When we finished third grade, entering fourth, three classes were jumbled into two. Friends were split up and everything was new and exciting.
However, when our equally new and exciting teacher crush decided to leave after only one term, something happened to our class.
We didn't huddle together and make a conscious decision, but I can't say were weren't aware of what was happening either; for some reason, we started bullying the temps until they quit.
We had become the terror of our school.
The last one (or, there might've been only one, I can't quite remember), actually broke down and cried.
That was a real shock - I don't think we had realised until then that what we were doing was actually for real.
But, after that, we got a proper talking to, and in the end we got a really great teacher we loved to bits.