"Hello class, my name is Mr. Anderson." Kurt shifted in his seat a little, stifling a wince as he pressed on a particularly sore spot. "When I say your name, please respond with either 'here' or 'present'." The teacher continued. Kurt tuned him out a little as he finally found a comfortable spot.

"David Karofsky?" Kurt shuddered at the name. He could almost feel the other boy glaring rays at him.

"Here." His tormentor said shortly. Kurt fought the urge to turn around and see if he actually was staring.

"Kurt Hummel?"

"Present." Kurt murmured, just loud enough to be heard, not taking his eyes off the binder and pencil case in front of him. Mr. Anderson stayed quiet a little longer than usual, so Kurt looked up discreetly, hoping he hadn't already done something to upset the new teacher.

But he didn't seem upset. In fact, Mr. Anderson was just staring at him with those deep, soulful brown eyes... Kurt bit his lip. What the hell had that been? He wasn't attracted to a teacher. That was just sick! He felt his eyes widen a little as Mr. Anderson straightened up slightly, staring right at him, like he knew what Kurt had just been thinking. The countertenor glued his eyes back to his desk and slumped down, wishing he could disappear. He heard Mr. Anderson clear his throat before he went back to his list, his bicep rippling as he clenched his grip slightly.

Stop it Kurt!

"Mercedes Jones?"

The class continued a little awkwardly as Mr. Anderson finished attendance and started talking about what they would be doing in the class this year.

"But for now," He said as he finished, "I've got something a little fun for you kids." He grinned deviously as he spun a roll of toilet paper on his index fingers.

"Are we gonna T.P. the choir room?" one of the jocks asked excitedly. Mr. Anderson frowned and shook his head disapprovingly.

"Everyone take a few pieces, as many as you want." Mr. Anderson encouraged, tossing the roll to a person in the first row. When it came around to him, Kurt took three, his lucky number, before passing it on.

"Alright." Mr. Anderson sat on the edge of his desk. "Now, for every piece of toilet paper you have, you're going to write something about yourself; a fun fact, a belief, what you did over summer, anything." A few people, mainly the jocks who had taken at least ten squares per person, groaned loudly. "Or I could assign a ten page essay." Mr. Anderson said flatly. They all shut up quickly. Kurt jotted down his things quickly before resting his head on his desk.

So there's both sides of the first encounter. If enough people want to read, I'll keep updating :)