Is it bad that I want to tie my teacher down to a train track?
It's been over fourty minutes and I'm only up to my Twenty-Third line. My arm is in excruciating pain from all the writing, my legs are also sore from standing here and my head is throbbing.
"Can you stop?" I spit at Mr. Styles who thinks is completely necessary to whistle.
He shakes his head and chuckles.
"What's so funny?" Okay, now he's really pushing it.
"You're so angry, calm down." He looks at me, face full of amusement.
"I can't "calm down" when you're making me do something I don't even want to and whistling so loud people in China could probably hear you." I rage, dropping the whiteboard marker on his desk.
He laughs. After all that, all he does is laugh.
"Continue your lines." He orders.
I groan and pick up the stupid marker before I continue to write on the board.
"Does your mother know you're in detention?" He asks after a while of silence.
I stop writing and stare at the board. It's been a little over a year since my mum passed. He clearly doesn't know.
"N-No." I bluntly say.
"Did you let her know you'll be home late then?" He continued to interrogate me.
"I don't need to tell her." I silently said.
"Wouldn't she be worried?" He's now looking at me.
"I don't remember agreeing on playing Twenty-One questions." I sarcastically said, hoping he'd shut up.
"So, does she know her daughter has a bad attitude and is a brat? I bet she is so proud of what she has raised." He coldly spoke. I've fucking had enough.
I dropped the marker and make my way to my school bag that was still placed at my desk.
"What do you think you're doing?" He asks.
I didn't reply. I picked up my bag and rush to the door.
"Angelina!" He was angry.
I stopped and turned to him. He was standing now, his jaw tense. He was really angry.
"You don't know me." I calmly spoke. If I yelled, I'd burst into tears. "My mums dead. But I guess she's better off dead than having to raise a disappointment like me right?!" I raised my voice. I quickly wiped the tear that had escaped my eye. Obviously my mother was still a soft topic for me.
I watched as his face fell. His eyes became soft.
"Angelina, I- I didn't know." That was it. He didn't know.
"Exactly, so pull your head out off your ass before you say stupid shit like that. You don't know me. Hell, you don't know anyone here, you think you're so great because you're a teacher, you're "in charge"" I used air quotations. "It's the first day and you have the balls to say things like that to a person you don't know?" More tears have made their way down my cheek.
"You're right, I'm so sorry." He looked at me with sincere eyes. His fingers fidgeting with each other.
"Shove your apology up your ass because it means nothing to me." I spat. Usually I'd feel horrible for speaking to someone like that. Actually, I have never spoken to someone like that. But I don't feel any remorse for what I have just said.
"Angelina.." He sighed, stepping around the table and walking towards me. "Please, don't cry"
Before he could get any closer I pushed the door open and ran out of there. I ran down the halls, his voice repeatedly called my name but it became more faint by the distance I continued to make between us.
YOU ARE READING
The Teacher // h.sFanfiction
We all have that one teacher who is stubborn, narrow-minded and intolerant. Angelina's new History teacher, Mr. Styles could not be described any other way. Besides his dazzling green orbs and charming smile, he is nothing but someone she cannot s...