Hi! This is Emma here. I hope you like my new fan fiction, and if you read it, be sure to leave comments I want to know if I should continue it.
All original Pendragon characters are NOT mine, and I do not claim them as my own!
He exited the window on the computer, expecting the bell to go at any second.
"Alright," he said, scanning the classroom. "That's it for today. Enjoy the weekend, and remember to bring in your notes on Monday- finished."
A collective groan came from the class as they gathered up their things, even though they knew their teacher wasn't harsh.
"Mr Mac?" one of the high school girls asked.
"Yes, Vanessa?" the teacher replied, "What can I do for you?"
"I was just wondering abou-"
"Patrick? Can I talk to you?"
Vanessa looked slightly disappointed to be interrupted by her principal.
"Here, Vanessa," said Patrick, scribbling on a scrap of paper. Yes, even though everything revolved around computers now, he still carried paper for this purpose. "If you can't figure it out, just give me a call. With a little practice, I know you can ace Mondays test."
Vanessa gave him a shy and thankful smile, and scurried off towards her locker.
"Patrick…" said the principal, Mr Smith, shaking his head. "You really shouldn't be teaching Grade twelve history…"
"What? Why's that?" Patrick Mac replied, suddenly fearing for his job.
"Have you seen the way those girls look at you?" he laughed, obviously not thinking of firing the young teacher.
"They enjoy history, that's all," Patrick replied, shrugging. He was slightly confused now.
"Well, at least one of them is smitten with you," Mr Smith chuckled, obviously referring to Vanessa.
"What? Vanessa Black? No. She just needs extra help, that's all…" he tried to explain, though feebly, for he was starting to see the other man's point.
"But, it wouldn't be year 5010 without you, Mr Mac," sighed the Principal, examining the part time teacher/part time librarian's desk. Neat as a pin, of course.
Since Patrick practically lived in the library, all his electronic equipment was in order- not a chip out of place.
"Sure it would," the teacher replied, curious as to what Mr Smith wanted to talk to him about. "Now, why did you really come here? Surely it wasn't to talk about my job."
"Right, right," said Mr Smith, taking a seat in one of the many chairs in the small classroom. "A man came here this morning, asking to see you. He looked quite disheveled, and was going on about how he needed to see you, and how important it was."
"What? Who was it?" Patrick looked shocked. Who would want to see him, and how important could it be?
"He said his name was Press Tilton."