Tyler Jones was a pretty stout young man. At five-seven, two-hundred-twenty pounds, he made most of the other fifth graders in Ms. Lawrence's class look like first graders. Despite his crooked grin and the charm he often layered on thick, Tyler spent his fair share of time sitting in the principal's office thinking about his choices. As he shuffled down the hallway toward class, his backpack thrown over one shoulder, his lunchbox grasped firmly in his fist, he tried to push the unpleasantness of that morning out of his mind. Perhaps if his father drank a little less in the evenings, he'd be more inclined to get up and take Tyler to school in the morning, maybe even make it to work himself. But Tyler had learned a long time ago most teachers didn't really care what happened to you at home so long as you left it at the doorstep and became "proactive" the second you walked into their classrooms. Ms. Lawrence was a little different than most of Tyler's other teachers, though. She could usually tell when his day had started off out-of-sorts. And he was hoping today she would have a special job for him, like she often did when he was upset, something that would take his mind off of home and give him the opportunity to start his day fresh.

Ms. Lawrence would have been short even if Tyler wasn't so tall, but it didn't matter; she stood by her door with a smile on her face, her blond hair perfectly pulled up in a loose ponytail, her outstretched hand waiting for his. "There's my guy! How are you doing Tyler?" she asked in a voice that indicated she was definitely a morning person.

Tyler couldn't help but smile in response as he shook her tiny hand. "I'm good, Ms. Lawrence," he replied, suddenly feeling much more optimistic. "Do you have a job for me today?"

Ms. Lawrence looked around the classroom as if she wasn't prepared for the question. After a moment, however, inspiration hit her. "Yes, Tyler, I do! Can you see all of those papers and things laying on the floor behind my desk?"

Tyler glanced into the classroom, his head bobbing to and fro as he attempted to see around other students. "Yes, ma'am," he finally nodded.

"I think they may have gotten knocked off while the custodian was vacuuming. Would you mind picking all of that stuff up and setting it back on the counter for me, my friend?"

"No problem, Ms. Lawrence," Tyler beamed, proud to think of himself as friends with what must surely be the best fifth grade teacher in the universe.

"Perfect!" she called as he crossed the room. "I knew I could count on you, Tyler!"

Tyler was still grinning from ear to ear as he tossed his backpack and lunchbox into his seat. He'd worry about putting those away later. Right now, Ms. Lawrence had given him a very important job, and he needed to tend to it right away. Stooping down wasn't always the easiest for him, so Tyler dropped down on his knees, scooping up the offending items as quickly as possible. Once he was sure he hadn't missed anything, he struggled back up to his feet, placing the objects on the counter. He paused for a moment to survey his work; he had done quite an efficient job of picking up this mess, after all. He was puzzled to see that one of the items was a cell phone. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Ms. Lawrence's familiar iPhone on her desk. He had seen her use it lots of times before, so he knew this older model smartphone in a black case definitely wasn't hers. Tyler had always wanted a smartphone. He'd asked for one for his birthday and Christmas both of the last two years, but he never got one. In fact, his mom had made it pretty clear she wasn't planning on getting him a phone at all anytime soon. Holding the object of his desire in his hand, he eyed Ms. Lawrence carefully, and then glanced back at the phone. It wasn’t hers. She probably wouldn’t even know if he took it. Despite the nagging in the back of his head that he was slipping back into his old ways, Tyler shoved the phone into his pocket, straightened up the rest of the items he’d rescued from the floor, and went over to his desk to get his backpack and lunchbox, hopeful that no one had seen him take the phone.

Of course, Tyler couldn’t get off that easily. “Hey, what’s that you’re sticking into your pocket?” Max Morris asked as he plopped himself down in the chair next to Tyler’s.

“Nothing,” Tyler shrugged, hoisting his backpack over the back of his seat and approaching his appointed hanger. Max pushed his glasses up on his nose, staring after his neighbor. He was the kind of guy Tyler would normally want to punch in the face, but since Ms. Lawrence talked so much about everyone being friends, he’d been a little nicer to Max. Still, as he crossed back over to grab his lunchbox and stick it in the basket by the door, Max’s insistence that he “saw somethin’” was beginning to get on his last nerve.

As Tyler threw himself into his seat and pulled out his journal to begin his morning work, he couldn’t help but notice Max was still staring at him intently, like he was about to find out some important information. With a heavy sigh, Tyler whispered, “My mom got me a new cell phone, all right? But it’s just for emergencies. I don’t wanna put it in my backpack, so just be quiet about it, and maybe Ms. Lawrence won’t know it’s in my pocket, okay?”

Max pushed his long brown bangs up on top of his forehead. “You didn’t find it on the ground over there by Ms. Lawrence’s desk?” he asked suspiciously.

“No! Tyler shot back, his annoyance about to boil over now. “I had it in my pocket, all right? Geeze. Now, leave me alone, and get to work on your journal assignment.” Tyler gave him a stare that was a warning to Max that he had better back off or face the consequences.

“Whatever,” Max finally acquiesced. “Probably just a piece of junk that doesn’t work anyhow,” he added.

Tyler dropped his pencil, his head flying up from his work. What if he was right? What if he’d finally gotten a smartphone, and the lousy piece of junk didn’t even work? His hand shot up into the air, gaining Ms. Lawrence’s attention as she was crossing back over to her desk, a look of tragic importance scowling up his forehead.

“What is it, Tyler?” Ms. Lawrence asked, her voice teetering on concern.

“Can I go to the bathroom?” he asked, hoping she could hear the urgency in his tone.

Ms. Lawrence sighed, and Tyler was pretty sure she was going to ask what any other teacher would ask; why hadn’t he gone before class. But she didn’t. “Of course,” she replied. And that was why Ms. Lawrence was the best fifth grade teacher in the universe. Tyler pulled himself out of his desk and made his way as quickly as possible to the bathroom, his hand placed carefully over the outside of his pocket.

Tyler was the kind of kid who didn’t have to say anything to get the bathroom to clear out as soon as he opened the door. In this case, there were just a couple of second graders admiring themselves in the mirrors. One stern look from the hulky fifth grader and they left pretty quickly. Tyler ducked into the closest stall, locking the door behind him. With an anxious sigh, he pulled the stolen device out of his pocket. “You’d better work!” he mumbled quietly, hoping he could threaten the cell phone to do his bidding much the way he had other students at recess or lunch. He pushed the home button on the bottom of the screen, hoping it would instantly bounce to life. It didn’t. He muttered a swear word he’d heard his dad say lots of times but one he wasn’t allowed to say. He tried shaking it, but that didn’t work. He held it up to his ear. No dice. Turning it over and over again in his hands, he noticed a button on the top of the phone. He thought he had seen his mom press this button on her phone once or twice when she was angry with it, so he decided to give it a try. He pressed it. Nothing happened. Aggravated, he pressed it again, this time a little harder. “Work, you stupid piece of….” Before he could even finish his insult, a light came on, and he could feel a warmth emanating from the device. He turned it over to look at the screen and could see an apple coming to life in the center. “Yes!” he whispered, a congratulatory fist pump marking his victory. He waited just a few more seconds to make sure it came all the way to life before he heard a noise at the door and realized he needed to get back to class. Pressing that top button again, and holding it down, he waited for the phone to go back to sleep before shoving it into his pocket and rushing past a startled third grader on his way back to class.

When he returned, Ms. Lawrence was giving directions to the class, but she smiled at him sweetly, welcoming him back to class. He slid into his seat and glared at Max Morris. As soon as his teacher was done speaking, he threw an elbow into Max’s scrawny ribcage. “Shows what you know. My phone does too work!” he whispered.

Max grimaced and put his hand on his side, but he didn’t say anything. He knew the old Tyler well enough not to tattle on him. He wasn’t buying this new goody-two-shoes Tyler. He’d find another way to make sure Tyler got what he had coming to him.