn't contain his giggles. 

"Maybe" ... laughing like he's the cleverest little prankster to ever exist.

"I'm going to get you back for this, you little punk" I said with a wink and a sparkle in my eye.  

He hates my class, as far as I can tell. He is a cool kid  on campus, and this class is not very cool. 

After that little encounter, where I catch him for his crimes, his relationship to the class doesn't really change. He certainly doesn't try to sing or anything crazy like that.

But he will hang back, try to be the last one to leave the room so he can have his moment with me to throw down: "I'm waiting, Mrs. Corkin" in a taunting tone that says, I  don't think you're really going to do anything.  

To which I reply, "It's coming... Just wait." He smiles and leaves. 

The second-to-last day of the semester, I enlist some help from the adults. Our school resource officer (aka policeman) pulls Victor out of class, walks him down to the front office, and makes him sweat, thinking he's in trouble. Then, the front desk secretary asks his name, nods disapprovingly, clicks her tongue, and hands him a note. 

He cautiously unfolds the paper. The note reads, "Dear Victor, Gotcha! :)  -Mrs. Corkin"

He tells the whole class about our little prank war--like it is the coolest game ever. This little skirmish against each other means we are actually on the same team.

It is so funny. Not in a HaHa kind of way but in a 13-year-olds-are-strange-and-unpredictable-creatures kind of way. I shouldn't be mad they're not what I expected. Sometimes, you need to meet them where they are. 

Long after he is no longer my student, he still waves at me. He'll throw up the "I'm watching you" signal, with a smile, before almost running into someone in the hallways.  Up until the very last day of school, a semester later, I see him sneak in and out of my room, and he waits until I catch him, so he can flash me his big grin.