Teacher's Pet (Freewood)

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Ryan was nervously shuffling papers, his blue eyes darting around the overly-organized desk he sat at, making sure that he had everything he would need.

It was his first day as a teacher, something he’d been preparing for since he was seventeen, and he was more than a little afraid now that the time had come.

He was twenty-four, and he was fucking terrified, to be honest.

The chimes of a new class rang through the school and he jumped slightly at them, folding his broad hands together in front of him in hopes of seeming professional. He didn’t look at the students as they came in, choosing instead to rake his eyes over a pointless memo he’d already read and calm his nerves.

The tardy bell rang and he looked up, unsurprised to see his class had completely filled. He stood, clearing his throat for their attention, smiling when he received nearly all of it.

“Good morning class. My name is Mr. Haywood.” He wrote it on the whiteboard with a red marker as he said it, relieved for a reason to turn away from the class.

“Welcome to Chemistry. As you can tell by the beakers and such I have set up back there, this class will include lab work. Don’t worry, we won’t be working with anything too dangerous.” He heard a few muffled aww’s and smirked. “But there will be an occasion or two that involves close proximity with fire. We’ll work in pairs for that so anyone uncomfortable with it can have a partner that is more than willing to help.” He glanced around at the many faces. “I think this seating chart should be fine, as long as you don’t get in too much trouble. I’m fairly laid back, but I’d appreciate if you were to keep the noise to a low hum while I’m talking.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to the first person in the row closest to the door. “Can you pass this around? Everyone write your name down where you are sat. It’ll save me time.”

He strolled back to his desk, snatching up his attendance sheet with twenty-six names on it. “Let’s call roll then, shall we?” He quirked an eyebrow at them and a few girls giggled. “When I call your name, I’d like you to stand, tell the class your age and grade, and a fun little fact about yourself.” He knew they were basically all seniors and likely to know each other already, but it would help him to distinguish who would be a troublemaker.

He went through the names quickly, taking in little bits of information; Caleb Denecour liked Frisbee, Gavin Free was absent, Michael Jones was from Jersey, Geoff Ramsey was clearly already a drinker at eighteen, etc. etc.

He was about to continue when his door burst open and a boy with tanned skin and golden brown hair came ambling in. He was tall and thin, and he seemed to freeze after he regained his balance. His green eyes locked onto Ryan and he bit his lip.

‘Oh no, he’s hot.’ Ryan thought for a second before shaking it out of his head, pulling the attendance sheet in front of him. “Um, do you belong in this class?”

“I sure hope so.” The boy spoke with a heavy British accent, making a scene to eye the teacher up and down. There were muffled giggles around the room and Ryan could feel his face heat up.

“What’s your name?” He continued and the boy looked a bit put-off by Ryan’s lack of response to his comment.

“Gavin Free.” He mumbled. “I got lost on my way here.”  He grinned to the curly-haired boy across the room, Michael, before strutting over to take the empty seat beside him.

“Well, Gavin, I want you to stand up and tell the class your age, grade, and one fact about yourself.” Ryan placed the now-complete attendance onto the edge of his desk, making a mental note to have one of the more trustworthy students bring it down, perhaps Barbara.

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