Mated To The Werewolf Calculus Teacher

2

Emmy

"Mr. Black?"

 I try to control the quiver in my voice as I approach his desk. "Can I talk to you?"

"Be quick." Is his only response as he grabs his Teacher-ID from the side drawer of his desk. I bristle at his standoffish response but continue as prompted.

"Well, I believe I've covered everything in this curriculum at my last high school, and I-"

"How impressive." He mutters,  as he walks to the door of the classroom.

I squint my eyes at his sarcastic comment but refuse to let it deter me from getting as far away from this ill-tempered man as possible.

I clear my throat as he flips the lights, "I would like to test out of your class."

That stops him in his tracks. He turns to me, his eyes as narrowed as mine were just a moment ago.

"You want to test out of AP Calculus?" The doubt and incredulity in his tone makes it sound as if I'm asking to join NASA.

I furrow my brow, "Um... yes?"

He crosses his heavily muscled arms over his broad chest. I try not to let his size nor his demeanor intimidate me as I hold his gaze.

"You realize you'll only have two weeks to prove yourself proficient enough to test out of the course,"

"Yes, I understand that."

"And that you'll need to not only have immaculate grades but show comprehension of all of the material up until that point?"

"Yes." I say, offering a pleasant yet slightly annoyed smile at his doubt of me.

"Great. Then I would be happy to set aside an hour and a half of my day to test you out of this course, Emilia."

"It's Emmy actually-"

"And when you fail, I'd like a written apology laid on my desk the next morning for wasting my time." He turns and walks out of the room without another word.

*****

"He is an arrogant, pompous, know-it-all bastard!" I seethe, stabbing my fork into the cafe macaroni.

"Galavanting around all superior, like his class is the freaking Mensa entrance exam!" The chicken is my fork's next victim.

Chris sits next to me, one headphone in. I'm convinced he's only half-listening to my rant when he says, "Maybe he's right. AP Calc is the hardest course on the roster."

I laugh, finally taking a bite of my mutilated chicken breast. "Then this school needs a better roster."

"Seriously, Emilia. You were gone before you got a good look at the syllabus but it seems pretty intense."

"Emmy." I correct.

"Em." He settles with a challenging gleam in his eye.

I smirk, and relent, bringing a forkful of Mac and Cheese to my lips. I take a small bite, regret it, and set the bland food to the side.

Chris pulls the headphone from his ear, "Look, Mr. What's-his-name is new here, so I can't speak on his teaching methods. But I tried AP Calc last year and I had to drop it before it brought down my GPA. I'm just saying, I wouldn't jump the gun if I were you."

"Well, if you were me, you would've passed the class." As soon as I say it, I want to take it back.

"Wow." Chris chuckles humorlessly. He slings his bag over his shoulder and picks up his lunch tray. "Making friends really isn't your strong suit."