Blue's Eyes

Chapter 2 - The Teacher:

Mr Romero's picture to the side. (:

Chapter 2 – The Teacher:

Raising my hand, I gave it a moderately loud knock before creaking it open a crack. “Yes?” A voice came. But what I didn’t expect was the voice to be low and melodic, almost attractive. Now you’ve done it, I thought. You’ve finally gone crazy. Attractive voices? Really? Pushing the door open a little more, I slipped into the room and closed the door quietly behind me. Quickly scanning the room, I found two free seats. The first one was in the front row next to a bleached blond cheer leader that looked like she’d just come off of a teenaged television show. The second free seat was situated in front of a boy at the very back with his head on the desk. He was wearing a white shirt and ripped jeans with studded wrist bands. Mostly safe – safer than the blond.

I quickly scurried off to the desk and slid into the chair. Putting my books on the desk, I nervously picked up the pen and started to doodle on the corners of my book.  

“That’s right, I almost forgot. We were getting a new student this week,” Said Mr Romero. I could’ve punched him. He couldn’t have continued on with the lesson? The frisky butterflies in my stomach turned into fluttering sparrows. I swallowed, cautiously looking up from the cat face that I’d messily sketched. The class had turned to look at me and I only just stopped myself from glaring at them and telling them to mind their own business. “What’s your name?” 

It was quiet, too darn quiet. I looked at the teacher at the front, but had trouble seeing his face due to the people sitting in front of me. “Belle,” I answered, keeping my tone not timid, but not overly confident. 

“Tell me, Belle,” Mr Romero spoke, starting to pace. I caught a glimpse of his face a couple of times, but still couldn’t properly see him. “Why are you so late?”

Was this guy serious? I could’ve just died right then and there. Why was I late? “I got lost.” I said in a simple voice.

“Well,” He said, starting to come up the aisle. “Did you need a map to find the room?”

I frowned, “No. Why would I need a map?”

The class made some noise, snorting and giggling. Mr Romero came to stand at my desk and I looked up at him, keeping my mask on. “Because,” He said, and I noticed a slight Spanish accent. His skin was sun kissed and olive, while his eyes were green. Mr Romero’s hair was dark brown and messy, while a slight shadow of stubble wandered down his strong jaw to his sturdy chin. “You were lost.” 

My face blank, I blinked at him once, “I’m quite capable of finding my own way.” 

“That’s nice. Maybe you could find your way to the detention room during lunch.”

I sighed, “I couldn’t do that.”

“And why’s that?”

I held up the timetable, “Because life’s too short to be bored.”

Mr Romero’s stare wavered, then his lip quirked up, “I was only joking.” He said, shaking his head as he strolled back down to the front of the class. He leaned against the wooden desk that stood in front of the dusty chalk board. “As I was saying,” His eyes flashed to me then to the whole class. “The algebra test is Wednesday next week, and I just wanted to check up where you all are with it. So, surprise practice test!” Mr Romero grinned as everyone groaned.

Algebra? Was he joking?

A piece of paper landed on my desk and I stared at it. Equations and shapes stared up at me, laughing at the horror that passed over my face. I’d only just gained an understanding of Pythagoras. If there was one thing that I couldn’t do – it was mathematics. I usually received A’s and B’s in everything; apart from math. E’s and D’s, the occasional C if I was lucky. I remember my first F, it was in grade 10 geometry. I. Hated. Mathematics.