Now that I think about it, 90% of the interesting stories I know from school involve someone getting expelled at the end.
I've got a story that happened 12-13 years ago to a class from my high school, though not in the school itself.
>class is returning from an excursion
>it's the middle of the night, everyone in the bus is tired and probably bored
>guy decides to cheer up class
>starts singing out loud
>gets up and I guess thinks it'd be fun to stick his head out of the window thing on the roof of the bus and sing to the entire highway
>he's turned his back to the road/direction of the bus
>bus is about to go through an overpass
>guy gets decapitated
In history class a friend of mine pointed his fingers at the teacher as if he would aim a riffle at her. She was a well known pacifist at school and as a result she smashed the projector in front of her with the big history book she was holding in that moment. Classmate was threatened with expulsion by rector.
Theres a sushi thread y'all'd probably appreciate https://sushigirl.us/silicon/res/333.html
ive got a bunch but ive got limited time so I'll just post what's on the top of my head.
Our group used to hang out by these black concrete tables by the ampitheater at our school. As far as classic stereotypes were, we were the outcasts, kind of a mix of nerds, metalheads, emos, potheads, D&D/MTG players, etc basically anyone was allowed to hang out with us. One day we're fucking around and this kid picks me up over his shoulder and swings me around like a helicopter blade. Anyways this jock asshole from the ampitheater pushes the kid while he's spinning me, and the force of him falling down, multiplied by the centrifugal force of me spinning, caused my head to chip off a piece of the concrete from the table. I was out for about a minute.
I don't know many stories that don't involve some kind of debauchery or drug use, by the way, but I want to stress that these stories don't define my high school life, they were just a part of it.
In fourth and fifth grade I had a music teacher. Tall, lanky, middle aged. I wont say his name, but I think older student's called him something like Jorgy. Jorgy was a really interesting guy. He was extremely disorganized, messy, confusing and all around kind of bad at his job. A lot of times he would just not show up to work and wouldn't even leave a substitute in his place. Everyone in my class had to stand around, waiting for the office to get someone to fill in. Jorgy used a lot of strange ways to describe things like telling us to play, "fluffily". He also had quit the short temper and would yell at students pretty often for practically nothing. I was mostly spared from his wrath because my mom was also a music teacher at the same district. At pretty much every concert Jorgy would hook my mother in and ask her to tune the student's instruments despite not being paid extra to do so and only being there because of me. He bossed around and pushed a lot of work onto his co-workers actually. When someone was assigned something with him he would just wait until the other person did everything. If the work wasn't done both people would get the blame not matter what, so he knew it would get done with or without him. That's just how things worked and since Jorgy somehow got tenure they couldn't do anything about it. As long as everything was done the administrators didn't care. Got paid more than my mom too… Now, Jorgy was always kind of a nervous guy, but around the second half of forth grade he got a lot more so. It was a bit strange. He started randomly getting injuries like a broken leg, or a damaged cornea. He started missing more and more classes. None of my classmates thought much of it at the time. A couple years after, right smack in the middle of the year he just quit. He was always saying that he was gonna do it and it was obvious that he hated his job, but this time he really did it. His timing was the strange thing. He didn't wait until the end of the year or even during a break. He just left one day. I asked my mom about it and only then did I get some background information. Apparently towards the start of my fourth school year he was showing off his fancy new phone to all of his coworkers. Right around when he started acting strangely though his phone was mysteriously replaced by a really old, cheap one. Not only that, but he would change his phone number practically every month. Money that was supposed to be for music started vanishing. Instruments started going missing too and the only person that could have been alone with them around the times that they were stolen was him. His explanations for his injuries were questionable at best. My son hit me with a baseball, I fell down the stairs, that kind of thing. About his new job he said his relative or friend, somebody he knew, was offering him a position at a church or something, but nobody really knew for sure were he worked after that, they were just glad he was gone. None of them even kept in touch. My mom's theory was that he got involved with loan sharks. That would explain the injuries and missing money. She figured he borrowed some money and couldn't pay them back hence the injuries and the need to steal. Again, nobody really knows for sure what happened to him or where he went.
fuck man i you guys had some cool shit going on.
i think the most exciting story i have was when…………….
fuck nothing interesting ever happened ;_;
This isn't a story that has to do with school, but I was a kid at the time and it did have to do with classes of a sort. I used to take Karate lessons around the time that I was in middle school. I didn't have much of an interest in it, but I kept going every week and getting through it on account of my parents. Two years into it a new kid who was a bit younger and much shorter than me starts showing up. It was immediately clear that he was a belligerent little shit. He ignored the instructor's directions and constantly questioned them. He would always kind of taunt them when we had to do, "line drills". He made direct eye-contact with them when we had to step forward and punch so it seemed like he was directing the blow at them. He had the douchest shit-eating grin imaginable too which he constantly did. The instructors obviously hated him, they were always complaining amongst each other, but they couldn't do anything because they didn't own the fitness club. Every time they brought it up with his coddling mother she tried to excuse him by saying that he has emotional problems or whatever and that she'll try to get him to stop, which she never did. One day we're doing a partner drill where one person punches and the other person steps back and blocks. I have the misfortune of being partnered up with the shit smear. Before we start he gives me that fucking smile and stares right into my eyes. I don't know how intentional what happened next was on my part to this day, but I do know that i'm glad I did it. On the first count right as I launch the punch, when the other person is supposed to step back and he would easily be able to do so if he was paying attention, my fist slams into his jaw. I can still vividly remember the instant change from smirk to grimace on his face. He starts sobbing immediately. Apparently a few of his baby teeth were knocked loose. I start apologizing profusely over and over again, and I think that at the time I was genuinely sorry. The instructor who was there tried to feign concern, but you could tell they were kind of happy. Never saw the kid again.
>was that kid who made comics out of my doodles
>was that kid who EVERYONE knew because of my autism
i miss being 14 - 16
Our high school's auto-shop class was towards the back corner of the school adjacent to the outskirts behind the football field.
One morning we were all outside power washing the floor when we hear a very loud and slightly slurred, "FfffFFUUUuuUUCK yewww……." and we all sort of look around trying to figure out where it came from.
Around the corner a few moments later comes a very fat and quite intoxicated mexican young adult on a bicycle. He has a large backpack and an acoustic guitar wrapped around him, and he is swerving heavily. As the bikes handlebars dipped closer to the ground on either side of him and he overcompensated time and time again,
And he reaches the gate, exiting the school grounds
"FUCK you faggot PO-LICE!"
he shouts, and on he goes around another corner and out of our sight.
We stare at each other in disbelief for another few moments, but before we can return to our task, around the corner comes another something: A very fat and sunglassed security guard driving a "SECURITY" golf cart that is clearly straining under his weight to keep up, sagging and bouncing heavily at every pothole or unevenly paved surface.
Nothing interesting ever happened to me in school, but some of my colleagues had interesting background stories. One of them was a colleague from another class in high school. She came from Brazil when she was just a young child. Back when her parents still lived in Brazil they inhabited in a good and safe neighborhood. One day their neighbors' kid with around the same age as my colleague disappeared without leaving any trace. For a short time people there believed that he might have left home and get lost (or maybe hoped it was so). Then one day a small box arrived to his parents' mailbox. Inside was a child's fingers, presumably their son's. There was no explanation note, no sender info, no ransom, no calls with threats, nothing at all. Someone was doing that just because they wanted. Her parents moved to another country that same year in fear their kid could be next and to give her a safe place where to grow up.