Benedict and reader : Choir Girl

Caught Drawing in Class

I chained my bike to the rack and pulled my hood from my sweat shirt over my head. I hope everyone forgot about what had happened this summer, I guess I will have to find out. I walked into the glass doors of the school with what felt like a brick in my stomach. Oh yeah, people still remembered what happened. I could already hear the poisonous whispering and laughter as I entered the lobby of the school.
It wasn't fair, women complain about how ashamed they are of it and then make fun of other girls who did it. Is there something I missed?
I didn't wait for the bell to start class, I immediately retreated in the choir room for the peace and quiet. I was so elated and relieved that it was my first class of the day. Thank God. Singing was my therapy and I couldn't wait to see the new choir teacher. Mrs. Leeland had quit her job and decided to teach another class. I miss her already.
That woman was fire and brimstone to the idiot meat head jocks that infested every class. It wasn't fair that she had to leave and those football throwing, cavemen had to stay. To think that every one of them gave her high blood pressure from the way they acted, it was nonsense.
I took out my sketchbook and started doodling upon the page to occupy my mind. Not only that, but to distract myself from what was going to be said about me for the rest of my Junior and Senior year of High School, I wasn't a virgin anymore. Of course I am ashamed of it. I didn't feel like it was a right of passage to Womanhood, I felt dirty and tainted for life. So why did every girl I ever talked to speak of it as the right thing to do? I started drawing the eyes of my creation, intent yellow eyes full of anger.
Her long black hair blew in the wind and I smeared the pencil lead to make her skin look a pale gray. She was the wrath inside me that so desperately wanted to expel itself from me through my fingertips. I sat back and observed what I had managed to finish, not noticing there was a shadow over me.
"That is a lovely picture." A low brassy voice startled me in my seat. I turned to look at the owner of such a dignified voice, to see a tall man with dark brown curls towering over me. His blue eyes had a friendly presence and his lips looked as if they were artistically carved into his face. His sharp cheekbones and English nose made him look like sculpture in the light against his pale skin.
"T-thanks." I uttered, still shocked that someone had actually snuck up on me so silently. Not many people could sneak up on me like he did. He smiled at me and dimples appeared on his face, "You're welcome. Are you in first period choir?"
"Yes, I am. My name is (y/n). You must be the new teacher." I smiled up at him. He nodded and sat next to me, "My name is Mr. Timothy. You can call me Mr. Tim." He looked back at my drawing, "May I?" He pointed to it. I nodded, "Of course."
Mr. Timothy looked at it closer to observe what he thought it was communicating, "She's upset." He started. My heart gave one hard beat against my chest, as if I was stabbed with a shard of glass.
"The yellow eyes against the colorless skin, it seems as if the only innocence left is in her mind and its being expelled from her fingertips, vanishing. She is no longer the image of good. The gold forming into ash."
"Wow. That is a spot on observation."
"I love art. I took an art class in college. It was my minor. Art is the deepest form of expression. Its good for the soul."
"I agree wholeheartedly." I smiled at him. Mr. Tim was friendly. I just hope he has an iron lung for I knew that he would start screaming at the unruly students that were about to walk in. The bell rang and the students started shuffling in, looks like I spoke too soon...or thought too soon. Mr. Tim stood from his chair and walked down to the front of the class. He looked at them, observing their actions before speaking.
"Hello class-" He was diverted to the rambunctious noise that the jocks were making already. He cleared his throat and rose his voice over them, "Excuse me!"
His deep voice silenced them, "The bell has rang and I suggest that you keep quiet over there. This is choir not a pep rally."
The jocks gave him dirty looks but he ignored it, "I am your new teacher Mr. Timothy. Mrs. Leeland has decided to relieve herself of her duty to this school for her own personal reasons. But don't worry, she has filled me in on who are the good listeners and who are not." He took a breath and gave each and every one of us a good harsh look, "You may have gotten rid of Leeland but I am here to stay and I will not be lenient with you. If you interrupt class, you will be booted. If you do not follow the songs right and put in your own rendition of Amazing Grace." Some of the kids snickered.
"You will also be removed from my class. Refusal to sing will get you a much more embarrassing punishment that I have come up with myself. That will be revealed when I find the first victim." he rubbed his hands together menacingly and the class snickered again.
"You will not make a fool of me, remember that. No matter how hard you try, you will end up looking like the fool when I am done with you. Any questions?"
The class was silent, "Does anyone want to leave before we move on?" no one moved. He straightened and looked at the class very satisfied.
"Now, the way I teach is a bit different than your previous teacher's. Today, I am giving you an assignment that will be done in two weeks. You will write your own lyrics to a song of your choice."
A girl with red hair raised her hand, "How will we sing it without music?" she asked.
"That is a very good question. What is your name?" he asked smiling at her in a friendly manner.
"Ingrid."
"Well, Ingrid. I can play by ear very well, and if you struggle with the tune, you can always come to me and ask for help."
"Okay."
A Jock raised his hand, "We can write about anything?"
"Yes, anything that inspires you." he told him.
"Girls inspire me. Heh. If you know what I mean." A roar of laughter fell upon the corner of the room where the football players decided to sit. Mr. Tim just crossed his arms and looked at him for a moment, "What is your name?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at the boy with blonde hair and tan skin.
"Ben Dover." The jocks snickered a bit.
Mr. Tim laughed a bit, "Well, females inspire the best of us men. I hope you can write it without degrading the image of women. If you can't, you'd be better off bending over so I can boot you out of my class."
The Jock's smug smile faded and he stood, "You're a Jackass." he spoke up. Mr. Tim just shook his head.
"What? I am a Jackass for figuring out your joke instead of falling for it? I've heard that name a dozen times before. Get some new material."
I liked this teacher already! I was loving how this class was going. The jocks were finally getting a taste of their own medicine. The boy was now seething with anger. He immediately picked up his stuff and left the classroom. Mr. Tim looked at the rest of the football team that decided to be part of the class, "Anyone else want to join him?" The jocks shook their heads.
"Good." He returned his attention to the rest of the class, "Alright. Now I am going to take you all individually to assess your singing, and yes you will be displaying your voice in front of the class." The class moaned. "I don't want to hear it, if you didn't want to sing in front of people, you should've stayed in the shower." he overlooked the class. "Ladies first."
He started calling the girls one by one to the piano and each of them would sing the same song. Mr. Tim would label them as Alto, Second Soprano or Soprano. My nerved started to fray thread by thread as each girl descended the risers to sing, "Miss (fn/ln)."
I felt as if my heart fell out my butt when he called my name, I blushed beat red and stood hesitantly, descending the steps slowly. Mr. Tim could see the fright upon my face. I stopped at the piano and took deep, slow breaths. I looked at Mr. Tim and he gave me a reassuring smile. The piano started playing and I started to sing quietly. I could hear the whispers getting louder and the laughter growing stronger. I gasped, keeping the emotion from showing in my voice. Mr. Tim stopped the music and spoke over the class, "Enough. All of you. All of this time spent on trying to humiliate someone when you could be writing your songs."
I lowered my head and let my long (h/c) hair form curtains to hide my red face. The class shuffled out when the bell rang and I went to join them, "Not so fast milady. You still have to sing for me."