Belle's P.O.V.

The end of the summer was coming to a close, which meant it was time to get my classroom ready for the next year of students.

I'd been teaching at Villeneuve High School since I graduated college, which was now a little over 5 years ago. Principal Adam Beastly was proud of my work, and I was looking at being the Teacher of the Year this year.

While teaching, I had grown to have a few colleagues I was found of. There was Mr. Cadenza, the band teacher, and his wife, Mrs. Garderobe, the choir teacher; Mr. Cogsworth, the math teacher; Mrs. Potts, the home economics teacher (and she has a little 8-year-old boy named Chip whom I was very fond of – he's very sweet and silly); and Mr. Lumiere, the History teacher, and his girlfriend, Ms. Plumette, who was the head custodian. They were all very kind, respectful, and pleasant human beings.

I walked into the teacher's lounge for lunch, and sat down with Mrs. Potts, Mrs. Garderobe, and Ms. Plumette.

"Hello, Belle," Mrs. Potts greeted, smiling warmly at me. "How was your summer?"

"Very good, thank you," I smiled back, opening my lunchbox. "I did a lot of reading and writing, but I also helped Papa here and there with some of his painting jobs. How's Chip?"

"He's doing very well, thank you," she said. "He went to a two-week summer camp in June, and he had lots of fun. He still talks about it," she laughed.

"Have you talked to Mr. Beastly today?" Ms. Plumette asked me. She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "I heard someone is supposed to be up for the Teacher of the Year this year." I blushed and smiled, waving her words away with my hand.

"Not yet, but I planned on stopping in for a few on my way out today," I told them.

"Well, I think you will get it either way," Mrs. Garderobe said. "You deserve it, deary."

"You're all too kind." Just then, the men walked in – Mr. Cadenza, Mr. Cogsworth, and Mr. Lumiere. The respective ladies greeted their men with a kiss.

"Did I hear you all talking about the Teacher of the Year nominations?" Mr. Lumiere grinned, taking a seat next to Plumette.

"Yes you did," I said, rolling my eyes with a grin. "Everybody keeps talking about it."

"Well, you should go put in a good word with the new P.E. teachers," Mr. Cogsworth told me.

"New P.E. teachers?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, Mr. Beastly is interviewing the fellows now. I guess Coach Morgan and Garcia retired finally, so their positions were open. They're two young men, probably about your age, Belle."

"Really?"

"Oh, Belle, maybe one of them is cute!" Plumette giggled, winking at me. That was another thing they all never stopped talking about – my love life, or lack thereof.

I had to admit, being almost 27 and alone was, well, lonely. But I was also someone used to being on my own for most of my life. I had Papa, but it had always been Papa and me. He never remarried after my mother, nor dated. So I didn't have any half siblings, or step-siblings, or anything of that sort. But I'm getting off topic; the point was, I didn't need someone, but they thought I did.

"Well, one fellow was short and chubby," Mr. Lumiere explained. "But the other man was very handsome; tall, dark hair, a cleft in his chin…he was carrying an Army backpack." And that's when my heart stopped.

A cleft in his chin? And an Army backpack. Maybe it's not him, Belle, I told myself. It could be any good looking Army soldier with a cleft in his chin.

"An-an Army backpack?" I stuttered. "Did you see the name on it?"

"I think it was Thomas if I'm not mistaken," he replied.

Oh, shit.

"Excuse me," I said, standing up. I gathered my things and made a dash for Mr. Beastly's office.

He can't do this to me. Not now, not later, not ever! I thought as I hurried down the hall. Hopefully he's already left. Then I can convince Mr. Beastly he's not the right person for the job. Him or his damn best friend.

I hurried into the lobby, dashed past his secretary's desk, and barged into Mr. Beastly's office.

"Mr. Beastly, can I speak to you pl-" and then I stopped.

Sitting in the chair closest to the door in a polo shirt and slacks was Joshua LeFou. And next to him, in a button down shirt and slacks, sleeves rolled up, with a rose tattoo on his right forearm, was none other than who I was dreading it would be.

"Hello, Belle," Gaston said.

Dammit.