My English teacher in high school hated me. And mostly for good reason, I think, though both of us could have handled it better.

It was AP English.

The wellspring of the problem was that I was more well-read and knowledgeable about most things than she was, and she liked to think of herself as an intellectual. So it really bothered her. Whereas, I didn’t give a shit either way, but I liked pushing her buttons.

She really hated it when I’d fuck around in class all day, and then turn in a better essay than all the other kids that I’d spent only 30 minutes writing. Partially because I’d already read the assigned book when I was, like, 10, but in some areas I can just play.

I actually didn’t and don’t think I was any better than her.

I was just trying to out-arrogant her.

I won.