Catch Me If You Can [Student/Teacher]

Hey guys! So, I was sitting here. On the dinosaur of a desktop that I own, and I was like, "Huh, I should upload today." It was just one of those moods. I don't know! It just happens. You know, I'm worried about my Wattpad addiction. I think we'll all have to go to therapy. "Hi, I'm Aly, and I'm addicted to Wattpadding." ~"Hi, Aly!" Rebecca, Chase, Bryan, and Nate can all come too ;)
Enjoy this horribly long chapter!
xoxo
Aly
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Chapter 12

          "Still dressing like a boy, Ms. Daniels?" Was Mr. Kingsley's first comment as soon as Nate and I arrived into the classroom.
          A few people snickered, though when I snapped my head to scour the heads of everyone in the class, I couldn't pin point the sources of the mocking giggles. Holding back my gnawing yearn to rip each one of their lips straight off their mouths, especially Mr. Kingsley’s. The smirk adorned on his lips bugged me to no end. "Still acting like a hypocrite, Mr. Kingsley?" I seethed, swearing I felt foam exuding from my mouth.
          "A hypocrite you say? Now why would you accuse me of something like that?" He blinked at me, deploying a look of innocence.
          Grumbling to myself, I dismissed his act, brushing past Nate to take my seat.
          "Now that that distraction has ended," Mr. Kingsley droned, receiving a few more laughs. I rolled my eyes at the desperate displays toward Mr. Kingsley. He continued, "I just wanted to inform you all we'll be starting a project on Monday, but for today we'll just be watching a video on the history of the French Revolution."
          A few groans were muffled, though I didn't conceal mine the least bit, to which he found very amusing. Chuckling to himself, he made sure to add a few last sympathetic comments, as if his announcement would somehow taint his already diminished persona. “Sorry guys, I hate projects just as much as you do, but I have to uphold my duties as your teacher. I promise it’ll be fun, nothing written. I hate grading papers.”

          Well, his apology was freely accepted, everyone perking up already.

          Already annoyed with the situation, I slumped forward in my seat and hammered my forehead down on the surprisingly refreshing cold surface of my desk. My tangled tresses fell like curtains beside my face, masking my peripheral view of the classroom. The lights of the room flickered off, and I sensed the sound of the television start up. Lifting my head so my chin rest on my desk, and I could glare at the screen from beneath my hair, I sighed yet again as the deep, monotonous voice of the narrator started to speak. I began blowing air out of the corner of my mouth to make my hair flare up, finding this the only way to entertain myself besides watching the movie, which I refused to do. Anything that Mr. Kingsley forced us to do, I would disobey.
          "Ms. Daniels, are you having a good time?" His voice boomed from right beside me, though he was out of my line of sight, thankfully.
          "It may come as a surprise to you," I hissed under my breath, continuing my mundane acts, "But no."
          "Would this please you more?" He whispered, and the corner of what appeared to be my cell phone crossed my vision. Peering at his hand, I noticed that he was in fact grasping my phone securely in his hand.
          I almost pounced, "Mr. Kingsley!"
          "Sh!" I heard someone demand playfully, a voice that sounded strangely like Nate's.
          Lowering my voice in submission, I reviled discreetly, "Give that back."
          "And since when did the roles reverse, Rebecca?"
          "Huh?"
          "I'm your teacher," He stated almost wistfully, twirling my phone around in his hand unobtrusively under my desk, as if it were merely a coin and not my entire life. "You're my student, and I make the demands around here."
          "But it's mine, you stole it!"
          "Hypocrite?" He referred smugly.
          Clawing at my desk as if I were some animal, caged and trying to restrain myself, I growled, "If this is some sick plan for you to teach me a lesson, it’s not very effective."
          "Oh, it isn't?" He turned on the screen, making it flash like a small orb of light. His fingers moved skillfully across the pad until he opened up the video I had taken of us the previous day. The only proof, my only source of blackmail I had on him. "You want this, don’t you?"
          I opened my mouth to say, "Mr. Kingsley," But another voice already broke out from somewhere across the room.
          "Mr. Kingsley?" The voice repeated. When I realized that it was, thankfully, Nate, I breathed a sigh of relief.
          He quickly stuffed my phone back into his pocket and gave me one last longing stare before stalking off in the other direction. "Yes, Mr. Richardson?"
          To my surprise, he stood, "Mr. Kingsley," He shot me a knowing stare, "You call this a decent movie? It's boring as hell."
          “Excuse me?” Mr. Kingsley demanded, but I could tell from the expression that was now dawning on his chiseled features that he was merely confused, not angry. Not yet.
          All eyes were now on the pair. I had no idea what Nate was planning, but from the look on his face I knew he was plotting something. Excitedly, I leaned in closer to listen, everyone else following suit, but they were just as dumbfounded. Usually, they expected this kind of outburst from me, not Nate. Shrugging, Nate retorted, "This is really the best you could pick? I mean honestly, I know nothing about France, and I sure won't know anything after leaving your class."
          A few surprised gasps flitted across the class. A smirk grew on my face from the angered expression that Mr. Kingsley wore, his frown deepening.