FLO: I Am Not My Father's Son [Zarry Stylik AU]©️

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READ THIS FIRST!!

This work is a sequel to FOR LOVERS ONLY. I suggest you read it before diving in, as there might be some moments that will be references to that story.

You can find the link for it in the comments below 🥰

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Miss Cochran patiently waited for her class to settle down. They had just come in from recess, after the first class in the morning with the unyielding Mr Phillips and hers was the second. Her students poured into the classroom giggling and laughing like the unbothered teens they were. In total there were 28 students in her class ages 15 and 16 in the 11th grade at St Patrick's College.

The class was diverse, with the slight advantage of having more girls than boys, from different backgrounds. The class was first formed in the 10th grade, with a few additions coming in this second year of education, but overall it was a good class, well balanced and with good grades. Miss Cochran, was the classes' director, meaning that aside from teaching the young ones English, she was also aware of their behaviour in classes, their progress in all subjects, and their prospected grade at the end of the year. 

The young teens entered the room, all wearing green uniforms, with white shirts and green ties. Quietly they found their seats and quieted down after noticing the teacher patiently waiting against her desk.

After a moment, the woman turned around and grabbed a stack of sheets of paper, holding them close to her chest. The teacher had a solid 30 years in her profession and despite the challenges of her career, she loved it. Behind her thick-rimmed glasses and her perfect hair, was a woman who was known for being strict, but fair. Who demanded the best of her students and taught classes with care.  

One thing Miss Cochran's career had taught her over the years was that students operated better under fear. Fear of flunking. Fear of detention. Fear of missing recess. Anything that could bust their fun, was worth having. But, not in a manipulative way, it was simply a way to get the work done, and, more times than not, it worked just fine. 

"Good morning," Miss Cochran welcomed, receiving a choir of the same replies. "Do you know what I'm holding?" 

A young woman raised her hand and the teacher welcomed her.

"Our tests?"

"Precisely," Miss Cochran replied. The teacher grabbed the tests, flipping them over. "I must say how disappointed I am. I am disappointed because everything we have discussed in this class was here on this test and, somehow, you all managed to miss the mark. We are closing in on the end of the semester and this is what you have to show for.'

'Now, it would be irresponsible of me to not find some kind of guilt within my actions as well. I am not a perfect teacher. I am flawed. And, I've always heard that if one student fails that's the student's fault, but if an entire class fails, that is the fault of the teacher. But, here, I'll let you see for yourselves." 

The teacher began distributing the tests to the respective students. The wave of disappointment was obvious as Miss Cochran continued her job silently. 

Among them was a young boy who feared his grade the most. With dark hair, dark eyes, and a very striking face, the young boy sat in the middle of the room fidgeting about. He knew he hadn't done well. He was lacking in a few areas and, for the past few months, his grades have been declining. He was already failing three other classes: Science, Mathematics, Geography, and now...English.