Pretty Girl

{CHAPTER 10} - A HELPING HAND

- Thursday -


How should I describe Mr. Fern?

Well for starters he was a charismatic man.

Students would hang off of every word that slipped out of his mouth. On the edge of their seats, they could never get enough. He made them want to know more.

No, they needed to know more.

He had a soothing voice that never seemed to crack. It was like singular smooth note that never broke, sending his students into an entranced state.

Always low, and steady.

Full of confidence, and reassurance.

The second thing to know about him was he never belittled his students, and never put himself above them. They were all equals in his class.

He was more like that smart classmate that was easy to talk to.

Just one conversation with the man would make you feel like you could tell him anything.

That's what set him apart from other professors.

Thirdly , in my opinion irrelevant, thing to know about Mr. Fern was students often compared him to a sheep.

Not because he had stereotypical qualities like the animal; like being shy, or easily influenced. But, because of his hair.

Yes that's right his hair.

It had a wavy, slightly curly texture that would remind his students of sheep.

On top of that he had some white streaks hidden. Most have even said it has the same consistency of wool.

From time-to-time Pretty girl would have quaint discussions with Mr. Fern, often confiding in him about mini-internal conflicts.

After a while she felt it unnecessary to continue with the routine, and after a while she stopped.

The last thing to know about Mr. Fern is that he is relatively young.

Well compared to the other professors he was young, but not young enough.

He was around his late twenties. Set in his prime complimented with conventional attractiveness.

This surprisingly somehow boosted his popularity even more.

 It was no secret that many of the female students had feelings for him. I mean who wouldn't like an intelligent, good-looking man, with a soothing voice.

Though he had a decent number of great qualities, there was so much that people still didn't know.

It was Thursday, and she stopped by Mr. Ferns office to receive the extra help he had offered.

In her mind this was the last, and only option for her, in hopes she'd boost her grade.

In the class there were two other girls there, finishing off a conversation.

She knew they wouldn't stay for long. Lingering patiently she fiddled with her loose papers. Recounting if she had brought everything that was essential.

As the girls slipped away from the scene she approached him, and with a smile he led her to an open desk.

"I'm so glad you could make it. Now... what are you struggling with that you'd like to go over?"

She scattered her book and papers, flipping over sheets to identify the things that were bothering her most.

Impatiently he waited, before saying. "You know what, I'd think it'd be best if we just started from scratch."

She felt conscious, upset over the idea she could be wasting Mr. Ferns time. Making his way over to the white board Pretty girl just remembered what her confusions were.

Instead decided to keep quiet. He bulleted important facts that were crucial to know by heart.

She intently listened but often drifted away. It wasn't purposeful, just an awful habit.

In between his readings he would glance over making sure it was sinking in. In response Pretty girl nodded, but it was just as empty as her thoughts.

Unable to concentrate she took out a blank sheet, and jotted his notes, wanting it to make some sort of sense. In doing so she didn't realize that Mr. Fern was right behind her, observing.

A tiny, little detail I forgot to mention about Mr. Fern was he was also odd, developed strange behaviors. The type of behavior that was unnecessary.

"Is this all making sense to you?", he asked in a lower tone.

She just nodded, unsure how to verbally reply.

"Do you have anymore questions, or anything else you would like me to clarify?"

"I don't really understand to be honest. I appreciate that you've written everything in a simpler way, but I think it would make more sense if I study alone."

His hand slide across the top rim of her chair, leaning in to get a better view of her notes.

Examining it, coming to the conclusion of whether or not her claims were true.

 "How about instead you come to me Saturday?" As he intently gazed into her eyes, she couldn't bring herself to say no.

I'd argue she didn't know how.

"Ok so you can come in around the same time. I should be free by then." Slowly his right-hand cusp her face, and remarked, "I'm glad you can trust me."

With his other hand he placed it on her left shoulder blade which sent her sinking deeper into her seat.

A sickness boiled within her.

Frozen, and unable to move she tried coming up with an excess. Anything once he drew closer.

Her wishes were granted when the sound of a phone capturing a photo went off.

Mr. Fern looked over his shoulder, and questioned "what was that sound?" Breaking her trance, she stood up.

"I'm sorry I really have to go to a class, see you Saturday."

In bewilderment he said "have a good day."

Sheknew she didn't mishear that sound.

However, it was already too late. No onewas outside of the class. And if they were they were long gone.