Monday, January 7

Dear Dad, It's the first day of school. I haven't thrown up yet, so that's a good sign. Text me when you get this, alright? 

My phone pinged and dad's name lit up on my screen. Hugs and Kisses from the other side darling! It read, and I tucked my phone inside my back pocket.

Though I knew he should have been sleeping then, I was glad I had a father who'd stay up late to reply to my messages. I pressed my bag closer to my chest. This was it, my second year at Rose County High. Lingering by the entrance a little longer, I took a deep breath and made my way inside.

As always, the beginning of the year seems to be in a buzz. After nearly three weeks off for the holidays, we are finally back on campus - which also meant the promotion of each section as one level higher up the food chain.

Perspiration, tension, and excitement filled the crowded halls. Some students gathered around the bulletin searching their names as to where their new homeroom was, while others gossiped, socialized, and chattered away as they compared each other's schedules. Patiently waiting for my turn, I blended behind a group of girls, squealing about something I tuned out. Folding my limbs as close to me as possible, I let my mind wander to the new novel I was dying to sink my teeth into. I just got a notification that it was in the mail. Finally receiving my turn to skim through the large blackboard nearly taking over the entire hallway wall, I spotted my name shining like wildfire amongst the pool of names.

Class 2-1. It read, in other words, second-year, room one. You see, unlike other schools, although a public school, Rose County High is an escalator school. The student body is sectioned by ranks (broken down in three grade levels in the high school division), and if the rumors were true, last year's intelligence scores determine which classes these students end up in - the overachievers, middle, and underachievers. This also meant those who were in the top 20 last year are systematically placed at the top class - class 1 - and the list goes on.

I read my name the second time, pinpointing the numbers next to it; and seeing that they can’t change on their own, I finally resigned to the idea that I was definitely placed in this year’s class 2-1.

Mr. Sean's class.

Maybe it was pure coincidence, a mess up, I don't know... I didn't even study for the quarterly exams and now *bam* I'm suddenly placed in one of the most prestigious classes amongst Rose County High.

To be specific, they threw this nobody into a pit with the youngest and most attractive teacher alive.

I pinched myself. The fact that I am in his class still hadn't sunk in. It was hard to believe a person like me would suddenly leap from the bottom and end up... well... up there in this man's class.

You see, I was originally a fledgling of Class 1-3's Miss Ivan's class were all the rumored "dumbest" and “behavior exempted” ranking students were placed. If you were like me blending into the background, not pissing anyone off and failing just like the rest of the class, you were considered part of the social circle... if you were like Tim Burns on the other hand, expect to be called a teacher's pet for life.

Hearing someone gasp behind me, a former classmate I suppose, I made my way through the hall aimlessly and simply dumbfounded. I was okay being in a higher-level class since it would be a great opportunity for me, but being with my childhood crush was a new battlefield, something I just couldn’t handle.

I mean don’t get me wrong, the dude is a good guy, and I know I would be in great hands. It’s just that it would be REALLY awkward.

You see, I've known Jason Sean a.k.a Mr. Sean since I was five. Our parents were best friends... almost inseparable, so technically we were best friends despite the ten year age gap.

When we were young he'd come over for a sleepover and we'd talk for hours. He would help me with my homework and tell me bedtime stories just like any older brother would, and stayed over when my parents were away during their typical business meetings.

However, things changed between us after he had finished high school. Jason left the state to finish college... he always dreamed of going to an Ivy school college... to specialize in criminology, but I guess things changed during those oh so many years and decided he wanted to be a teacher instead. What can I say, to each his own?

The first few years he left, we would write letters and he would never miss a day without calling. He eventually became a busy body and we eventually stopped communicating.

He returned home years after graduating as a cum laude and was even handsome as ever, growing an enviable inch or maybe more every year, while I had to drink milk just to force an inch that never came.

His cute smile was even hotter now with that mere side smirk he would flash every once in a while, and rarely show that full one I'd use to love.

His teenage years passed as he grew older and eventually matured to a real grown man as shown by his entire God-given physical features.

At the age of 26, it's so hard to believe that someone like him still lived with his parents, or should I say parent to be exact, since his "mother" who couldn't have kids and technically because of this, her husband left - I shouldn't have disclosed that personal fact, but who am I kidding? You won't tell anyone, right?

The only mother he's ever known adopted the ten-year-old whose parents died in a tragic car accident and whose sister had abandoned him and chose to let him live his entire life in a poor lonely institution of an orphanage. Thus, here he was 16 years later teaching at my current high school, so there was no mistaking I'd see him 24/7.

24/7? Okay fine, I'm exaggerating. It’s not like we live together, their house was just a door away, just across our humble abode. We'd see each other at parties held by our parents, but exchanged awkward glances not bothering to be the first to make the first move. And even if we did have a chance to make small talk, the conversation dies down with nothing more than an awkward silence.

Now, hearing his name as if it were just a foreign word shocked my insides; reading his name over and over as it passed by lips made my tongue twist - made me stutter. I can't even look at him straight in the eye whenever I passed by him during my first year. Now being in the same class as him, and him being my teacher - let's just say it made me feel like I'll go insane.

The bell rang shortly, still in a daze as everyone shoved as they pushed through hallways. A couple of minutes passed and in an instant, the previously rustling halls fall into a deadpan silence, one that reminded me so much of a ghost town with no sign of life or humanity that lingered except mine.

I continued to drag on as my feet led me to my new classroom, dumbly staring at the metal door - the only existence that separated us. I debated on whether I should open it... and to my surprise, Jason pulled it back, cool breeze slapping my cheeks as half of his body came through the half slit of his door.

Both of us stood there, awkwardly staring at each other for a full-on minute. As if acknowledging the fact that I was indeed his new pupil, and like a gentleman he always was, he stepped aside to let me in.

Penetrating pairs of eyes followed me as I made my way inside, piercing me with a sword of their undeniable judgment.

I felt like a foreign blob, perhaps it was the vibe that they gave me screaming something along the lines of me being a unique nuisance, as they dissected me with their gazes.

I could imagine myself being this bright pink blob on a petri dish, well aware of all the attention I was getting and I felt deeply annoyed by the fact that he had me stand there like an idiot, expecting him to look up from his clipboard.

Finally directing me towards a seat in the middle row near the window for I relished my new corner for the remaining school year (I'm a weirdo I know). In my opinion, it's for the best. If I were upfront I'd have to look up all the time as he passed in front of me and god only knows I wasn't pleased with that much physical interaction no matter how bad I wanted too deep inside.

I made myself comfortable, immediately dropping my bag by my feet and pulled out a notebook and pencil. He seems to have taken attendance beforehand and began his lecture - something about the town’s history - until my thoughts trailed off and I was not paying attention to his lecture at all but everything he did.

The way the pecks under his shirt flexed as he moved or even gestured, the way his jaw made a sharp contraction as he spoke with an air of eloquence. Heck, I even noticed the fact that he had a habit of using the entire classroom, walking at each desk making the front barriers of students in front of me useless despite the fact it gave me somewhat of an opportunity to get as far away from him as possible before I confess my embarrassing attraction towards him.

The only thing that made me glad to be in his class was the fact that he fixated my seat by seat next to Justin, a guy my age dating a senior (a third-year) who was not only my cousin’s boyfriend but someone I actually knew and comfortable talking too, and man did I love keeping my circle of friends small and close.

Like any other teacher, Jason took his seat on the front of the class, skimming through each face and made sure each and every one of us was on task and not slacking off like I already am as we wrote our first essay assignment of the term.

Justin with his plump fingers all belonging to quarterback’s taps my shoulder and managed to slip a folded piece of paper in my hand.

Clipping the piece of paper between my palms I tried my best to hide it at all cost below me.

Mr. S's been staring at you... ;)

It read and it didn't take an Einstein to figure out what he meant. Looking up, Jason was indeed staring, but the action was only short-lived, I may have even imagined it because he was now looking away if I'm not mistaken rather guiltily for being caught red-handed. Okay I may just be conceited, we can't tell for sure he was staring. It could be a coincidence. For all, we knew he could have been staring at someone behind me.

I read the note about a dozen more times, blushing to myself as I tried to confirm it with reality. As I was about to reply to the message, Jason appeared right before my eyes snatching the note away. It was no wonder he was depicted as the god of the campus. Speed and agility were one thing, but sneaking up to me like a ninja? This man had mad skills.

I gasped, I didn't even see him coming, one moment he was there and the next he was... here.

I flinched, body trembling in fear as the clocked ticked, and struck by the realization that he had the note right in front of him. What if he hates me once he read its contents? The thought just made me want to sink under my desk and hurl.

His eyes searched the paper and as he did, the tension within me grew as I skimmed around my surroundings only to be returned with all pair of eyes including Justin, on me.

A blush seemed to escape his sangfroid expression or so I thought (if he did he had quickly brushed it aside before everyone got the chance to notice) and then his scolding slit eyes shifts between Justin and me.

"Miss Levine, Mr. Hunter," he says with his overly polished teacher tone, it sounds kind of awkward that I want to laugh at him like I always did back in the days but I can't and so I just held the urge in halfheartedly waiting for him to drop the A-bomb,

"This would be a warning. Next time I catch you two fooling around I'll have both of you sent to the D.O. is that understood?"

I was expecting him to say suspended. I haven't been to the DO's before but the worst they could do to us is pick up trash during lunch.

Exchanging quick glances, we nodded, feeling relieved. "Yes sir..." we apologized in unison having the entire class snickered. Jason lifted what we like to call the "preachers" hand because, like preachers who didn't need many words to pacify a rowdy crowd, he was able to calm down them within seconds.

It was just the first day of classes and I've already had my butt kicked by Jason. I'm starting to hate the idea of being in his class already.

Time seemed to go by rather slowly, and I couldn’t help but let out a silent sigh as the people around me continued to humor my earlier mess up. Great. Just what I wanted for another eighty-six or so days of my life.