~~~AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Well, here's something a lot less dark than my usual stuff. I've always wanted to do a story like this and now I finally have the chance. I hope you guys enjoy it. Lemme know what you think, it means a lot.~~~

Sauli:

I hated chemistry with a passion.

I despised my useless teacher, Ms. Terry.

Muttering aimlessly to myself, I trudged my way to second block chemistry. No matter how hard I tried, this crap just made zero sense to me. I was eighteen and a senior in high school, yet I still felt like a third-grader in that class. Eventually, I'd given up on trying. I was good at everything else except this bullshit course that I needed.

I groaned quietly when I walked into class and noticed that all of the good seats in the back were taken. I had no choice but to sit front row and center with all the eager kids. Fan-fucking-tastic. Up close and personal with Ms. Douchebag. I plopped down the nearest seat, more than ready to jump right back up and sprint out of here.

The bell rang, irritating my ears. Just the thought of being here again turned my mood sour. I wasn't normally so pissed off. It was just a side effect of Chemistry. I sighed and drummed my fingers against the wooden desktop, waiting for this sorry excuse of a teacher to show up. The class chatted away, rambling on about their relationship problems and projects they hadn't yet started that were due after lunch.

Almost half the class later, Ms. Asshole finally walked in, looking huge with her fetus-occupied womb. The class didn't even stutter in the buzz of conversation. I braced myself and covered my ears just as she smacked a meter stick against the whiteboard. Everyone jumped and immediately shut up.

"Class," Ms. Bitch squawked in her annoying voice. You know how when you hate someone, everything they do becomes intolerable? Yep, I was experiencing that. "I have some bad news. This is my last day here."

I sat upright with a spark of interest in what she was saying for once.

She continued, rubbing her belly, "My husband and I are transferring to a new district so our baby can grow up in a less crappy neighborhood, no offense."

Offense taken. I was raised here.

I briefly wondered who the hell would fuck her. That was just fucking nasty. Was her husband bribed or something? I also felt bad for the fetus. One of the first faces it was going to have to look at was hers. It wasn't like Ms. Terry was horribly ugly, but I just hated everything about her. I blamed her for my terrible understanding.

"As you all know, we are being visited by student teachers who are here to stay in classes and observe how us professionals teach," I rolled my eyes at professionals, "and to try their hand in this art of education." Oh god, someone was going to learn how to teach from this idiot? Poor fucker. "My student teacher is actually going to take over this class until the school can find someone more permanent to replace me. It's good practice for him. We've made certain that he's more than capable of controlling. I'm sure he'll be almost as good as I was." I twitched at her absurd statement and resisted the urge to attack.

Great, now I really wasn't going to learn shit if some newbie loser was going to try to control this chaos of a class.

Ms. Dipshit checked her watch and scowled. "Although, he's running late and I really need to leave now for a scan. Behave! He should be here soon. Goodbye… you little assholes." That last part was mumbled so lowly that I was sure I was the only one who heard it. Sitting in front had its perks.

Good riddance, you son of a bitch.

There was nothing but complete silence as Ms. Fucker left the room. Everyone just listened quietly. Then, as her footsteps disappeared around the hall, the class erupted. I ducked as papers and various other items were chucked back and forth across the length of the room, followed by triumphant shouts.

I just stayed put in my seat, staring fixedly at the board ahead of me. Why were they celebrating? This was only going to get worse. Ms. Terry had years of experience to back her up and she still sucked. And now, we were going to get some inexperienced nerd out of university to school us? Not happening. I for one was actually worried about what this would do to my grades.

Something in my peripheral caught my attention, and my head automatically turned to inspect. In walked a tall, lean man, carrying a stack of boxes. I raised my eyebrows. He was entirely focused on not dropping the weight in his hands as he made his way over to the teacher's desk. He abruptly dropped the boxes onto wooden surface, causing a jolting bang. Everyone froze and turned to the front to see where the commotion came from.

The man brushed his hands together and let out an exhausted breath. He turned to face the class and immediately beamed at us. I heard someone gasp in the back. I could see why. He definitely didn't look like Ms. Nasty, all crusty and bent. Nope, this guy was standing straight in what was a very intimidating stance, clothed in what was a mix of formal and casual apparel hugging his lean body: Dark jeans, sneakers, followed by a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a gold tie. It was a perfect blend of both worlds. But it wasn't his acceptable choice of clothing that caused the little cloud of interest in the class. I mean, it was part of it, but my main reason for forgetting to blink for a minute was his face.

Never in a million years would I have expected this. The guy looked like he belonged here, like a fucking student. He was so young. Bright, curious, pale blue eyes flickered over the rows of desks in shocking contrast to his jet-black hair that splayed around his face. And to top it all off, a smile so dazzling appeared that it could blind you from miles away. His wandering gaze met mine briefly and I prayed that no one heard the little squeak that escaped my throat.

Without even doing anything but arriving, everyone's attention was on this strange, unfamiliar, and gorgeous man. It would normally take Ms. Shit over ten minutes to get anyone to give her some form of concentration.

This was our new teacher? Holy shit.

Everyone stopped drooling when his musical voice broke the silence.

"Hey, guys!" the man said. Hey, guys? Was he for real? You would say something like that to your friends on the football team or something. That was totally not a proper teacher greeting. He really was inexperienced. He'd soon learn that he probably needed to toughen up if he wanted people to take him seriously, but hey, that was just my first impression. "I guess introductions are due, hey? Okay, I'm Adam Lambert and I'm your former student-teacher and now your new temporary teacher. Any questions?"

Some asshole called out, "Um, is this a joke?" Mr. Lambert gave him a curious glance. "Dude, how old are you? You can't seriously be a teacher."

Mr. Lambert grinned and I could've sworn I felt the asshole faint mentally.

"Well, dude, it's Mr. Lambert to you, and no, this is very serious," Mr. Lambert said with amusement in his voice. "And I'm twenty-two, not like that matters." He leaned against the teacher's desk, crossing his arms. I spotted freckles.

"Wait, so you're actually going to be our teacher?!" A pretty girl next to me asked out loud. "You're practically a baby!"

Mr. Lambert smirked and gave her a nod. He said, "Honey, if I'm a baby, then you're all still sperm cells." A few people chuckled. "Anyway, I'm here for a least for a little while. I was supposed to take over the class with your teacher monitoring, but she's gone, so… I'll be here until they can find someone else." The girl turned to her friend and squealed a little.

Mr. Lambert waited a few more seconds before clapping his hands together once. "Well, if that's it, I would love to get to know your names and one thing about you."

Oh crap. No… I hated this get-to-know-each-other bullshit at the start of every year, and now again in the middle? Fuck. I had nothing interesting to say.

Mr. Lambert went up and down the aisles, standing over people's desks as they excitedly grabbed his attention one by one and started spewing nonsense about themselves. He commented every now and then, sometimes laughing. I didn't listen to a single word; I was too busy sweating and trying to come up with something to say. But, time was up before I knew it. I looked up to see a looming figure standing over me with a kind smile.

"And you?" Mr. Lambert said, gesturing for me to continue when I just gawked at him.

"S-Sauli," I stuttered nervously and quietly, unable to really look at him.

"Wait, I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

I mentally groaned. "Sauli," I enunciated.

Mr. Lambert smiled brightly and I nearly toppled out of my seat. "Ooh, Sauli. Are you European?" The way my name rolled off his tongue. So hot.

"Finnish," I muttered.

He nodded knowingly. "Last name?"

"Koskinen," I mumbled, feeling my face heat up. I could only glance up at him every once in a while. I couldn't hold his intense eye-contact. This was so embarrassing. I could feel everyone else staring daggers into the back of my head.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Koskinen," Mr. Lambert chimed. "And what's one thing I should know about you?"

Without even pausing to think about it for a split-second, I stupidly blurted out, "I hate chemistry. Don't get it, never will."

I regretted the words as soon as they left my lips.

The slight disappointment on my new teacher's face was like a hard slap to mine.

He recovered within the blink of an eye and said dryly, "That's really too bad considering what this course is."

He then continued down the rows without another word to me. I sank lower into my desk, wanting to disappear. My heart was pounding from embarrassment. This guy had such an overwhelming presence.

I blanked out for the rest of the class until Mr. Lambert said, "Tomorrow, we will begin actually learning some stuff. I have so many things planned for this class. Who here is as passionate about chemistry as I am?"

One person put her hand up. And I knew she didn't actually know anything. She just wanted his undivided attention.

Mr. Lambert popped his lips after scanning over the class with pleading eyes. "That's just sad. We're gonna fix this and get some enthusiasm in here before I leave. Got it?" he said excitedly.

A few people mumbled out some half-hearted agreements.

The bell rang and Mr. Lambert bid us goodbye as he walked over to the board. I paused before I headed out the door, curious to see what he was writing. I nearly threw up when I saw the chemical equations, and he was smiling to himself as he did so.

Oh god, it was like he was doing that for fun.

Mr. Lambert's head turned to me slightly as he continued writing, giving me a parting smile and a wink.

A wink.

If any other teacher did that, it'd be creepy as fuck. My legs turned to jelly for a moment, and I swooped out of the class before I could make more of a fool out of myself.

After second period was the dreaded lunch time. I headed over to the cafeteria with my bagged ham sandwich and juice box. I scanned the tables and sighed, settling for an empty table in the back corner. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I didn't have any friends whatsoever. This was my first, only, and last year at this school, and I never bothered really talking to people. I guess for that, they all ended up hating me or something, assuming that I thought I was better than them somehow? I didn't really know what the reason was. I didn't think I was a bad person or anything like that. No one liked to be seen with me. I couldn't blame them really. I didn't want to be seen with me either.

I took a huge bite out of my sandwich and looked up to see Mr. Lambert across the cafeteria talking to a couple female teachers and laughing like they'd known each other forever. Oh fuck him, even he already made friends. Fuck this. I ate the rest of my lunch while scowling at my paper bag.

When lunch was finally over, I merrily headed to Drama class, the second last block of the day out of four. It was senior year, so there wasn't really much to worry about since we all had most of our credits completed.

I walked into the Drama room only to find Mr. Lambert surrounded by a fan club of girls. Oh, you had to be kidding me. He was taking over this class too? Seriously? Like I wasn't mortified enough by him?

I sighed again and sat down in the corner of the floor after the bell rang. Mr. Lambert politely dismissed the girls with hearts in their eyes and went through some version of his introduction again after they sat down. This time, he mentioned a theater background and all of his years of experience with acting and such.

And once again, Mr. Lambert went through a name game, but when he landed on me, he said with another smile, "Mr. Koskinen, chemistry hater, nice to see you here as well."

He remembered my last name. I fought the urge to fan myself. I ignored the chemistry remark. Well, sort of. I ended up glaring at him a little, for which he reacted with a chuckle and moved on. I hid myself into the shadows. Could I please leave?

The entire time Mr. Lambert was talking, I could hear obnoxious whispers buzzing around my head via the girls about "how hot he looks", "how he is in bed", and the occasional "I'd tap that". I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help stare up at him and let those same thoughts creep into my head. An image flashed into my mind of Mr. Lambert naked, sweaty and aroused, and I quickly shook it out of my head. What the fuck, Sauli?

We spent the class playing tableau games, which Mr. Lambert explained as basically freezing into a random scene with people and everyone else trying to guess what we were doing in our frozen states. I had to admit, it was quite fun.

But the biggest moment came when Mr. Lambert came by and fixed my "pain" tableau, telling me I wasn't quite believable yet, and that the gestures I was making looked more like archery practice.

His soft hands reached me, wrapped around my biceps and moved me into the correct position.

I was freaking out internally at the touch, and it could have been just me, but I thought his hands lingered too long on me, and he was a bit closer than strictly necessary. I didn't mind. My heart was thrashing afterward.

Sauli, get it together. You're pathetic.

~~~AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Comment/Kudos?~~~