Chapter 6! Thank you again to all of my reviewers :) Loved and adored :)
He sat in his classroom, leaning back in his chair and casting his well practised gaze over the rows of students scribbling away at their pieces of paper. They were silent, with bowed heads, all of them looking innocent, as though they were thoroughly concentrating on their work.
He wasn't fooled though. Amongst them there would be at least one writing notes to his neighbour, or her neighbour. One would be slyly text-y-ing, or whatever it was, to another, and the another would be replying. But they looked like they were doing the work, which was the main thing. Which would be what counted tomorrow.
He thought back to what Rachel had said. The wonderful Rachel Mason. It quite baffled him how a shameful past like hers could have been accepted within the terrors that roamed this school. Maybe it was that they believed that she really was changing, and was changing the school. He didn't trust her though, but that was to be expected. He didn't trust anyone, beside Fleur.
Only she knew of his darkest secret, one which was only shown when he occasionally dozed off through the classes he had. One which he hated himself for having, one which made him feel weak. Although it was to be expected, he mused. Surely everyone must feel the same.
Someone knocked upon his classroom door. He hated it when people did that.
"What?" He asked, harshly, as he always did.
It was opened by Tom's girl, the one who was still at school. He had seen many students come and go between these walls, and could hardly remember any of their names, but he remembered hers. Chlo.
"Sorry, sir, but Mr Wilding was wondering whether we could use the laptops."
"They are in the cuboard," he said, pointing impatiently towards to back of the classroom. Now that he noticed, there was another girl with her, Steph's girl. Maxine. "And may I enquire as to what Mr Wilding needs them for."
"For our work, sir." said Maxine. She was looking at him, but there was something about the way she was looking at him which made him want to question her. Want to, but not act on. He couldn't be bothered.
He nodded his head, and the two girls made their way to the door at the back of the room. His class still watched them, all of them so young.
A deep pining urge rose inside him. He wanted to be like that. To be young again. That was his secret, the one which he tried to convince himself everyone else felt as well. He was scared. Of time. Of death.
He had died once. In a car accident more than two decades ago. It had only been for about 5 minutes, before the paramedics had brought him back, but it had been enough. He was terrified of it. He hated sleep, hated the precious moments it swallowed of his limited life. He had lost count of how many different ways he had tried to counter it, until Fleur had put her foot down. Mostly this was why he fell asleep in class. He tied so hard to stay awake at night, that he couldn't manage the days.
No one knew this, he pondered as the two girls made their way out of his classroom, pushing the laptop trolley before them. Not the best idea in a school like this.
The class was errupting into chatter again. He hated that.
"Shut up you lot!" he roared, standing up and slamming his hands palm down on the desk. They shut up.
The terror of teaching, they called him. Grantly snorted. More like terrified of teaching.
The thought only occurred to him as he sat back down again. What would they need laptops for in a music class?