Teacher's Pet

Teacher's Pet: Prologue

Louis stares at the empty classroom, twenty empty desks just waiting to be filled by the loud, obnoxious teenagers he could hear echoing the hallways, even through the thick wooden door.

He bit nervously on his lip, walking over the board that hung above the desk, and he scrawled his name on it.

Mr. Tomlinson.

He set the chalk aside and crossed his arms, smirking at the words.

Mr. Tomlinson.

How crass. He was only a couple of years older than the students he was to be teaching, how could he ever expect them to show him as much respect as calling him ‘Mr. Tomlinson’.

                 

It sounded weird even to him.

He’d received this job last minute, thanks to quite a few strings being pulled on his behalf by one of his Mum’s ex-boyfriend who was headmaster at the school. The original psychology teacher had fallen ill, and on request from her Doctor had moved to London for better medical care, on medical leave for a semester, leaving the school scrambling for someone to fill the position.

And when Louis said strings had to be pulled, he meant laws, because he was quite sure that his crash course in teaching he’d received over the summer still didn’t make it quite lawful to be teaching this class, at the young age of 19.

                 

But, officially he was only Teacher’s Assistant, the only issue with that being that the teacher was of course, no longer in Holmes Chapel. Leaving the assistant to do the teaching.

Which really meant that Louis was doing everything a teacher would do, only on a lesser salary.

He couldn’t bring himself to complain though, the money beat that that he would be making if he’d stayed home and worked at a pub, and he’d promised himself he’d stick this gig out for at least the semester, earning some cash before he took off to pursue a career in music.

He’d need some kind of money to live off of, and this opportunity seemed too good to just pass up.

However, as the clock neared nine in the morning, and the noises in the hallway grew louder as it filled up with students, Louis began to doubt his decision as nerves set in.

He didn’t have much time to compose himself though, because all too soon, the bell rung and his first class of the day began to file in. He stood next to his desk and tried to smile the best he could, watching as the girls all looked at him and immediately erupted into giggles, whispering to each other.

That was a bit uncomfortable.

The boys weren’t all that better, smirking as they saw him and turning to each other with raised eyebrows, fists clenching at their sides.

Louis swallowed nervously. He walked to the door as the last bell rang, reaching to close it, but was cut off by a hurried young man who entered the room, loose curls bouncing as he stumbled in. Louis raised a brow at his retreating back but chose not to say anything at the disgruntled boys appearance, as the rest of the class burst into giggles, the attention pulled off of Louis for the moment.

                 

Louis waited a few more seconds before he closed the door and turned to the class, clearing his throat in an attempt to call their attention.

When they continued on, Louis cleared his throat louder, this time smacking his hand down on the desk. And suddenly twenty pairs of beady eyes were on him, watching his every move.

“Hello,” he forced his voice to remain steady and loud, as he stood behind the wooden desk, attempting to feign composure “Welcome back. I know we’re all pleased to start another term of school-“

“Bloody likely,” a boy in the back hissed, and the class erupted into a giggles. Louis licked his lips, pausing a moment before continuing through the aimless chatter that filled the room.

“Yes, well. As you may already know Mrs. Abrams, who normally teaches this course, has taken ill this semester. Thus I will be replacing her for the time being,” Louis turned to the board and pointed to his name, “I am Mr. Tomlinson,” The words sounded weirder coming from his mouth. “And am looking forward to an excellent year of Psychology with you.”

He turned back to the class and faced twenty blank stares. A couple of heads were already down, dozing off on their desks, and more than half of the girls were paired off in secret whispering conversations, right in front of his eyes.

Two boys in the back, one blonde and one with brown hair, were leaning over the kid with curly hair, whispering over his head as he stared blankly at Louis, eyes glossed over. Louis caught his eye and froze momentarily, before he moved on to look at a group of boy in the corner who were snickering loudly at something held underneath the desk and out of Louis’ line of sight. 

He sighed loudly.

Well this was off to just a great start wasn’t it.

“I thought, it’d be fun,” Louis said, clapping his hands together, trying to regain control of this situation that was very quickly taking a turn for a worst, “If we started doing journals in this class, in the beginning every day, as a way to warm up our minds.”

It wasn’t actually his idea; it was one he had pulled from the Internet after he’d stooped so low as to google teaching techniques. It had been the highest rated idea on a forum, which was really enough for Louis who was looking for something a bit more substantial than making Popsicle stick models of memories.

In the reviews it had said it’d help forge a bond between the teacher and a student, and while Louis didn’t really care about any bonds being made, he was looking for something that would pass him off as a good enough teacher to receive a paycheck.

He turned back to the class, waiting for a reaction, but was once again met by twenty pairs of uncaring eyes.

“Right, so,” Louis cleared his throat, “If you will all take out a notebook. You’ll have ten minutes to write whatever you wish by means of an introduction to me. I will be reading these, so keep that in mind. However-“ He paused, making sure all eyes were still on him, “I promise you that whatever you write in there will be kept completely confidential between you and I.”

Trust, that was important in teaching. Right? He’d trust them, they’d trust him and maybe they’d make it through this semester alive.

“Any questions?” He asked, and the room was silent except for the flipping of notebooks. Louis looked around at each head, “No?”

A young girl in front, her hair pulled into braids, chewing gum and batting her eyelashes lifted up her hand. “How old are you?” she asked with a smile and the girls around her erupted into a fit of simultaneous giggles, all staring up with shared looks of awe.

Louis shifted uncomfortably, pulling at his collar and staring down at the girls before shrugging. He turned to sit down behind his desk and propping his feet up on his desk, “Too old,” he replied, staring straight at the girls, and their giggles immediately ceased, faces turning bright red. “Ten minutes starts now.”