Futility [ON HOLD]

Chapter 3: Honeymoon phase?

The second bell blares throughout the school, ushering everyone to their classrooms. I drop my phone back into my pocket just as more students begin to file into the classroom, some of them chatting animatedly with their new classmates, others looking as bored as I feel.

Those are my kind of people.

Not that I'll attempt to interact with them or anything, but if we have to pick partners this year, I know who to avoid and who my best options are.

The teacher marches in hurriedly behind the final horde of students that make their way to their seats. I'm guessing this one is our actual teacher because she isn't the same person as our substitute earlier in the week.

I look her up and down, scrutinising her choice in clothing and lack of style.

She's a tall, skinny woman, probably in her mid-to-late forties. Her hair is messily scrunched on top of her head, held there with a surprising amount of hair slides. Her off-coloured blouse is crinkled and worn out, making her look much more flustered. Her pencil skirt doesn't fit her body shape correctly and ends at her ankles.

A definite no-no to anyone with an ounce of style.

I suppress a laugh when I finally notice the clogs on her feet, the size being very disproportionate to the rest of her body.

I finally look away, finding her appearance boring once I've finished scrutinising.

"Well, bonjour class. It's nice to meet you all."

I roll my eyes at her overly cheery attitude. I can already tell she's going to be one of those insanely annoying teachers that doesn't notice when they're boring an entire room of teens to death with her lecture.

I can already imagine how tortuous this class is going to be. Mel is going to need to give me some major therapy once I'm done with this year.

At least once this year is over, I'll never have to step foot in this school ever again. Now that's a thought that brings a smile to my usually blank face.

Everyone in the classroom remained deadly silent, completely disregarding what the teacher just said. Did she expect anyone to actually answer her?

Maybe she's loonier than I first gave her credit for.

I lean back in my seat, slouching down slightly to make myself more comfortable. After all, this hour is seriously going to drag, so I may as well get comfortable, right?

"Okay, well, my name is Madame Vaughn, I'll be your teacher for the year. Are we all excited to learn some French?" She asks, way too excitedly.

I have to fight the need to physically facepalm at her social-awkwardness. This lady needs some serious help. Maybe I could teach her some social cues?

Who am I kidding? Since when do I ever go out of my way to spend more time in this hell-hole.

The silence that drapes over the room is almost suffocating, I can actually find somewhere in my cold heart to pity the poor woman. Then again, she's a 'madame' which I suppose means she's married. At least someone can look past her major social flaws.

I think I'm being too harsh. I'm sure she has a lovely smile.

"Well, let's begin. I shall give you all fair warning that from this lesson onwards, I will be attempting to use as little of the English language as possible, from previous experience, I have found that this is quite helpful in learning a new language." She finishes with a bright smile, glancing around the room and catching the eye of multiple students, including me.