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The day was underway at Lincoln High, and it seemed as if we'd had no break at all. I slipped back into my routine like it was a comfy pair of slippers. My first class after lunch was English. I knew we had a new teacher as our previous one, Mrs. Donovan, had left to have a baby and wasn't coming back. It was annoying to change teachers at this stage in our education. I wanted to study as much English as I could and worried that if I didn't like the new teacher, it might affect my grades. Larissa started gossiping to me about something or other she'd heard on campus so I heard the door open but I didn't see who came through it.
I guess I should have known by the fact that the entire female population of the class went silent, that a hot male had walked through the door before I turned around.
But when I did, holy hell!
A gray jacket, gray pants, and a crisp, white shirt encased the body of a god. He was lean but athletic. As he moved to place his laptop case on the desk at the front of the classroom, his jacket gaped open showing the shirt stretched against his chest. You could make out his pecs, and I knew just from that brief look that he worked out, whether it was the gym he visited or regular sports he played. His light brown hair was short but sculpted with paste at the top of his head. I didn’t fail to notice that he was built like the heroes of my romance novels. I felt my body warm up by a billion degrees and I swept my bangs out of my face to try and cool myself down a little.
"Holy crap, he's gorgeous. I'm up for studying if the subject is the teacher." Larissa whispered directly into my ear.
"Sshh," I warned her; she was in danger of being a little too loud.
The godlike creature spoke.
"Hey there, I'm Mr. Newell, and I'm your new English Teacher."
His voice was deep and husky; he should have been paid to narrate commercials, not be stuck in high school with a bunch of awkward teenagers.
It was a few minutes later when Larissa prodded me in the arm.
"Hey, what's that for?" I asked her.
"She's called Candy," Larissa said.
"Candy," He looked at his register, "Ah yes, Candy Appleton. Candy, we were just all introducing ourselves, so I could get to know you a little, so if you're not too busy daydreaming, perhaps you could tell me a bit about yourself."
I flushed what must have been a deep shade of pink. I'd been so busy mooning over the hot, new teacher and thinking about him in a scene from the book I'd read last night that I'd had no clue that he had carried on addressing the class and started introductions. Disappearing into a world of my imagination was a bad habit of mine. Whe
n I had been younger, I had been known to be so engrossed in books that I had not had a clue as to what was happening in my current surroundings. Larissa once left me alone with a book because I had blissed out on words in the school library and I hadn't noticed she had gone until my cell had buzzed thirty minutes later. I was a lost cause to literature, and now it seemed a lost cause to lusting after sexy new male teachers.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Newell. I didn't sleep well, and I must have drifted a little." I lied. "My name is Candy Appleton. Erm, what else did you want to know?"
"Your favorite subject and what you hoped to do after graduation." His lip was in a firm line, and I didn't know if he was upset with me or amused.
"My favorite subject is English. I love literature, and I hope to become an English teacher." I told him truthfully, hoping he didn’t think I was making it up in order to appease him for my daydreaming.
"Well, in that case, maybe you need to make sure you get enough sleep for future lessons so you can achieve your dreams." He replied, and then he moved onto the next student.
I felt like he'd physically slapped me. I was a great student with no problems in English, and before today I didn't remember ever being scolded by a teacher. Larissa was the one who got pulled up in lessons as she continually sneaked peeks at her cell to see if Jeff had messaged her.
For the rest of the class, I made sure to keep my head down. I listened to what he said to the class, but I tried to avoid eye contact with him. If I thought he was about to look my way or if he did, I quickly averted my gaze. Great. My favorite lesson was now going to become the one I dreaded most. Then I almost physically groaned. I needed to speak to him after class to see if he knew anyone who could give me extra tutoring when all I wanted was to bolt from the classroom.
The bell sounded, and everyone packed their belongings away and began to leave. I hovered around Mr. Newell's desk as another three female students had got there first. They were asking ridiculous questions, and I knew they were doing it just to try to get his attention. I could see Brandy Elliott side-eying me as if to tell me to get lost.
Finally, they left, and it was just him and me.
"Miss Appleton. How can I help you?" He tilted his head to the side.
In class, the teachers called us by our first names, so I felt I was being reprimanded once again with the formal use of my last name.
"I'm looking for some extra tutoring this term to improve my grades for college. I wondered if you knew anyone. I appreciate you just got here and so you might not have any information for me right now, but I would be grateful if you could look into it for me. Mainly I'd like to focus some more on film and literature."
"Right. Anything in particular? The romantic poets like Wordsworth and Keats for example?"
I looked up at him for the first proper time all lesson. His face bore no hint of a smile or the friendliness with which he'd addressed the class. Rather, he looked irritated.
"I'd like to look at developing screenplays in particular and anything about character development. I'm hoping to write a novel someday." It was the first time I'd voiced that out loud to anyone, but this man's acerbic manner had got to me. What had I done to warrant it? I'd only day dreamed a little in class.
He rubbed his forehead.
