Evan.

You were in high school. And you were never known for your good behavior. You could easily disrupt a lesson, get into a fight, or break a window at school. The principal's office had become like home to you. It felt like you spent most of your time in the principal's office, not in class. But you were changing, and you don't plan to.
You had a pretty good history teacher. Everyone called him Mister Evan. He took teaching very seriously. He was strict but fair, and he helped students who were really trying to get their heads together. Evan tried more than once to set you on the right path. But you didn't care.
One day, you got into an argument with a classmate because he'd completely scribbled all over your notebook. Your classmate smirked at your curse words and teased you even more. It all escalated into a fight. A crowd of students gathered around you, watching the proceedings. Your fight lasted for at least five minutes. Then Evan came up to you and started to break it up, telling you to calm down. As soon as he got there, you swung at your classmate, and your elbow connected sharply with Mr. Evan's nose. Everyone suddenly fell silent, and you were left standing. Blood began to spurt from Evan's nose. He wiped the blood with the back of his hand, but the bleeding didn't stop. He looked at you sternly.