uniform ↠ h.s ON HOLD

f i v e

the official harbeth encounter and weird old lady. yuppie!

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Without even thinking twice, I pushed the door open and walked into the room. Right after the door shut behind me, the bell rang loud through the halls.

The room was gigantic. This one was much bigger than the last class, with higher ceilings and a huge blackboard. "Lucky girl, you are." Mr. Styles said to me and winked. I could feel my cheeks turning a bright shade of crimson as I turned to find a seat.

"Alright class, for today I'm going to be handing you all a French dictionary and I want you to find all these words that I've written down in English." He said once I was seated.

I rose my hand and Mr. Styles pointed to me, giving me permission to speak.

"Sir, don't you think that'll be difficult for those in the class that don't understand or speak the language?" I asked and his eyebrows rose, every other girl in the class kept quite and stared at me.

He grabbed a stack of about ten dictionary's and started dropping them on peoples desks, walking down my isle and letting a thick French dictionary land on my table, nearly squishing my fingers.

"Do you speak the language... miss?"

"My name is Elizabeth, and I do." I said back at him picking up the dictionary and placing it back onto the top of his decreasing pile.

"Well, Elizabeth..." he began. "You speak the language, so you don't worry about the others in this class.. If they have trouble with their work, they can address me."

"Yes sir." I said and placed the back end of my pencil into my mouth, biting down on it as his eyes watched my mouth close around the wood.

He just turned his face and walked down the rest of my row of tables, handing each student a dictionary to complete this task.

When he was finished, he walked back to the front of the class and grabbed a piece of chalk. He began to write down about 25 words on the board which we had to find the translation too.

I immediately started writing down the words in French, rather than the English ones he had spelled out on the board. Within about ten minutes I was finished writing down all the words.

I grabbed my piece of paper and stood from my chair, walking over to Mr. Styles desk, I let the paper float down in front of him and he pushed his glasses up his nose.

Turning his neck up to face me, he licked his dry lips amused and grasped onto the single sheet of paper to read my work. I watched as his eyes darted smoothly over each line of writing.

The corners of his lips slipped up into a small smirk and he placed the paper back down, eyeing me carefully as I shifted on my feet.

"Wonderful work, Elizabeth." I smiled largely, watching him as he signed the bottom of the page and placed it aside.

"Is there anything else I should do in the mean time, sir?"

He placed his hand beneath his chin, eyes moving up to the ceiling as his other hand rose to remove his reading glasses. "Yes, actually." He picked up a slip of paper and handed it to me. "I already notified the librarian, but I need these novels in a French copy. She has about twenty of them ready for me, if you'd be a doll and get them."

My face instantly became hot at the nickname. No previous teacher of mine had referred to me as a doll and it felt oddly charming. "Yes, of course."

"Thank you, Elizabeth."

"Anytime, Sir." I replied and began walking towards the door. When I'd left the room, I realized I had absolutely no clue where the library even was.

I didn't want to walk back in and ask, because that would've seemed dumb and I didn't want Mr. Styles to get angry at me. So I just followed signs on the wall that lead me straight there.

It surprisingly wasn't too far from Mr. Styles class and you could definitely tell it was a library. It had large black doors that slid open like a closet with stained glass windows mirroring the edges.

When I walked in, it was dead silent in there, which was to be expected. The book shelves went as high as the ceiling with several ladders placed. I walked in with the small slip of paper in hand, head twirling around to capture very inch of this foreign new space I knew I'd love.

"Hello, darling.. Can I help you with something?" The frail voice of an old woman startled me, causing my head to turn sideways in shock.

"Hello," I smiled, handing her the folded piece of paper. "Mr. Styles sent me to get some books."

"Ah, that Mr. Styles..." she muttered to herself, grabbing the paper and inspecting it carefully. "Very demanding that young man."

"Do you know how old he is?" My question had shocked me, I didn't know what had come over me to ask such a thing but she simply chortled. Beginning to wobble down to the front desk, she motioned for me to follow.

She picked up a few books off the desk and began placing them in a box. "One must never tell her secrets," Her long finger nails scraped against the table as she picked up each individual book.

"It's no secret, ma'am." She didn't turn to face me and continued packing the books into a cardboard box that she clearly thought would be much easier for me to handle, which she was correct.

"What do you mean?" She asked. I looked at her as she finished placing the last books into the box, her hand reaching for the flaps and closing it shut.

"His age," she handed me the box and I nodded, grabbing it, my arms slumped slightly at the new weight. "He must only be in his late twenties?"

She shrugged, winking at me and grabbing hold of my shoulder, she led me towards the exit of the library.

I tried to pull my body back but she kept pushing me towards the door. "Wait!" I stalled her. I was already half way out the library when she kindly stopped and huffed.

"What is it?" Her tone was deeper now, almost annoyed at my curiosity.

I bit my lip, adjusting the box in my arms before asking. "What time does the library close?" A small smile grew on her lips at my question, the woman was probably thankful it wasn't about my professor again.

"There is no closing time, my dear. But there is a curfew," with that she winked again, pushing me out the rest of the way and closing the door. I turned back to see her frame walking away through the tinted, foggy glass.