Disclaimer: Still don't own anything. If I did I wouldn't have discontinued Midnight Sun, and Jake and Leah would have gotten together.
Chapter 2: Hot for teacher
Teacher don't you see?
Don't wanna be no uptown fool
Maybe I should go to hell
But I am doing well
Teacher needs to see me after school –
I think of all the education that I've missed
But then my homework was never quite like this!
Ow! Got it bad,
Got it bad,
Got it bad,
I'm hot for teacher!
I've got it bad, so bad
I'm hot for teacher!
Hot for teacher, Van Halen
(The student)
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP
Damn alarm clock.
I stretched my arm out to hit the snooze button and realized there was nothing there. I opened my eyes to see that I was not in my bedroom any more.
It took me a second to remember that I was in America now partly to visit my friend but mostly because the confines of Paris were starting to choke me to death. I had to escape.
The beeping sound turned out to be a smoke alarm. Shit, the girl was cooking.
I had to stop her.
I walked into the kitchen of my friend's apartment.
"Morning Tinkerbelle," she said way too cheerfully in spite of the ungodly hour, "I made breakfast." She pointed her spatula in the direction a plate of charred black square stones that kind of resembled waffles.
"That's alright," I tell her in my broken English, "I'll finish up."
I looked at the clock and sighed. I so did not want to wear a uniform.
That skirt showed way more leg than I was comfortable with. I come up with some lie or another at school.
I changed into a Metallica t-shirt and my magic jeans which were always good for confidence boost. I stroked the sharpie letters (I had tendency to write poetry on every surface clothes included) and I suddenly felt better.
I suppose the price of coming here was confessing to my friend that I was younger than I seemed. My punishment is the fact that if I stay here I have to go to high school so I enrolled at some nearby charter school.
I told myself to cheer up, who knows; maybe a new school would be fun. And for the weather forecast, it will be twenty below zero in hell today. Who was I kidding I was screwed and I knew it.
***
"Here you go dear, I hope enjoy your first day at St. Mark's" a middle aged woman at the attendance office handed me a schedule.
Apparently I had already missed homeroom so I went straight to first period, Biology with a teacher named Banner. Ugh, I hate science.
Come on, time to get the cruel and usually punishment over with. You don't want to keep the tormentor waiting.
***
Okay, it was official; there was something worse than biology, talkative, bitchy, American Blondes. As luck would have it there was one sitting in the desk next to mine. When she wasn't being a bitch to the teacher and making it slightly difficult to get anything out of the lesson, she would talk to me, making it down right impossible to learn anything. And yet as much as taking biology makes me feel sorry for myself, I think I felt even worse for the teacher, poor man has had to deal with bitchy Jessica longer than I had.
Riiiiiiing.
I had hoped to get out without having to talk to her anymore. But of course miss bitch decided to stick to me like glue. I knew immediately she was kind of person to stick with the new kid for no other reason than a popularity boost
"So what's your next class?" She asked. Hopefully not with you.
"I have art with a teacher named Cullen. maintenant avoir des objections vos propres Fichues affaires."
"OHMYGOD!" she squealed, "You are so lucky. He is so hot." Uh, Eww, what kind of sicko thinks teachers are attractive? More importantly, who uses the word hot? What a ditz, I bet she listens to Hanna Montana too. "Tell me what you think at lunch."
Whatever.
***
The teacher was nothing like I expected. He was surprisingly young; he had to be about ten years older than me maybe not even that. It was clear he didn't see me enter the classroom. He just sat in front of his computer with a resigned look on his face and stroking his cheek absent mindedly before running a hand through his copper colored hair.
I got his attention by apologizing to him rapidly using a good portion of my English.
He looked up at me and I felt my breath hitch. His face belonged in a Calvin Klein ad. The blonde bitch had a point, he was definitely attractive or he would be if his skin wasn't such a sickly pale. His eye were greener than anything I'd ever seen before the closest color I'd to them would be fresh grass or maybe antifreeze. I'm mean they where an Oh-my-God-those-are-too-green-to-not-be-contacts green. But I had a feeling they were real, after all he wasn't the only one with a strange eye color. In spit of the fact that both my parents had blue eyes mine were Topaz.
Go figure.
"Take a seat we're doing free drawing so you can just doodle today if you want." He told me.
I was so absorbed by the color of his eyes that I barely listened to him; I just complied with his request.
I doodled absent mindedly for a while but as with everything I had to write a poem on the side of the paper. Not a very long one but it unintentionally gave insight to my thoughts.
As my pencil spun a graphite web, I found myself wishing my body's reactions were as controllable a writing implement.
I know Charlie has brown eyes in the book but just go with it, please. Same thing goes for Bella, besides her eyes are topaz by the end of Breaking Dawn. Trust me I'm going somewhere with that. p.s. sorry to all you hanna montana fans for the slight, but it was nessesssary
You know what to do
You know you want to
Just press that little button down there.
I promise it won't bite.
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