I stumble into English class like a zombie seeking caffeine. I've already had three cups of coffee this morning and it still isn't enough to banish this black cloud of fatigue hanging over my head. I sigh as I glance at the seating plan at the front of the room. It's not bad: I'm sat with Sting, my cousin, at the back of the class. I take my seat and dump my bags on the floor. I'm one of the first in. It's weird for me, I'm always late. I hear chattering and see Sting hand in hand with some black-haired newbie. I sigh, that kid is screwed. They see the seating plan and I can see Sting scowling. He makes his way to the seat next to mine and the black-haired newbie goes to sit with Natsu.
"Who's the newbie?" I ask, my voice sounding monotonous and tired. It doesn't worry him though, it's usually like that.
Sting looks around, making a big deal out of trying not to be heard.
"His name's Rogue and he's a total babe." He gushes in whispers, "He's really shy and cute and sweet and nice and-"
"Who you talking about?" Gray Fullbuster, who's on the next table, leans towards us, "Natsu?"
"No, Gray," Sting replies, "I am not talking about your boyfriend."
"Whose boyfriend?" Gajeel Redfox calls from the other side of the room,
"Someone has a boyfriend?" Natsu yells from his seat next to the newbie.
"Yes, Natsu, you." The others reply in unison. I rest my forehead on the table and the newbie must have smiled or something because the next minute Sting is attacking my shoulder and whispering,
"Oh my god did you see that? He's so freakin' cute!"
"You sure you're not talking about Natsu?" Gray's leaning over again and glaring at Sting.
"No, Gray, I'm not!" Sting begins to get aggressive. Gray does the same. I groan; I know exactly where this is going.
Sure enough, a fight ensues between Sting and Gray, and Natsu and Gajeel, being the violent bastards they are, join in too. Soon enough, it's a fight over who has the cutest significant other/love interest and if the newbie, Rogue I think it was, hasn't figured out that Sting wants to be inside him then he may as well be a potato waffle. An emo potato waffle.

The fight ensues for about five minutes before a man with long, emerald hair clad in crimson walks in as Gajeel yells,
"Oh yeah, fuckwits? I bet none of your guys are half as good as Levy in bed!" and flips a table. Everyone sits looking totally startled. The boys fighting continue oblivious. The newbie looks like he's about to faint. The man, who I presume is the new teacher, clears his throat. The fight carries on. I sigh. There's only one way to solve this: doing an Erza.
I get out of my seat and everyone's staring at me. I grab the four of them and smash their heads together.
"I'm sorry Erza please don't hurt meee!" They all start crying like little girls. They look up and see me. I point forward at the new teacher wearing a very stern look on his face and they absolutely crap their pants. We go back to our seats and the teacher fixes a smile on his face.
"Good morning class, my name is Mr. Justine, welcome to English. I trust you all had a nice summer." We sit there gaping. Was this guy blind? Did he not see the massive fight in his classroom? Mr. Justine sits down at his desk and logs in to his computer, opening his register. Before he starts, he adds as a side note,
"I'll deal with the five of you later. Cana?"
Cana answers her name. Mr. Justine works his way down the register, keeping his eye on the names on all those who were involved in the fight. Once the register has been taken, Mr. Justine makes his way to the front of the class and grabs a pile of blue exercise books.
"Okay! These books are yours. You can decorate them how you please and do what you like with them. Just don't burn or rip them, okay?"
"Yeah, Pyro!" Gajeel yells from across the room. The class laugh.
"Oh yeah, Metal Face? What are you gonna do? use it as a new toy and shove it up Levy's vagina?!"
A chorus of "Ooohh" came from around the room. I facepalm and look at the teacher to find that he's... amused? Sure enough, he looks like he's watching some kind of TV comedy. I smirk: this guy's pretty cool.
"Oh yeah, Firetard?" Gajeel retaliates, oblivious to the fact that he's in a classroom, "What are you gonna do? Shove it up Ice Boy's ass?!"
"More likely shove it up his own ass." Sting adds.
"No, I'd be the one shoving it up his ass!" Gray yells. I plant my head on the desk, just wanting this to end. It looks like Mr. Justine is about to intervene when there's a knock on the door. Mr. Justine beckons the person in and it's none other than Levy McGarden, Gajeel's long-term (andvery intimate) girlfriend. Everyone laughs and Levy looks uneasy. She would: until she got with Gajeel, she got a load of crap for being smart and reading books.
"U-Um can I get my coursework, please? My class was in here last year and I think it's still in the cabinet." She mutters.
Mr. Justine nods and Levy makes her way to the cabinet where her coursework is which happens to be just past Gajeel's desk. She grabs her folder and starts making her way out of the class, but as she passes Gajeel, he goes along and slaps her butt. Levy yelps and hurries out the class blushing. Gajeel looks like he's just won the lottery. Mr. Justine writes Gajeel's name on the board and says
"Save it for the bedroom, Gajeel."
Even I almost die laughing. Maybe English will be fun this year.
"Well class," he continues, "I think it's about time we got started, no?" The class quiets down and looks at Mr. Justine. He's made his impression, and everyone respects him. "So I can get to know you, and the quality of your writing, I would like you to write a description of yourself on the first page of your exercise book. You have fifteen minutes, and then I would like some of you to share."
I sigh as I look down at the book in front of me.
Who am I?
To be honest, I'm not really sure. Glancing around the room, I see everyone else has no problem writing away, especially Gray (the egotistical bastard). All I am is some kid with a messed up past. Sting leans back in his seat. He's done, by the looks of things. I touch my pen to the paper and write.

I don't know.

I put my pen down and look over Sting's book, but I can't quite see what he's written. The timer beeps and Mr. Justine stands back up, vibrant hair swishing around him. I don't get why I'm noticing it, I guess it's because the guy must take a hell of a lot of care of it: it takes Ever about six years to sort hers out and this is much longer and... nicer. It makes me want to run my fingers through it. But I did not just think that, because this guy is my teacher. My face flushes slightly and I hide it with my arms.
What's happening?
I scowl as the teacher asks somebody to read. Sting volunteers immediately and gets picked. He picks up his book and stands, even though he isn't asked to. He moves slowly, carefully, for maximum comedic effect. He gestures to the teacher, who gestures right back. Sting clears his throat.
"Hello." He starts, the class laugh. "My name is Sting Eucliffe, I'm fifteen years old and I'm very, very gay." The class absolutely lose their shit. Everyone is practically on the floor laughing. The new kid looks shell shocked, by the looks of things he came from a place where people aren't quite this open. Sting sits down, showing that that's all he's written. Mr. Justine pouts.
"Is that all?" He asks, eyeing Sting up with an inquisitive look. His eyes sparkle and he just seems... noticeable. Noticeable in a way that I've never found anyone before.
"Well yeah." Sting replies, "What else is there?"
Mr. Justine raises a slender eyebrow. "Well, Sting, by the looks of things you're a pretty confident guy, and you definitely have quite the sense of humour." The class is silent, awestruck by the teacher's impressive psychoanalysis but also acting... not like a teacher. "You said that you're fifteen but you never told me about your birthday. You said that you're gay but you never told me about your type. Do you have any siblings? Any hobbies or interests? Who are your friends, Sting; who are you?"
Everyone stares. Sting's mouth drops. This guy isn't like most teachers who would just yell. This guy's different.
"Okay," He carries on like nothing's happened, like this is perfectly normal, "Who wants to go next?" Nobody raises their hand. "Laxus?"
Everyone stares at me. I lean back in my seat and pick up my book.
"I don't know." I read out. Some kids laugh, others look at the teacher, anxious to see his response. He stays silent and studies me with those quizzical ocean eyes and again I find myself noticing him, but I have no idea why. The silence is deafening. Suddenly, the bell rings and everyone starts to pack away. Mr. Justine immediately switches back into teacher mode.
"Okay, have a good day, Laxus, Natsu, Sting and Gray you're all in detention this lunchtime; Gajeel, you're in after school on Thursday. Off you go."
As we leave English, I can't help but think that this guy is really something else. I step out the door and take one last look inside. Mr. Justine smiles and I feel my heart flutter. But why? I stride ahead, I need to get to Music, but this damn English teacher is the only thing on my mind.
What the hell is happening to me?