Mr. B. Urie

1

He stands at the front of the class, grinning with his bottom lip sucked in and his hands folded in front of his stomach. It is absolutely adorable, especially because he's wearing a bow tie. But what am I doing? He is my teacher, no matter how young or attractive he looks.

He really does look young, too. I'd hazard a guess at around 20-24. That's only three to seven years older than me, and I know married couples with ten years between each other. Not that I'm contemplating marriage. Hell, I would settle for a hug or a pat on the shoulder, any physical contact would suffice.

He clears his throat and turns around, writing something on the board: Grade 12 AP English, Mr. B. Urie. "Welcome to your last AP English class of your high school career! My name is Brendon Boyd Urie. Most of you already know that this is my first day teaching here at Cedar Brooks High, and I can appreciate the fact that none of you snickered at the fact that my middle name is Boyd." He gets a few laughs, mine included and continues on. "Anyways, since this is a high school, you're not technically allowed to call me Brendon, but if you want to . . . Well, who's gonna stop you? Just don't go calling my name down the hall like some lunatic, I don't need to lose my job so quickly." There are more chuckles and his eyes scan the class, landing on me.

"Let's start with attendance. And, fair warning, I suck at names, so correct me if I butcher yours entirely." He picks up the folder with the class list and smiles to himself. "Ariella Alvos?" I raise my hand sheepishly, I hate that I am always the first name on the attendance list. "Good afternoon," he greets. I only nod, and start doodling in my notebook. It's hard to avoid his stare. When he finishes attendance, he clasps his hands behind his back and smirks at the class. "Who wants to bring this down to the office for me?"

Again his eyes land on me, but I pretend not to notice. Maybe if I act like I didn't hear him, he'll leave me alone. How wrong I am. "Ariella, do you mind?" He asks, tossing the folder onto the desk that I'm sitting at. I chew my cheek and stand up, walking towards the door.

****

"Did you see that new teacher? He's so hot, oh my Lord!" My best friend Taya asks as we're walking home from school. We both live about two blocks away, which is very convenient for people who like to save on gas.

"I have him fourth period for AP English. He's kind of funny, too . . . And holy crap, he's young!" I squeal, turning up my driveway. "Are you coming in?" She usually does when my dad's not home. He's always away on business, and I hate to be alone.

"Can't today, my mom's gonna freak out. She got a call from the school saying that I'm missing one of my immunizations or something, and she thinks I'm going to die . . . Or worse, get suspended!" She jokes, continuing down the street. "I'll see you tomorrow, though. Night Arie!"

"Night!" I call back, unlocking my front door and shuffling in. It's been a pretty easy day, considering it's the first of the school year, but I'm still exhausted. I drop my backpack on the floor and wander into the kitchen, grabbing an apple and a glass of orange juice. I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and pull it out.

Dad: should be home around 10 pm, just boarding the plane now. Love you!

I roll my eyes, taking a bite of my apple. He'll be home, sure, but for how long? The longest has been three days, the shortest three hours. One time, he wasn't even home for Christmas. I had to stay at Taya's and pretend like I wasn't intruding on her family traditions. That was back in grade nine when I'd only just met her a few months prior. That's how we got so close.

I wait up until my dad gets home, and when he comes in the door, I run over to him. "Hey, kid," he lets go of the suitcase he's holding and hugs me tightly to his chest. As much as he's never around, he still loves me to bits.

"When do you leave again?" I ask, taking his suitcase and bringing it towards the stairs.

"Tomorrow at 1:00 pm, so I won't be here when you get home from school. I've already transferred some money into your bank account, should be enough to last you the month." He kisses my forehead. "I'm sorry I'm away so much, sweetheart. I'll be home for a week when I get back and we can go out for a celebration or something, okay?" I nod and give him another hug.

"Goodnight, dad. Love you," I climb the stairs to my bedroom and flop onto my bed. I fall asleep within minutes.

My alarm rings in my ears, playing Bullet by Hollywood Undead. I slide my lock screen to turn it off and groan at how early it is. It should be illegal to start school earlier than 9:30. I roll out of bed and start getting ready, putting on a black MCR shirt, ripped blue skinnies and a pair of worn-out Converse. I leave my messy curls cascading over my shoulders and run downstairs. I only ever give myself five minutes to get to school because of how much I hate waking up early. I race out the door, saying a quick goodbye to my dad, who is sitting at the kitchen table drinking a coffee and reading the paper.

*****

"I'm sorry to have to do this to you guys, but stand up and go to the sides of the room. We're getting a seating plan, as required by our . . . Lovely . . . Principal." Mr. Urie presses a smile. I don't blame him, nobody likes Ms. Scherer. She's fucking crazy! "Alright, we're going in alphabetical order. Ariella, you're right here," he points at the desk right in front of his. Normally I would hate that, but he's a really attractive guy and I don't mind being close by. "Natasha, you're behind her . . . " He continues. The set up of the desks is weird. There's one row at the side that I sit in, then a gap and three desks and then another gap and two desks. In any case, I don't mind sitting sort of alone. I like to be able to daydream.

"Now, I'm going to hand out a diagnostic. Do your best, and don't worry, it's not part of your mark." He sets a paper on my desk and I flip it over and groan to myself. I don't remember anything from last year, I'm going to fail.