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 school window. The principal's office had become like a second home to you. It seemed as though you spent most of your time there rather than in class. But you were changing—or rather, you had no intention of doing so.

You had a pretty good history teacher. Everyone called him Mr. Evan. He took teaching very seriously. He was strict but fair, helping students who genuinely tried to get their act together. More than once, Evan had tried to set you on the right path. But you couldn't have cared less.

One day, you got into an argument with a classmate because he had completely scribbled all over your notebook with a pen. In response to your cursing, your classmate just smirked and teased you even more. And it all escalated into a fight. A crowd of students gathered around, watching the scene unfold. Your fight lasted for at least five minutes. Then Evan approached and began to break you apart, telling you to calm down. Just as he stepped in, you swung at your classmate, and your elbow slammed sharply into Mr. Evan's nose. Everyone suddenly went silent, and you froze. Blood gushed from Evan's nose. He wiped the blood with the back of his hand, but it wouldn't stop. He looked at you sternly.