Let Me In | Herophine Fic

I Can Actually See You

JOSEPHINE

Already, I'm quickly starting to realise and gauge the characters in my class and who are the ones who are going to try and push my buttons and challenge me. I've always been able to gauge people from an early age and it massively helps when it comes to teaching.

I'm in the middle of a geography class, specifically about the formation of rivers and how they have helped to create the landmass of all the different continents.

"Can anyone tell me what the longest river in the world is?" I see some of the students begin to think before a few tentatively put their hands up, hazarding a guess. I point to a brown-haired girl called Isabella sitting at one of the middle tables, her face unsure.

"Is it the Nile?" I nod, smiling again.

"Yes, well done. Now, can anyone tell me any of the names of rivers in Australia?" Everyone's hands shoot down and they all look at each other confused. I always ask this question to see whether anyone has any idea. It doesn't surprise me they don't, but then a boy named Aiden raises his hand up and I point at him, letting him speak.

"Miss, can you teach us Aussie slang?" I start to laugh, along with some of the students.

"How do you even know about that, Aiden?" Shrugging his shoulders, he tells me he saw it on YouTube which in this day and age, given their ages too, really doesn't surprise me. I know this will take me off on a tangent, but it won't take me too long. And they go home shortly so, closing the book I place it down on my desk and retake my place front and centre in front of the class, I love being able to share this with them.

I've not stopped smiling since my class left. Hearing them imitate my accent and say the words I was asking them to just got me. It's always hysterical to hear them say Aussie slang back to me in miniature British accents. I've really had a good first proper day with my class, add in the win from yesterday's West Ham game and the fact I'm actually FaceTiming with Hero tonight, I'd say I'm in for a good week. Or at least I hope I am. Who knows what teaching my new class will bring.

As I exit Bromley-by-Bow tube station my mind wanders back to the number 8 player that I'll be chatting with, in person, tonight. Surely, he's going to be absolutely knackered from yesterday's match and travelling. And he'll have been with his little girl today and if being a teacher has taught me anything, it's the younger they are the more attention they require. I can't pinpoint specifically how old his little girl is but I can imagine his world revolves around her when they're together. That's got to be so tiring for him. It may sound awful of me, but it wouldn't surprise me if he asked to reschedule. Not that I'd mind, he leads a much busier and more demanding life than I do, that's for sure.

I put the key into my door and as I push it open, I feel resistance, pressing against it. Frowning, I push the door open as much as I can and squeeze past it before shutting it over completely. On the floor, a parcel is there. I've not ordered anything...? Curiously, after I've placed my key down in the bowl beside the door and the books to be marked from school, I crouch down and pick up the mystery parcel. Instantly, I feel it's soft and pliable. I'd assume clothes but I've not ordered any new clothes recently. This is very strange but I'm intrigued. Further adding to my intrigue is the fact that my address has been handwritten and it's in a script I can't place. This is very strange. Who's sending me things?

Placing the mystery parcel on the counter facing out towards the living area, I grab the scissors from the kitchen and start to carefully snip at the large brown cello tape wrapped around the parcel, keeping it in the cover. If it is clothes, I don't want to cut anything before knowing what it is. I begin to wonder if my family has sent me anything? Maybe they've sent me a surprise. Oh, fuck knows what this is. Also who the hell has my address?