Don't You Dare Tell Anyone Mr. Stevens

Chapter 3: Mr. Stevens creative writing class

"Ok, class" Mr. Stevens says and turns to face us.

I don't know why he had such a dazzling white smile stretched across his face. It was Monday. He hated Mondays and made it known. I guess that's why everyone loved him so much. He was real, he was young, and really understood and connected with all of us. I was his favorite though and he was mine.

He does that thing where he claps his hands together and rubs them. So cliche of him.

His dark looks were slick and shiny today brushed back. He looked like he were from the 40s just like Miss Rosenberg's glasses. His white button down shirt ironed, permed, and dressed to perfection every button aligned and glossy. His black belt blended in with his pants perfectly. I think Marcus has a belt like that too. Mr.Stevens always looked flawless. And I mean always. His glossy shoes shined in the sunlight along with the aquamarine blue of his eyes. He took off his reading glasses, folded them up and placed them on his desk. I noticed his skin was flawless and shaved. Mr.Stevens was incredibly handsome. And I mean he was good looking. I just didn't see it that way. This guy, although he's young, was still old enough to be my dad. I just see him as Mr.Stevens. My freaking awesome teacher.

"I have a new assignment I want all of you to start working on" he says and leans on the corner of his desk.

I lean to the side and see what's written on the board behind him.
Stories about Teen Life

"I really put a lot of thought into this one and hope you guys like it" he says.

My body no longer feels tense and I actually feel my muscles begin to relax. I am able to actually sit back in my chair and slouch. I am actually able to breathe freely. I have slowly melted in warm drizzling honey in my seat. Sweet and tingly. The high walls of St. Ignatius Private High School are very preppy colors. One wall is all lined up with book shelves. Covered with leather bounded books. The wall behind Mr. Stevens is actually made entirely of one huge glass window. We call them the French windows because they reminded us of french doors. The cherry woods floors smelled freshly polished and the crown molding seemed to have been painted again. The intricate carvings along the door frames, walls, and ceiling seemed to pop more in the beautiful sunlight. Sometimes this school reminds me more of a castle rather than a place of learning. I looked back and also saw that they fixed the 4 stairs leading to the back wall where all of the books were. Finally.

"What's the assignment about?" Clary asked.

Mr. Stevens smiled and shook his head.

"If you would let me finish," he said and everyone laughed.

"Anyway, I wanted to let all of your imaginations run wild. But I have some requirements for your next story" he says.

The class groans and he chuckles. It's a light happy chuckle.

"I know, I know, evil Mr.Stevens and his requirements" he says standing tall to look at everyone.

"First no vampires, werewolves, or mythical creature of the sort" he says. The girls definitely freak out.

"There goes my dream of gorgeous vampires" Jeanine muttered.

"I guess this means no gorgeous reincarnations of Jacob from twilight" Kate says and all the girls giggle.

"Second," Mr.Stevens says "No extreme gore, fighting, or action especially extreme profanity and anything explicit" he says and his eyes trail across the room. He raises his eyebrows. "Boys"

"There go the beach babes" Toby says and Riley laughs.

Riley.

Riley.