The High School Bad Boy
Chapters 2. J'ai Besoin De Ce Boulot (I Need This Job)

COLLEGE JEAN - BABTISTE SAY (SMA JEAN - BABTISTE SAY), SURESNES, PARIS. 

The renaissance-style building stands majestically. Like other buildings in Paris, classically elegant, warm like spring, with a predominant light brown color that refreshes the eye. 

Wulan was still glued to look towards the main door that was wide open. Some students pass through to get into the school. 

This is his first day teaching at High School which was built in 1895. It is named after the French classical economist Jean-Baptiste Say. 

He took his breath in - deep. Justifying the slightly slanted scarf around her neck, she steadily stepped her foot inside the school building. Join the students who are starting to arrive. 

Towards the teacher room, Wulan had to pass through a long corridor in the main building, and out through a large courtyard that was overgrown with large trunked and densely leafy ash trees. However, winter made the trees lose their leaves. There are only bare branches covered in thin snow. 

The laughter of some male students playing with their soccer balls made Wulan turn her head to the origin of the sound. 

Bugghs.

Not having time to dodge, the ball flew towards him and hit his temple. Wulan complained while stroking her temple that felt sore. 

It was not the apology he received from the children, but the sound of their returning laughter. Irritatedly Wulan took the ball lying not far from him and walked closer to one, two . five children consisting of two blacks, one narrow-eyed and two more white. 

Wulan looked at the students' faces one by one with a sharp look. They asked them to apologize immediately.

"C'etait Max qui a bottle le ballon (Max who kicked the ball)." Stifling with laughter, one of the black teenagers spoke and pointed to a white figure called Max. 

Wulan turned her gaze to the half-shabby and messy black-haired teenager. 

"Quoi (what)?" He challenged Wulan's gaze arrogantly. 

Wulan hissing. He throws the ball in his hand hard at Max. Looking cynically at him at a glance, then passing by with a cocky feeling. 

A sound of laughter exploded behind him. He had no intention of responding to the bad boys. 

High School students in France are so, do not have courtesy to teachers. He recalled the news in the media about the conflict between teachers and students that has been rife in recent years. It is no longer about bullying between students, but students bullying teachers. 

***

Wulan stood staring at a door with a small board reading "La salle des Profs (teacher room) in front of her. He took a deep breath before his fingers moved open the door handle. 

"Bonjour (good morning)." He greeted the three teachers who were in the room, sitting at their desks.

"je suis Wulan (i Wulan). New English teacher."

"Ah d'accord (oh, so)." A white woman who seemed to be the same age as him, got up from her seat and walked over to Wulan while shaking her hand. 

"I'm Adrienne" said the woman. "Your table is over here." 

The woman named Adrienne pointed to an empty table beside her own desk. 

"Merci (thank you)." Wulan said as she pulled the chair under the table and put the textbooks she had been carrying since then onto the table. 

"Welcome to Jean Baptiste Say" chirped a middle-aged man from the opposite table. "I'm Paul."

"Cummer, Paul. Thanks." Wulan waved her hand at the man named Paul. 

"I hope you're at home here," chuckled a blond woman with a pretty fashionable make-up from the table next to Adrienne. "Ah, I'm Monique."

"Wrap (hallo), Monique." Wulan nodded at the woman named Monique. 

Wulan's heart started to warm. The tension he felt since setting foot in this school, began to fade. Fellow teachers who were in the same room with him were so friendly. Looks like it will make the day - the day will not be too boring. 

"What class are you teaching?" tanya Adrienne made Wulan gasp. 

"Class 12."

"Class 12 is very unruly. Like teaching gangster kids. You must have great patience." Adrienne warned. 

Wulan smiled wryly. His memory returned to some of the bengal students he had met just a moment ago. His head shrunk a little. But his resolve was unanimous. He needed this job to survive. Whatever he faced, he had to prepare. After all, all he would face were unstable children in their 17s. 

"Truely said Monique, may you be at home teaching here," Adrienne chuckled. 

Wulan. "Yes, I hope."

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