Chapter 4

On Thursdays, I get the half day off. After checking that my work for the day had been done, I rushed outside in the blazing afternoon sun. I took the subway to Brooklyn and got off just outside Brooklyn Museum. From there I started walking. I walked for about fifteen minutes till I reached my destination.

I stood outside the main gate of Queen Victoria Child Care Orphanage, and as usual, heaved a great sigh. This place always makes me feel miserable. Yet, there I was visiting the place every week, because it made me feel humble. This place and the kids living in it made me realise that we should never take what we have in life for granted. These kids have nothing in their life and it makes me acknowledge the fact how much blessed I am. Thus I decided to spend one day of my week coming here and spending some quality time with the kids. I will be teaching them stuffs like Maths, English and moral lessons. Just last week I signed up here as a volunteer. No one would believe me, but the fact that I will be able to lessen the amount of someone's pain, gives me great satisfaction. That's why I intend to keep this visit of mine a secret – only my family knows about it.

I pushed the gate open, showed my ID to the security guard and entered the building. I walked the long corridor and passed the class-rooms along it, until I reached the last one at the end of the passage. I entered Sister Charlotte's room and found her sitting at the desk.

'Hello Sister,' I said pleasantly.

Sister Charlotte nodded.

That was Sister Charlotte. She is a strict, no-nonsense head in-charge, who loved the kids in the orphanage as her own children, but that doesn't stop her from being hard on them once in a while if they do something wrong.

'Since it's your first day, a proper routine hasn't been set up for you. So meanwhile you'll be teaching during the time-slot of another teacher's class schedule.'

'Are you sure, he/she wouldn't mind?' I asked tentatively.

'I'll take care of that,' was her short reply.

The classroom was quite big and there were at least thirty benches with around sixty students sitting on them. The room was pleasant enough. Sister Charlotte might be a cold person, but she was considerate enough when it came to these kids. The room was painted with bright colours like blue and yellow. The walls were covered with drawings done by the children. Even the tables and chairs were painted in warm green and red.

The children greeted me whole-heartedly. I asked their names one by one, and introduced myself. I told them it'll take me a while to get to know all of their names, but eventually I will. I thought since it was my first day as their teacher, I'd go easy on them. So I asked each one of them what their hobbies were, what they liked to eat and what their favourite sports were. One of the kids, Jesse, a 9-year-old bright youngster, was very excited about this part and started talking about football and Beckham, very enthusiastically. I nodded in response now and then because I was more familiar with Victoria's fashion sense than her husband's football skills.

Suddenly I realised that if Sister Charlotte happens to pass by right now, she'd see me chatting with the kids, and might think I'm not taking my job seriously. So I got up, walked to the white-board hung on the wall, and told the children that I'd be teaching them about fractions. Just as I plunged into my explanation of whole numbers, someone was at the door.

It was strange that I was able to tell that person's presence, even though I had my back to the class-room as well as the door in question. But I could feel someone being there, which was bizarre for me, because I'm not psychic and I barely notice what's going on around me, let alone what's going on behind me. I later realised that I was able to tell his presence because there was a significant smell wafting from him – and it was not completely of men's cologne. It was more personal. Until that moment, I had no idea what people meant by other people having their own smell.

Next, a gentle but firm voice spoke up. 'Excuse me? What do you think you're doing in my class?'

I turned at these words and was met with a gaze so powerful and sharp, that my stomach lurched, like it does when I am hungry. I don't mean to sound dramatic and all mushy, but at that moment, it truly felt like there were only the two of us in this whole wide world – him looking at me with annoyed and somewhat angry eyes while I kept gaping at him like an idiot.

He was really tall, his head almost touching the door-frame above his head. I guessed that he was probably either in his late 20s or early 30s. He had bronze hair, which stuck out at different angles, gave him a boyish look in his otherwise masculine features. His eyes, that were scrutinizing my face so intently, it made me shudder, were a lovely bottle-green colour. He wore dark blue jeans and a plain white shirt whose full-sleeves were rolled up to his arms and his left hand was closed around a football, holding it firmly, against his left leg.

All of a sudden, I realised he had asked me something. I didn't know what to say, but luckily Jesse came to my rescue and rushed up to the inquirer.

'Look, we've made a new friend. She knows about Beckham, isn't that cool?'

At this, he looked up at me with those hard, questioning eyes. To my utter surprise, at the next moment, when he looked down at Jesse, who barely came up to his knees, his expression changed instantly. The irritated or rather cruel expression reserved for me was gone. Instead, his face softened and he gave the kid a kind look and a smile so wide that creased his eyes and it seemed like it was lighting up the room.

'That's all very good, buddy, but aren't you supposed to be out in the field right now?'

This was when I cleared my throat and went forward to give an explanation.

'That's where I come in. Hi, I'm their new Math and English teacher.'

'Okay. Forgive me if I'm being rude, but why are taking your class during my practice session?'

'Well, Sister Charlotte said..' I began.

'Look, you're being mistaken. I get it; you are new and need time to get used to things. But that's not an excuse to jump into someone else's schedule,' he replied curtly.

'Who's going to jump when and where, that's my decision to make, Mr. Cullen.'

We both looked up as Sister Charlotte entered the room.

'Sister…' he began saying, but was cut-off by the Sister, as she held up a hand to interrupt.

'Students, that will be all for today. You can go outside and play. As for you two,' she pointed at the two of us, 'You will have to accompany me to my office, right now!' It seemed to me like she was glaring at Mr. Cullen.

As soon as the three of us stepped inside her office, Sister Charlotte banged the door shut.

Then she pounced.

'What were you thinking when you barge into that room, disrupting a class and on top of that asking the teacher present for an explanation; who by the way happens to be new in here?' What kind of example are you setting for the students, Mr. Cullen? They look up to you as their mentor,' she finished.

He looked at the Sister's face for an entire minute with that cold hard expression on his beautiful face, before finally dropping his gaze.

'I'm sorry Sister. That was very unprofessional of me. It's just that the kids always seemed to enjoy their football games. Thus when I saw they weren't there, I thought they have stopped playing for some reason. I was upset when I saw that while I was waiting for them outside in the scorching heat, they were being taught improper fractions.'

'You should have come directly to me. And as I said before, it was my mistake for not notifying you from before-hand,' Sister Charlotte admitted.

He said nothing.

The Sister went on, 'Now if you would let me, I'd like to introduce our new teacher, Ms. Bella Swan.'

He just nodded curtly as a response.

'Ms. Swan, meet our football coach, Mr. Edward Cullen.'

He turned to look at me this time, and I smiled weakly.

'Well, now that the introductions are over, Ms. Swan can go back to the class, or what's left of it anyway, while Mr. Cullen is to stay here while I find a suitable time slot for the kid's football practice,' Sister Charlotte muttered as she settled on to her chair and perched her glasses on her tiny nose and began shuffling some papers.

I practically fled out of the room like my life depended on it.