“Watch where you’re going, you clumsy oaf!” Alex snapped, not bothering to apologize.
Mr. Jenkins chuckled, a low, gravelly sound. “I doubt that, miss. You see, I’ve been working here for over 20 years. I’ve seen students like you come and go. You think you’re special, but you’re not. You’re just another entitled brat who thinks the world revolves around her.”
As she did, she noticed that Mr. Jenkins was still around, but his presence was “Watch where you’re going, you clumsy oaf
Alex’s face burned with indignation, but Mr. Jenkins simply shook his head and began to clean up after her.
Mr. Jenkins looked up at her with an unreadable expression, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before he began to stoop and pick up her belongings. “I’m sorry, miss,” he muttered, “but you might want to learn to take responsibility for your actions. Not everyone’s as fortunate as you.” “I doubt that, miss
As the days went by, Alex noticed that Mr. Jenkins seemed to be everywhere, quietly observing her and her friends. She began to feel a growing sense of unease, as if he was watching her every move.
Alex bristled, her entitled attitude flaring up. “Mind your own business, janitor. I’ll have you fired if I have to.” You think you’re special, but you’re not
His name was Mr. Jenkins, a quiet, unassuming man in his late 50s with a gaunt face and sunken eyes that seemed to bore into those he looked at. He was always impeccably dressed in his janitorial uniform, and his cart, stocked with cleaning supplies, was a familiar sight on campus.