Another experiment. Tell me if you love or hate it.
You know when you let out that first sigh of the morning in the school parking lot in your final year. The one that is long, saying "one more year". I let out that sigh as I slammed the rusted door of my pickup and stared at the too familiar school. I was usually the first student there. I saw the row of cars belonging to the faculty. And at the end was a shiny Volvo. I never remembered a Volvo… Guess Forks High inherited a new teacher.
I made my way to the front office to get my schedule. Ms. Cope smiled and handed me the list. With a returning, and utterly fake, smile I left to the library to organize what I needed. Ok I was a dork. I was in all honor classes and had all my credits, yet I stayed another year because of my best friend. She still had credits to yearn and I didn't want to leave her alone. Plus we had plans.
Her name was Mary-Alice Brandon. But heaven forbid you use her full name. She goes by Alice. I think the drama club went to her head. She was an actress. We decided we would both move to New York. I had a scholarship to NYU and she was going to the Actor's Studio. Together we saved up enough to rent out a studio apartment. Both of us working long shifts at the local antique shop.
I pulled out my fresh supplies and then looked over my schedule.
1st English 4 AP Honors
Cullen Room 3 Building A
The rest were the same as usual. But I never heard of a Cullen. Must be the owner of the Volvo. I shrugged and began placing paper and dividers into notebooks. Before long the bell rand for our ten minute warning. Eager to see this new teacher I hurried to Room 3 Building A.
I saw the door propped open and peeked inside. I saw a tall lean form with odd bronze bed head writing on the chalkboard. I silently made my way to the front row and settled into the chair.
I knew it was a guy, but I had yet to see his face. He wore a crisp white and light blue pinstripe oxford with dark grey dress slacks. His sleeves were rolled up at the crease of his elbows, showing forearms that slightly rippled with his writing. Soon students shuffled in loudly, chatting and giggling.
Then Mr. Cullen turned to face his class and I sat dumbfounded. My English teacher was hands down the most attractive man I had ever seen. He had sharp straight features and beautiful green eyes behind black framed glasses and a pouty-lipped smile.
I cleared my throat and shook the inappropriate thoughts from my head. Then he began speaking after the tardy bell rang.
"Good morning Seniors. I'm Mr. Cullen, the new head of the English department and your first period teacher. Here are my only rules in my class…"
This earned him a crowd of groans.
"I know, rules, but they are necessary. One, I do not tolerate sleeping during my class. Find something else to do, something productive. Two, no iPods or cd players during my lessons. Once I've sat down in this chair and go quiet, feel free to listen. And three, please, please don't half-ass on your work. Essays, I expect to be almost perfect. If you're having trouble, tutorials are after school on Mondays and Wednesdays."
Half the class wasn't even paying attention.
"Now that the boring stuff is out of the way, I'll go over the subject itinerary. Tomorrow we will begin reading a series of Edgar Allen Poe. The world of Gothic Literature. After each section of his collections I will assign a topic that you will write an essay over. My essays are to be school appropriate and at least three pages long."
He pushed his glasses farther up his nose and looked over the class. His eyes met mine as he opened his mouth to speak. But nothing came out. After a moment he adjusted his navy tie and began again, speaking this time.
"After the essay there will be a debate. Be prepared to speak in front of the class with concrete reasons for your argument. These debates will last the class period, each opponent will have twenty minutes to attest their outlook."
More groans. I on the other hand was buzzing with excitement. A class that was challenging and in high demand… And the fact it was taught by a completely drop-dead sexy teacher.
"Now with," he looked down at his watch, "twenty-five minutes left, I'd like to take attendance, when I call your name tell me your favorite book, favorite hobby and favorite color. Tell me if you prefer a nickname and correct me if I butcher it."
He went down the list, checking off names and nodding at their answers. "Isabella Swan?"
I timidly raised my hand and he waited. I blinked rapidly before speaking.
"Um, Wuthering Heights… R-reading… And green…" The last one was a slip. Before this class my favorite color was blue. I stared into his brilliant emerald eyes as he smiled.
"You like the classics." Then he gave a heartbreaking crooked smile before finishing up. Once he had called everyone he settled into his desk chair and picked up a pencil and began to scribble furiously. His brow furrowed in concentration.
I watched as he would write something, observe it then quickly scrub it with the eraser. I gasped when the bell chimed for our dismissal, throwing me from my Mr. Cullen induced haze.
With shaky hands I slowly began to rise from my seat and scuffled my way to the door.
"Isabella?" I froze and turned to see that he had put the pencil behind his ear and was standing.
"Yes, sir?" I asked in a shy voice.
"You seem excited about this class. You must enjoy Literature." His voice was smooth and so confident. At that moment I wanted to be a teacher's aid, only in college and of legal age.
"Yes, I want to major in it."
"What school are you going to?" he asked coming around to lean against his desk and crossing his arms and ankles casually.
"Um, NYU. I have a full scholarship." God I couldn't hold a damn conversation. I was shy, but not that shy.
"That's impressive. I lived in New York for a while. I went to City College for my degree."
I blushed at his compliment and bowed my head, hiding in my dark curtain of curls. When I looked back up he was staring at me. Not in a creepy way, but in a appraising way. That sent a ripple of a possibility that he could in some alternate universe like me.
But that moment was ruined when students stared filing in and the bell rang.
"Oh. Sorry Isabella. Let me write you a pass." He turned to scribble out an excuse on a slip of paper and handed it to me.
"Bella… I go by Bella."
He smiled and urged me to class.
I made my way through the empty halls without seeing into my second period, handing Mr. Banner my pass and sitting next to Alice. Crushing on my English 4 AP Honor teacher…
Reviews are better that Teaching Edward in black rimmed glasses!
