Forty-five minutes into the class, and Sam was not as reassured as he had been half an hour ago. Mr. Milton was now up to Sarah Laugherty, which normally wouldn't have been a big deal, except that while there were a lot of students in this class, there were only three other students between her and Sam's last names. He started to squirm uncomfortably as he listened with apprehension as one-by-one each student answered Mr. Milton's questions.
Sam considered his options. He could slip out before his name was called, or he could simply refuse to answer the older man. Both, he was sure would end up with him in detention. Sam, however, did neither.
"Samuel Winchester!" The blonde man announced his voice cheerful as he scanned the classroom.
Sam froze in place, frightened, as his classmates slowly turned around to look at him. Chuck Shurley, a quiet kid Sam would sometimes sit with at lunch, kicked the back of his chair, forcing him to answer.
"Uh! Here." Sam replied, cringing as his voice cracked. He was sweating bullets at this point, starting to shake as the professor looked over to him.
"Ah! There we are!" Came the kind reply, "What can you tell us about yourself, Sam?"
With wide eyes, Sam stared at the man. Eyes pleading with him while he mentally begged, over and over again, Leave me alone. Please move on. Of course, Mr. Milton did not pick up on Sam's uneasiness. He wasn't getting the hint, so with defeat Sam tried to perform a coherent sentence, let alone thought.
He stuttered, searching for words, "Uhm... Uh..."
"Spit it out, dummy!" A shout came from the back, easily recognized as Gordon.
"Mr. Walker! I'm going to love seeing you in detention! My desks and chairs could do for a nice cleaning." Mr. Milton smirked sarcastically at the other boy, before turning his attention back to Sam. "As you were saying, Sam?"
He liked the sound of his name escaping from the other man's lips. Amongst Gordon's angry grumbling, Sam searched for what to say. Gathering what courage he could muster, he answered, "Uhm... I'm Sam."
Snickers erupted throughout the classroom, before Mr. Milton shushed them, "Yes?"
"I uh... I'm seventeen. I like to read, and I am going to be pursuing a career as a lawyer." He breathed out in relief, glad to have it over with. Though, he inwardly cringed at how empty his answer had sounded.
Mr. Milton smiled anyways, and turned to address the rest of the class, "Well! I believe that wraps up our first class!" Returning to his desk, he sat down before uttering, "Class dismissed."
Students, glad to be leaving early, excitedly scooped up their books, shuffling out of the room as fast as they could. Sam, not a fan of crowds, hesitated waiting for the rest of his class to get out the door, before heading for it himself. As he reached the door, he stopped at the sound of his name. Turning around, he looked over to Mr. Milton.
Fidgeting, he curiously made his way over to the teacher's desk. "Yes, sir?"
Laughing, the older man reassured Sam, "Don't worry, bud. You're not in trouble. I promise. And don't call me sir, I always hated that." Chuckling, he continued, "I figured I should make it my mission to have a few words with my star student. "
Sam blushed, flattered. The blood slowly colouring his cheeks.
"It surprises me that someone with your talent is pursuing a career in something as drab as law. No offense, but you just didn't seem all that enthusiastic about it. Why is that?"
He peered on curiously, awaiting an answer.
Sam swallowed the lump settling in his throat down to the best of his ability, answering, "It's part of the family business. It's what everyone in the family does. It's what I'm expected to do." He shuffled his feet shyly, looking up; he was surprised to see a disapproving look crossing over the older man's face.
Now that he was closer to him, he could see why the older man had mesmerized him. He was so wrong. This man wasn't ordinary. He had lips that seemed to sit comfortably in a mischievous smirk, and warm, honey gold eyes that Sam could stare into forever. There was warmth, kindness, and acceptance clearly imbedded there.
Sam was startled out of his trance as he felt a warm hand touch his. He was pulled from his thoughts, when the phrase, "Are you alright? Did you hear what I said, Sam?"
Shocked, he pulled his hand away, clearing his throat, nodding lamely.
Chuckling slightly, Mr. Milton repeated himself, "What I said was that you should do what you love. What will make you happy. You should never rely on others opinions, and expectations. Make your own future."
"Oh. Okay, I will." Sam replied quietly.
"Good." Golden eyes twinkled, "What would you do if you didn't have to worry of the expectations of others?"
Sam stared at the other man, trying to find words, "I uh... guess I've never really thought about it. I suppose I would like to become an author. Write novels and poems, I guess." He blushed, hoping his answer didn't sound stupid.
"Then you should do that." The shorter man advised.
"Oh." Sam was dumbfounded, but seeing the other man awaiting an answer, he replied, "Okay."
Mr. Milton smiled warmly, causing Sam's belly to turn happily, "Okay! Now you better get to your next class. You wouldn't want to be late." He gave Sam a quick wink, then proceeded to turn back to the papers of his desk.
Nodding lamely to himself, Sam turned away, leaving the other man in the empty classroom.