"Big wheels keep on turnin'..." Paul's hands beat on the steering wheel in time with Lynyrd Skynrd as he drove down the highway toward town. "....A Southern Man don't need him around anyhow!" he sang loudly, dancing in the driver's seat. His dark eyes shone with glee as the music pumped him up. Soon, Paul reached his destination and turned into the parking lot, waiting for the song to end.
Finally, the music stopped and Paul pulled the key from the ignition. Gradually, his heart beat returned to normal and he straightened his red tie and white Polo shirt and stepped out of his black F-150 pickup. Slowly, he made his way toward the large brick building ahead of him, past the people walking around on the lawn and sidewalks. Entering the building, he made his way to his room and moved toward his desk, plopping his briefcase down beside it.
"Good morning," he said warmly to the thirty 8th graders