What Teachers Do After School (ON HOLD)

What Teachers Do After School

Caroline’s POV

I hate my life.

My mom left my dad when I was 12 years old and never looked back. I hardly recognize my father anymore. He’s either at the pub, hitting me, or completely passed out on our couch. The beatings have become a regular thing for me. I’m 17 years old, so I could technically leave this all behind, but I don’t have enough money to survive by myself. I have layered dirty blond hair with side fringe, grey-blue eyes, and freckles dusting my cheeks.

Today starts the first day of my senior year. I saw on the school website that there are 5 new teachers for the seniors since many of the old ones just retired. I pulled on my favorite skinny jeans, a purple Jack Wills hoodie, and my black converse before straightening my hair and applying makeup. I grabbed my backpack before sprinting to make the bus. I sat by myself and casually walked to my locker after the bus dropped us off.

Just before I shut my locker I heard some girl yell to me, “Slut!”

Everyone around us burst into giggles and I sighed. My feet carried me to my first class as I thought about my life. Everyone at school began hating me last year, ever since my so called ‘best friend’ spread a rumor that I had slept with her boyfriend after already having one myself. In reality, my boyfriend broke up with me and my best friend’s boyfriend tried to rape me that same night at a party. She just happened to walk in at the wrong time.

“Loser!” I heard a guy yell just before I opened the classroom door to English.

I was the first one in there, so I got to meet the new teacher before anyone else.

“Hi! I’m Mr. Tomlinson!” He said eagerly while shaking my hand.

“I’m Caroline. Caroline Neal,” I said with a genuine smile.

Mr. Tomlinson was wearing black dress pants with a blue dress shirt and black Tom’s. He has perfectly styled, short brown hair, slightly tanned skin, and sparkling blue eyes.

“I hope I live up to your previous teachers,” he said with a wink.

I giggled and said, “Don’t worry; I’m sure you’re a great teacher.”

I took my seat just as the rest of the class came in. I sat in the back to avoid teasing from everyone else and I took out my notebook to take notes. Everyone in the class ended up loving Mr. Tomlinson. He’s incredibly funny and relatable. Of course, most of the girls spent their time staring at his butt when they thought he wasn’t looking.

After that class, I made my way to Social Studies where I have a normal teacher; no young hot guy. After that, I headed to music class where I was met by the sound of a guitar. The man I’m guessing is our teacher was sitting on his desk, strumming a guitar and humming. He glanced up at the few kids entering the classroom and smiled.

“Welcome! Come sit anywhere!” He said with a heavy Irish accent.

He has short, tousled bright blond hair with the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. After everyone was seated and the bell had rung, he set down his guitar and stood in front of us.

“I’m Mr. Horan and I’ll be your music theory teacher for this school year!”

It turns out, Mr. Horan is amazing just like Mr. Tomlinson. Everyone enjoyed him immensely and all the girls thought he was incredibly fit.

My next class turned out to be art, and boy was that an interesting class. It turned out to be a team taught class, so there was a woman and man waiting for us. They both looked to be only about 22 or 23 years old.

“Hello! I’m Zayn Malik and I’ll be your art teacher for this year. I only have one rule, and it’s don’t call me Mr. Malik, because it makes me feel old,” the man said cheerfully.

The woman beside him smiled and said, “And I’m Briana Malik; which means I’ll be your other art teacher,” she said.

I noticed the wedding bands on each of their hands and smiled at the thought of having a married couple teach my art class.

After that class, I had math. I entered the room pretty late, but there was still no teacher. I sat close to the front and opened up my notebook to start doodling. After a few more minutes, the classroom door opened and my new math teacher walked in and sat his books down along with his bag.

“Sorry I’m late class. I’m Mr. Styles and I’ll be your math teacher,” he said in a deep, sexy voice.

I swear, all of the girls in the room were drooling; one of them being me. Mr. Styles was wearing a grey dress shirt, a black bow tie, black dress pants, and black dress shoes. He has incredible curly brown hair that he’s styled to frame his face perfectly. His slightly tanned skin shows off his piercing green eyes, causing my pulse to quicken.

His eyes scanned over the students and as they landed on me, his eyes sparkled and he winked discreetly. My cheeks reddened slightly with a blush and I smiled before looking away shyly.

The whole classroom focused on Mr. Styles for the whole period and were slightly disappointed when the bell rang.

“See you all tomorrow!” He said in his sexy voice.

After heading to lunch, science, and gym where I had a new teacher, Mr. Payne, I hopped on the bus and headed back home. We were all told at school that each of us would have to spend one time a week with our designated counselors. I wasn’t looking forward to it, since I don’t like to open up to anyone.

The next morning, I arrived at school in a bad mood. My dad had gone out and gotten more drunk than usual, resulting in a punch to the jaw for me. Now I have a large bruise of the right side of my jaw; so dark that even cover up doesn’t fully help. When it was time to see my personal counselor, I approached the room and knocked gently. I heard somebody call for me to come in. I pushed open the door and my jaw dropped as I saw the person at the desk.