Chapter Three

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"Beverly, right?" I shake my head quickly. "Bev. Please." The woman in front of me eyes me up and down sceptically and I roll my eyes. It's getting really tiring now, they've all already seen me when I was still following the other teachers around to check out their classes, there's no need to obviously judge me know, I'm well aware that they have already done that. Also, I don't recall telling this woman she can address me by my first name. I mean, I don't mind but ... it's impolite. Just because I'm new, doesn't mean she can just disrespect me. "Or possibly, since we've never spoken to eachother, how about Miss Nicholls?"

She looks even more confused and sceptical now so I just turn without claiming my coffee from the machine. I might as well rely on the one I had earlier. And a weird look can not drag down my mood on my first day as a real teacher. I mean, the class seems awesome and I just want to make a change. I know, every teacher is like that in the beginning and if the change isn't satisfactory to them, they become bitter and grow to hate children even though they never thought it was possible. I'm not going to exaggerate it. I'm not going try to make this school a better place, why would I? I couldn't, I'm new and there's no budget, otherwise they would've done something already. I'm going to take care of all the students in my class, I won't let them down and I'll be there for them. That's going to be my goal, I'm going to prepare them for whatever's waiting for them, whatever could be waiting for them.

I wonder if the first day of a job is such a big deal to everyone, I can't picture my new friend the sceptical teacher being excited on her first day, I just can't. She must've had the same face on then and I cannot imagine it with less wrinkles or without the dead eyes. But my job is currently the only steady thing in my life that makes me feel like an adult. I graduated university and I went through everything you have to to become a teacher. And that's it already. I have no money saved up, I don't live at home but I live in a small apartment with a roommate and I feel like I'm still living the student life. I haven't got children or a boyfriend, neither marriage or kids are on the horizon. Isn't that every traditional mother's dream? Fortunately, my mother is not traditional. But my childhood self was, I had pictured myself married with children by this time, in a house as a suburb wife but making a living as a vet. That didn't work out but I mean, I like kids just as much as I like animals. And you don't need to be the person you wanted to be as a child. Because child-you has no idea, to be honest. Child-me didn't know I was going to be huge, child-me didn't know that certain things in life would fuck you up and she certainly had no idea that adult life had struggles and issues for us in store once we grew up. And we all wanted to grow up so badly.

I spend one more lesson with my new class, mostly organizing things because I don't want to be that teacher who does hardcore class right away on the first day after the holidays and I think they appreciate that. I want to be respected but not feared, especially not on my first day here. I may remember this class forever, most certainly. So I tell them that we will definitely do class tomorrw but that I'm sure as hell not going to give them any homework and I think they appreciate that. Just the way I appreciate that my favourite bakery opens just for me during their lunch break so I can get myself a treat and also bring something home for Daley. Daley, who will certainly not have it visible on his hips anytime soon. He works at home but you can't see it on his face or his body.

I unlock the door and the walls are thick but as soon as the door is open just a tiny little, I can hear the techno beat blasting through the apartment and the bass hits me right in the chest so I slam the door shut and walk over to the stereo, just slamming my flat hand against the power button. "Hey!" is the shout I earn from Daley. I look around and see him getting up from the table that has his laptop on it. "Progress?" I ask, unimpressed. He runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head. Whenever he's got a writer's block, he turns up the music to full "We want those kids in their mid-twenties to move out!"-volume which can be pretty annoying since it tends to lead to unpleasant conversations or even debates with the neighbors or occasionally even the landlord. But that's okay. I don't usually handle those situations very well but it's no problem for Daley, it just isn't and let me tell you why.

Daley is a beautiful man. Not only can he eat whatever he wants and maintain a flawless gym-body despite the fact that his gym visit has gone from once a week to once a month but also is there not a spot on his face and his hair is like Edward Cullen's. Yeah, we all hate Twilight now but you cannot say a word against Eddy's hair, that's gonna be hot even when we spread out to the stars in the far future and will be the typical hairstyle for the male individuals of our species, in fact that's going to be the way of idetification, what makes us different from the other life forms. Either way, Daley is very beautiful. Am I in love with him? No. Is everybody else including the landlord and old widow, Mrs. Harly, from next door? Yes and that's the reason he can bail us out of any trouble. For a while, I was convinced he's gay but I can now say for a fact that he is just very metrosexual. And when I say very I mean he uses more hair product than me and sometimes does my make-up. But I'm completely fine with that, just like he's completely fine with the fact that I eat two thirds of what's in the fridge which sometimes includes his things. You may not believe it but it's a lot harder to live with him than it is to live with me.

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