Mr. Mendes

III - Stay After

I shut my phone off when I heard someone enter the room and close the door, meaning that it was the teacher. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw who it was.

"Good morning class, I'm Mr. Mendes."

❊

Holy. Shit. This can't be happening. I mean don't get me wrong, I'd love to stare at him all year, but my new teacher practically saw me naked, then basically hit on me!

He walked across the classroom and headed over to his desk. Oh no, I'm sitting the closest to his desk!

He sat down and looked up, his eyes immediately looking into mine. For a spilt second he had that face everyone makes when they recognize someone, but can't remember where they've seen them. Then it hit him. His eyes widened the slightest bit, and his cheeks grew the slightest shade of red in embarrassment. He didn't stay like this for long, remembering that there were nineteen other students in the classroom with us. He cleared his throat then loosened his tie a bit, and stood up out of his chair.

He walked over to the chalkboard and wrote out the class name, his name, and the date.

Ancient Egyptian History

Mr. Mendes

Thursday, August 25, 2016

He turned back around to face the class, then began to speak, "Hello everyone, and welcome to Ancient Egyptian History. As I've already said I'm Mr. Mendes. I know that everyone hates ice breakers, but it's the best way to start the year," he said, laughing slightly.

"We'll go across the rows, starting from the back. When it's your turn please stand up and tell me your name and age. Feel free to ask me any questions about myself, it can be anything. Let's start with you," he explained, pointing to the girl at the desk in the back right corner.

Weronika Straftford was one of my best friends, and I could already tell she was into him. She stood up with a sly smirk on her face, smoothing out her mini skirt. "I'm Weronika Stratford, but feel free to call me Ronnie, and I'm seventeen. How old are you, Mr. Mendes?" she asked him, trying to have a seductive voice.

"I'm twenty four," he smiled, gesturing for the next person to go. We went around the classroom like this for about ten minutes, all the girls clearly attracted to him. When it was my turn, I hesitantly stood up.

"I'm Maggie Pérez and I'm eighteen," I told him, sitting back down in my seat.

"Okay, do you have any questions for me, Maggie?" he asked, keeping strong eye contact with me.

A coy smirk pulled across my lips as I brought my pen up to my mouth, "Nope," I said, popping the p, watching as his gaze became fixated on my lips.

He cleared his throat for what seemed like the tenth time already, and looked at the rest of the class. "Well, I look forward to getting to know all of you better this year. There's forty minutes left in class, but I didn't want to start a real lesson plan until Monday. So everyone please pull out a notebook, and write a small list of what you're looking forward to in this class this year. When you've finished just talk quietly amongst yourselves," he ended with a smile, heading back to his desk.

As he walked by me I took the opportunity to get a good look at him. He was wearing black jeans and the same black boots, and a three-quarter sleeve dark grey shirt. It fit a bit tight around his biceps, but I wasn't complaining. I think he noticed me checking him out, because when he sat down at his desk he gave me a faint smile and raised his eyebrows a bit.

I made the same face to him in return, and we both laughed quietly to ourselves. It's going to be an interesting year.

-

In the last ten minutes of class, all the girls were passing around a note. I wondered what it was, but didn't care enough to ask. However, a few minutes later Olivia Jennings placed it on my desk.

I opened the note up to find "Who thinks the new teacher is hot!!??" written at the top, and a bunch of girls writing "yes!" all over it, signing their names after it. I debated writing my answer or not for a minute, before I decided to just go along with it. There were twenty kids in this class, including me, and only eight of them were girls. All but one of us played volleyball together, so we were good friends.

I reached over to pull a pen out of my bag, but when I sat back up the note was gone. I looked up to find Mr. Mendes standing in front of my desk, the note in his hand. He winked at me, much like he had the day before, and returned to his desk with the note in his hand.

I could hear the girl's sighs of relief when he folded the note back up and placed it on his desk without reading it. I was just glad that no one called me out for being the one who got it taken away.

The bell rang soon after that, and everyone packed up their things and left. Just as I was about to leave the classroom, Mr. Mendes called my name.

"Maggie, come here for a second please," he said kindly. I turned around and walked back over, sitting at my desk.

He held up the unfolded note and gave me a questioning look.

I laughed a bit before I spoke, "They're just a bunch of harmless teenage girls, they'll still do well in your class even if they think you're a distraction," I told him honestly.

"What about you?" he asked, which took me by surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I saw the note a long time before I took it from you. I was waiting for you to write your answer before I took it," he said. How can he say that so calm and confidently?

"I guess you should've waited to take the note then," I said with a wink, standing up and tossing my bag over my shoulder.

"Bye, Mr. Mendes," I said slyly, leaving the classroom.