I owe nothing but plot.
xxx
Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to arrive at school a little too early before class starts but being early is a good thing, no? Arthur shivered, pulling his long, brown coat closer up to shield his neck from the cold. Summer vacation had ended; it was one of those strangely cold mornings. Quiet as possible, he pushed the gate open just enough for his body to fit through.
The heels of his Oxfords tapped noisily against the pavement, going past the main entrance, through the many halls and passed many closed doors until he reached the inner ground and his steps were finally silenced by the grass carpeted field. Arthur's lips dropped into a deep frown, he grumbled in annoyance; the bottom of his pants was damped when they brushed against morning dew, dying the brown fabric just a few shades darker. Oh well, at least they will dry before class starts. He did not linger any further, there was nothing interesting about the mist covered, empty courtyard. Besides, he didn't want to soil his precious shoes.
The interior of the World Academy was just as grand as the exterior of the building, although one could get tired of seeing the white walls if it weren't for the colourful paintings displayed. Under the brownish frames were small silver plates with the title of the painting and the name of the artist imprinted on them. Arthur noted some with classes and years under the names and assumed that they were done by students from this very school. Impressive, isn't it?
Yes, of course. It was a school for the rich and the best.
And he will be teaching here starting today. Joy.
It wasn't that Arthur didn't enjoy his job, it is fun, you could say, but being a teacher wasn't exactly a piece of cake. Far from it! Day after day from morning until night fall, he felt like there isn't any time left for himself after going through stacks of homework and paperwork. Not to mention the endless complaints from parents regarding their children's grade and bad behaviour. Hey, it's not his job teach the good manners! Well, not entirely, but still… they could be a tad bit kinder about it.
Kids these days are simply spoilt rotten.
Arthur sighed.
Soon he found himself standing outside classroom 5-B, staring back at his reflection on the door. He gave a half-hearted smiled which, of course, his reflection returned. He straightens his tie, pushing up the glasses on the bridge of his nose. His dress shirt all buttoned up and wild, blond hair as slid back as possible with gel. Arthur always made sure he looked presentable in front of his students or anyone else in general.
Arthur coughed into his fist, "Hello," the reflection moved its' lips in sync, "welcome to AP English, my name is Arthur Kirkland. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance; I hope we will be able to get along." Short and simple, that is how he would introduce himself. Arthur only hoped that he would not be needing to answer any unnecessary questions.
The door creaked open ("Bloody hell, someone better fix that!"), revealing an average size classroom with a ridiculously large black board up front and a notice board at the back. Next to his desk (his desk!) was a bin full of crumpled paper and empty food wrappers. Arthur's face curled up is disgust. Did no one bothered to clean the classroom at all once the holiday started? The students' desks and chairs were uneven and messy; the small pots of plates atop had long wilted and furthermore, someone had even forgotten his homework!
However still, he reminded himself that this is high school. He was a high school student once not long ago. Hell, he was even the student council president! Back in the days the Briton would bark at anyone who dared opposed his rules. He would have done all the work himself, wanting nothing but perfection which he believe, could only be done so if he did it by himself. Over the years he had learn to cooperate with others but Arthur still preferred to work alone at times.
A rare smile ghosted across his lips at the nostalgia. Arthur shrugged out of his coat, neatly draping it over his chair. His fingers twitched and he immediately started picking up the trash, tossing them into the too-full rubbish bin and rearranged all the desks.
What a great way to start the school year.
It didn't take long to finish cleaning, surprisingly. Arthur found an unused rubbish bag in one of the drawers and separated the trash into two bags and tied them up. His eyes stopped onto the bookshelf at the corner of the room for a few seconds before exiting the room, placing down one of the bags to close the door before picking it up again. He would love to go through the books of those shelves sometimes.
He quickly disposed the bags in the bigger rubbish bin next to the track field and washed his hands at the hand washing area.
It has gotten warmer, albeit still rather early but there were a decent number of students lingering around the grounds. He will have just enough time to break the ice in the office if he head back now. Unfortunately, fate had something else planned for him.
It took him by surprise, Arthur let out a short gasp for air, going into panic when water of all things was suddenly dumped onto his head, getting into his eyes and nose. The lights were blocked from his eyes and there was a late warning of "Watch out!" from above followed by the sound of footsteps shuffling away. When he was calmed enough to think, cusses and coughs slipped from his lips.
Just when he thought the culprit had ran, the object on his head was removed by someone. Arthur grumbled and rubbed his eyes, meeting a pair of worried green eyes. The man started to sprout words in an unknown language (Spanish, most likely) to Arthur, the bucket tucked between his arm and hip while his other hand was dapping at the Englishman's ruined blazer with a handkerchief.
"S-Stop. Stop!" coughed Arthur, wiping away his bangs from his eyes. "I don't understand a bloody thing you are saying!"
The man paused and blinked, frowning as he pulled his hand away. He unzipped the red track jacket he wore and held it out for Arthur, leaving him in a tee with the school emblem and track bottoms. "Dios mío! I'm so sorry! I was cleaning the windows a floor above and accidentally knocked the bucket over. I didn't know there was somebody down here, are you alright, amigo?"
"No!" he growled, snatching the article of clothing with an obviously annoyed expression. "I'm wet, for goodness sake! How am I going to show myself in front of class now?"
"I apologize, friend, you must be the new teacher, si? No wonder I don't recognize you," he ran a hand through that brown hair of his, fluffing out the curly locks that made Arthur jealous without even trying.
("How the hell do they looked so damn soft?!")
His own were wild and spiky, an untamed beast that has become an everyday challenge for him. His hair took hours to set, and they must be ruined now.
("All that effort for nothing!")
"Anyway, my name is Antonio Carriedo Fernandez. I am a gym teacher here. I'll let you use the locker room for a shower, sound good, yeah?"
"What about my clothes? I can't walk around with them like this." Arthur groaned inwardly, trading the drenched blazer for Antonio's jacket. His long fingers wrapped themselves around the wet clothing, wrinkling the water out. The Spaniard smiled and patted his shoulder.
"Do not worry, friend, I think I can solve that problem with no trouble. Do you need directions to the locker room?"
Thus Arthur accepted the offer gratefully, making a mental map. Arthur wasn't one to get lost easily but heck; the academy was just so bloody huge! To think that it wasn't far from their current location was a grave mistake, the English teacher spent the past fifteen minutes or so wandering around, desperately wanting to get out of the questioning eyes. Arthur clicked his tongue in annoyance and quickens his pace until finally, finally, he found the damned locker room!
He stood on the other side of the brownish red door. He was shaking, he was cold. And a hot shower sounds about food right now. Arthur hugged himself and rubbed his hands together for a bit of warmth, hand gripping on the knob and twisted it open.
How rude of him to have forgotten to knock.
xxx
Hey, so yeah, this is my first story to let out my sexual frustration but I decided to make it into a plot or something. I don't have a beta and English ain't my mother tongue so pardon my grammar or vocabulary mistakes. I've never been to NY or the US and the school system in Asia is so much different… please kindly point out the mistakes for me, yeah? I hoped you enjoyed, thanks for reading!