A Different Colour Every Day (Teacher/Student)

The Smirks

4th November 2012

My friend and I stand outside our Maths classroom, awaiting the arrival of our teacher. My heart thumped in anticipation, forcing me to take deep breaths.

"Maybe Mr. Duffy isn't in today," Helen says, glancing around.

"Hopefully," I cross my fingers, not exactly wanting to go to Maths. 

Helen and I are standing beside each other, perpendicular to the classroom door, with our backs to the corridor. Our class were joking and messing around, also awaiting the arrival of Mr. Duffy.

I checked my watch - 11:21am.

He is six minutes late. I begin to contemplate going to study since there is no teacher to supervise us.

"Maybe we should go to study," I twist my lips thoughtfully.

"We'll give it another few minutes,"

"Alright." I say, before being abruptly cut off by somebody pulling the handle on my bag.

I squeak unattractively as the force pulls me backwards. I do a 360 turn, and see the love of my life, smirking down at me.

"W-what was that for?" Is all I can manage to stutter through my nerves and complete shock.

He fiddles with his keys at the door of the vacant classroom, still smirking down at me. He turns his head to our joking class, "Guys, shh, there's classes on."

I hear a squealing noise beside me and glimpse to where it's coming from, still in utter shock and surprise. Helen's face is a picture of also surprise and excitement, "Why did he pull your bag?!"

I shrug, trying to act non-chalant on the outside, following our class into the room. My insides are bubbling with joy and absolute pleasure.

'Get over it, you freak!' I think to myself.

"Dude, he totally pulled your bag then!" She repeats, trying to keep her voice low.

I smile smugly at her before taking a seat at the front of the classroom beside Cheese.

She leans in casually and whispers, "Why is Helen making rat noises at you?"

I giggle slightly, taking my books out my bag, "Because he pulled my bag before coming into class," My heart races at the thought of him doing it.

'No, it isn't a thought, it's a memory, he really did do it!' I think, grinning like a freak inside.

"Creep..." She mumbles, frowning bemused at me.

My breathing is erratic at the sheer excitement of having him supervise our class for the first time since last year. Sounds stupid and over the top, but the feeling that he's here is utterly amazing. My love for this man is completely unconditional and overwhelming.

'The love that lasts the longest is the love that can never be.' I think. 

But it can be, it really can. You just have to have that courage and urge to fight through the obstacles of everything before you. Love over rules everything, remember.

"He's making us do maths," Cheese rolls her eyes at his orders which I completely missed because I was stuck in my own world. "I thought he might let us get some homework done since our real Maths teacher isn't even in." She continues, slightly irritated.

I swap my books for maths ones out of my bag and place my log tables and calculator neatly on the desk.

"I heard you're doing intergers in maths, right?" He dominantly speaks over the class.

He still has the same control over the class that he previously held for three years.

I sigh contentedly and let myself drift off into a world of him and I. If only...

Suddenly, I'm snapped from my daze as his hand picks up my log tables from my desk and holds them up between him and the white board.

'He took my log tables... mine...' I think, my my heart rate increasing rapidly.

I try to cover up an elated smile, replaying the thought over and over. My insides are once again bubbling with sheer joy

'So firstly, he pulls my bag from behind and now he takes my log tables?' I think to myself, thoughts racing, memories resurfacing.

He flicks through a few pages before finding the correct formula, "Someone has stars around it." He jokes, but without any laughter. Only a slight smirk plays on his lips.

Then, I realize he's talking about me. I blush deeply and sink down into my chair, overly embarrassed. I tend to highlight or put stars around important formulae so I can spot them easily.

Cheese nudges me teasingly and I shoot her a warning glare, my face still over heated. I eye his perfectly muscled body from the back, he can't see as he's turned to the board, finishing off an equation.

His red jumper fits him flawlessly, defining his muscled shoulder blades and his broad, masculine shoulders. I inwardly gasp at his absolute perfection.

In my eyes, anyway. And every other girls eye's in the school.

When he's finished writing the formula and completing the equation he sets the log tables back on my desk without another word, glance or expression.

My heart races, 'He so hates you.'

I'm constantly having arguments in my mind over whether he loves me or hates me. He certainly knows how to keep a girl tightly on a string.

Subsequent to that embarrassing comment that grabs my attention, it's utterly uneventful and once again, I sink back into lala-land with cushioning thoughts of him.

It's my pathetic fantasy, and my pathetic little fantasy only.