Okay guys, here we go! This is a Sherlock Teacher AU.
"Now class."
The teacher of a senior year physics class stands at the front of the room, a tall stack of tests sitting neatly on his desk. His cool eyes scan the faces of his students with a disconnected composure. He stands straight, with his hands clasped behind his back.
"I'm sure by now the news of you all failing your last test won't be much of a surprise."
A wave of sighs and groans rolls towards the front of the room. Mixed remarks about the teacher being anal about minor details and having a broom shoved somewhere completely impractical join in. A girl sitting at the front of the class appears to be trying really hard not to cry, and the boy beside her exclaims that he'd study the entire week prior.
"Mr. Anderson you clearly weren't studying the proper material." He says to the boy as he hands him his test. The boy glares at him and looks at the fat, red 39% inked on the corner of his test. The teacher continues his way down the isle of desks, handing each student their test. By the time he's finished just about every student in his class either looks as though they just received news that a family member had died or were in serious need of intoxication. Of course, everyone except for the one student who passed.
"Fortunately for you lot, teachers at this school are not allowed to fail more than 5% of their class." He says flatly as he returns to his desk.
"You'll all be rewriting the test tomorrow morning. All of you apart from Ms. Hooper of course." She seems to be the only competent one among this lot. He adds to himself as he glances at the girl inhabiting the desk right in front of his own. Ms. Hooper blushes profoundly and twirls a piece of hair in between her fingers. Physically, the teacher thought that she may not be the most appealing girl to other boys her age ( or girls, he wasn't quite sure where she sat in that spectrum ) however, she did have a functioning brain. Which was much more than any of the other scantily dressed girls in his class had.
"So do yourselves a favor and study. Don't make me go through the trouble of sending out emails to your parents. Now, leave." His hand flicks dismissively. There was still another twenty minutes before the dismissal bell would ring, but he couldn't bare to look at those supposed 'young-adults' a moment longer. Out of all the jobs he'd ever had, being a high school teacher was probably the most taxing.
There were so many rules you had to follow. You can't call the kids idiots, you can't fail them, you can't send them to the office more than three times a week or you'll get into trouble. You certainly cannot voice assumptions on why select female students were acting particularly catty that week and it was frowned upon when you deducted a students' life story from their habits and quirks. It was rather hard for him to get along in a high school, much like it had been when he was actually a student, but he was somehow managing. Or at least, he had for the past three months.
The small clattering of a pencil made him look up from his desk. Ms. Hooper had just risen from her seat. The other students had left some while ago. That isn't much of a surprise. He thought, she is rather awkward.
"M-Mr. Holmes." She stuttered as she fidgeted with the strap of her knapsack.
"Yes Ms. Hooper?" He replied, looking back at his desk where a pile of reports sat, waiting to be graded.
"May I rewrite the test tomorrow?" Her voice was quiet, and by her stance he could tell that she wasn't looking directly at him.
"There's no need for that Ms. Hooper, you're literally the only one who passed. With quite a decent mark, in fact." He picked up his pen and popped off the cap.
"Oh. Well, yes. I know that. It's just that everyone else will be rewriting it anyways, and I'm sure I could get a higher grade if I applied myself more."
"If that's what you want Ms. Hooper." He says flatly, glancing up at her. As he does so, she looks down at her shoes bashfully and bites her lip.
"Thank you Mr. Holmes." She says quietly and turns towards the door.
Mr. Holmes scribbles absently on the corner of a test to get the ink in his pen flowing.
"Have a good day Mr. Holmes."
"I'm going to see you in a period from now, Ms. Hooper." Why does she always insist on making this petty small talk.
"I, I know." She says quietly and pauses, as though she has more to say.
"What is it?" He sets down his pen, trying not to sound frustrated. He made an effort not to be too short with Molly ever since the first day, when he had made her run out of the class crying.
She stood there for a moment longer, then shook her head.
"Nothing Mr. Holmes."
What do you guys think so far?
