The minute she had entered the class, Duncan thought she was just your ordinary teacher. Conservative clothing, simple hairstyle, small luggage, textbooks and documents, and exhausted features – all of those clearly screamed out what she was.

Her heels clacked against the floor, echoing slightly in the hushed room. Shockingly, the classroom was eerily quiet. They had had new teachers and substitutes for the past few months, and they all usually didn't give a second look at he or she. It was strange on how everyone – both genders – was paying close attention to the young woman before them.

Duncan observed their new teacher more. Her jet black hair, which he knew was dyed, was in a half ponytail, rebellious strands falling down over her pale face quite stylishly. She had no make-up on whatsoever, though he could detect some eyeliner and light lipstick. She was skinny, incredibly so, but she had a tiny waist, which he often found attractive.

It was obvious.

Of course she had their full-on attention. She was pretty damn attractive – and young. He estimated she was about 28-years-old. In their high school, every single teacher was either in their mid-thirties, early forties, or, even worse, their fifties and up. The youngest teacher was 31-years-old, but Mrs. Hansen wasn't all that pleasing to the eye especially since she stammered and twitched a lot.

Their new teacher dumped all of her belongings on top of the mahogany desk. She let out a sigh of relief and stretched her arms. She popped her neck to the side, and Duncan raised a pierced eyebrow at that. She furtively glimpsed at her students and mumbled something to herself. She smoothed out her pencil skirt – Duncan thought it looked unsuitable for her; her legs weren't something to stare at considering how skinny they were – and put on a tentative smile.

"Hey, guys," she greeted. "I'm your new history teacher for now since Mrs. Johnston is on maternity leave for who-knows-how-long. I was originally supposed to be the new art teacher, but they told me to fill in for her in the meantime … " She scowled, realized that she did, and forced a smile. "Anyways, I hope that everything will go smoothly."

"Aren't you going to tell us your name?" Heather asked from the back rather snobbishly. Typical Heather.

The teacher's smile turned sickly sweet. "My name is Miss Matthews."

"And your first?" some random guy called out.

Miss Matthews glanced at him with a rather annoyed look and didn't answer him.

Duncan sighed, getting bored.

Throughout the rest of the period, Miss Matthews wrote down tedious notes on the board. It seemed Mrs. Johnston sent her the list of assignments, projects, and notes they were eventually going to do as time goes on. Although their history teacher was on maternity leave, they still had to do work, unfortunately. And Miss Matthews didn't give the impression of an pushover.

Unsurprisingly, Duncan didn't pay any attention whatsoever and didn't take any notes. He had placed his earphones in, had picked a song he felt like listening, and had drowned himself in his loud tunes. He didn't bring his binder, notebook, or any source of writing utensil, anyways.

As usual, someone brave enough tapped Duncan on the shoulder to inform him that the bell rang. The person was some female classmate of his, and she sat next to him all the time. He didn't know if she did that because she wasn't intimidated by him – which she should be – liked him, or preferred that seat.

Duncan got up and walked over to the door, heading out.

He saw Miss Matthews looking through some papers stapled together. He heard tiny grumblings coming out of her mouth. He noticed she had a scowl on her face as she skimmed through the papers. She rolled her eyes from time to time, too. She saw him looking at her.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked in a slightly disgruntled tone.

Duncan merely brushed off the question and exited the classroom. He took out his iPod and changed the song. He placed his iPod back inside his pocket and trudged slowly down the hallway.

He felt like skipping his classes already. Lunchtime seemed so far away in his perspective. For some reason, his patience was thinner than a strand of hair. He wanted to get out of this confinement, get into his truck, and drive away, as far as he could. He was highly tempted to drive over to one of his bud's house and crash over there forever. Put simply, he just felt … extremely tired of everything.

He stopped walking to his class and leaned back against one of the lockers, eyes shutting close. The cool metallic soothed the back of his head partially, but the hard surface was uncomfortable. He took out his iPod, eyes still closed, and turned up the volume. He wanted to kick away the mindless, irritating chattering surrounding him.

He was almost lost in his music when he suddenly heard something muffled underneath the thrashing beat.

He felt consistent tapping on his right shoulder, each tap increasing with great force. Annoyed by the disruption, he snapped his eyes open and saw the culprit. A heated feeling rose up his throat, but he swallowed it down. He took off one earphone.

"You're leaning against my locker," Courtney said sharply.

He glanced to the side, refusing to look at her, sighed heavily, and got off her locker. He put his earphone back on. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and walked off somewhere thoughtlessly.

Duncan's mood worsened tenfold. Now he really wanted to skip his classes. His next class was English 12 – he wondered how he passed his previous English classes even though he knew the answer – and he wasn't all that eager to face his teacher. He hadn't done any of his homework, and he refused to be reprimanded again and again. If he stayed here any longer, he would have to enter his most hated class … math class.

The bell rang.

The delinquent made a quick decision. He was already heading for the doors, heading for freedom, when the principal entered the doors. She narrowed her eyes at him underneath her spectacles and gestured for him to go to class with her index finger. He muttered a string of profanities directed at her and went the other direction.


Lunchtime was lunchtime – nothing special. Duncan merely ate with his school buddies: Geoff and his friends. Duncan knew Geoff ever since their middle school days; he considered him as a good friend. But whenever he was with him, Geoff's annoying friends would suddenly pop up from somewhere and be all loud. He was used to Geoff's boisterous tone, but if you tripled his tone with a bunch of other annoying ones … you would want to rip their jaws off. Geoff's little friends also thought that they were buddy-buddy with Duncan, which he didn't particularly like. He only hung out with them, because Geoff was there and he couldn't do anything about it.

Duncan was walking down the hallways when all of a sudden, Cody, the definition of the word geek, came up beside him, smiling and show the gap between his teeth.

"'Sup, Duncan," Cody greeted, trying to look all suave. He was attempting to walk like Duncan, but he looked like a twitching monkey. "How's it goin'?"

The pierced teen ignored the short teen and continued walking. He certainly didn't want to be dealing with him of all people. Duncan thought his intimidating aura would keep away even the largest geeks, but apparently his geek repellant was wearing off.

"It's goin' good? Good, good … ," the brown-haired boy continued, oblivious to Duncan's annoyed expression. "Hey, I heard you have a new history teacher – or she's actually just filling in for Mrs. Johnston. I also heard that … " – he leaned in closer, irritating the punk more; he hated it when people invaded his personal space – "she's a freakin' hottie! She was supposed to be the new art teacher, and I was hoping she would be. Since I have art with you, we could both stare at her hotness. We're friends, aren't – ?"

Hearing the word "friends," Duncan growled and halted. He grabbed Cody by the front of his shirt and lifted him up until he was a couple of inches above the ground. He was highly tempted to throw him all the way to China or farther. Cody's eyes widened at the abrupt action. He leaned in, glaring hard and icily through his wide eyes.

"Shut your damn mouth already," he said menacingly.

He let go of Cody's shirt and walked away. He felt a spark of delight at what just happened. It had been a while since he last threatened anyone or bullied anyone. He was too busy moping and acting as if a pile of shit dropped on him.

The art classroom's door was opened, so Duncan just glided in without doing any work. He was slightly surprised he wasn't late, but then again he had been doing actions he wasn't accustomed to.

As soon as he took his seat, he noticed Miss Matthews in the classroom. She was gazing upon the portraits the students in the past years had created. He saw her dark eyes stare intently at them as if she were absorbing in every single little detail. At times, she would look quite disturbed; other times, she would look impressed.

His art teacher, Mr. Knowles, came in with a pile of art supplies. He placed the art supplies in the tray and ordered a student to pass one supply each. He erased the chalkboard quickly – Duncan could see droplets of perspiration spitting everywhere – looking incredibly fatigued. He turned around and perceived that Miss Matthews was here, unaware that the bell rang.

"Miss Matthews," he called.

She didn't seem to hear him. She was busy looking at a model sculpture of a bat.

Mr. Knowles sighed exasperatedly. "Miss Matthews," he called louder.

She jumped slightly and whipped her head towards the teacher. "Yeah – uh, yes, Mr. Knowles?" she inquired.

"The bell rang; you're late for your class."

Miss Matthews looked behind her and saw the handful of students sitting in their seats. She hissed. She started leaving hastily, apologizing once to Mr. Knowles.

Mr. Knowles shook his head. "Only her first day and she's already late for her class. It's like she's still a student," he grumbled out loud. He stood up straight and clapped his hands together, the sound reverberating in the large classroom. "All right, guys – we have a big day ahead of us! Remember: we only have less than four months of school left, so there will be a lot of work! Just don't procrastinate and work hard; you'll succeed! Some of you guys are seniors in here, so I expect you to work harder than your fellow underclassmen!"

Yeah, like that'll happen, Duncan thought, rolling his eyes. He put in his earphones and began listening to his music.

Of course Mr. Knowles, fully informed about Duncan's insubordinate behavior, confiscated his iPod. He admonished him and gave him three sketching paper. Unlike the others who were supposed to sketch and draw the building assigned to them, he was supposed to do that and draw two animals. It had to be centered and shaded in accurately, or else he'd have to do it again and again.

"Damn it," Duncan muttered and reluctantly began his seatwork assignment.

His mind wandered off, and all of a sudden, he was pondering about Miss Matthews. He wondered if she was a good artist. The way her eyes speculated the artwork around the room gave off a feeling that she could see everything, artistically-wise. She could most likely detect even the smallest mistakes. But he knew he shouldn't assume that since he never even saw her art.

Miss Matthews was a young woman. He was bewildered why someone so young became a teacher so fast. Maybe she was extremely intellectual and got her teaching license way ahead of time. But he didn't see her as a genius. Since she was so young, shouldn't she be enjoying life instead of pursuing her dreams so fast? She would get bored eventually; she would regret her decisions.

Duncan cursed under his breath. This was what he gets for being so unlike himself. He was too occupied thinking about his new teacher and being so philosophical. He himself should enjoy life since he was only eighteen-years-old.

What was wrong with him? He hadn't pulled any pranks, and he never once thought about the senior prank he would pull with Geoff. He had had tons and tons of plans for his senior year. During the beginning of his year, he had been having the time of his life. He had played around with his teachers, hung out with his buddies outside and inside of school, and basically had done everything he had wanted.

Now, he felt so out of it. He didn't joke around with anyone anymore. He didn't playfully flirt with the girls anymore. He didn't skip classes anymore. He didn't feel as close with Geoff anymore. He didn't cause that much trouble anymore. He felt like he was stuck inside a room, the walls a barrier to reality. He honestly didn't feel like himself. It was like someone stripped off his personality.

Fortunately, the bell rang. Looking down, he saw that his drawings were full of vulgarity and inappropriate images. The feeling of delight from earlier increased, and he almost felt like grinning. He saw everyone placing their drawings inside the tray. Immediately, he gathered his drawings together and pushed people to the side to get to the front. As soon as it was his turn to put the papers, he hastily shoved his underneath the stack so his teacher wouldn't see it. Feeling triumphant, he exited the classroom.

He was going to get back into the game. He was crushing his pride way too much, and it was going to stop. He was tired of moping and moping. He was tired of being tired of everything. He was going to redeem himself. Threatening Cody and tricking the teacher weren't the beginning of it all. He was going to be Duncan. He was going to make sure everybody knows who he was, even that new teacher of his.

Duncan yawned. Damn, I'm crashed, he thought. His eyes slid over to the doors that screamed out freedom. He shrugged and started heading to those doors. Some people that were walking the opposite direction gave him wondering looks. He glared at all of them, frightening them. The delight sprung up, heightening and heightening. He opened the doors and embraced the fresh air.

Teal eyes narrowed towards his pickup truck. He started making a bee-line to towards his vehicle when all of a sudden, he saw someone leaning up against the wall from the right side. It was Miss Matthews. One foot was planted on the wall, making her pencil skirt ride up her small thighs. Her head was craned upwards, exposing her slender neck, letting the sunshine shine on it.

"Fuck my life," Duncan heard her moan for everyone to hear.

And, for the first time in months, a smirk slithered its way on his lips.


A/N —

Ugh, this chapter is the crappiest crap in my crappin' life. -.-

No, I'm not suddenly a D&G fan now. This story is purely DRAMA, not ROMANCE. I mean, there would be bits of romance here and there, but it's not focused on it. And just because I'm a hardcore D&C fan doesn't mean that I'll suddenly write a lot of fluff and sexy scenes of them.

Read on & find out.

Hope you lovelies enjoy! ❤