School Teacher (name to be changed)

A Story by Jade M.

I sat at my desk, beginning to grade the papers that my only senior class had handed in earlier this morning. A few students said hello to me as they walked into the classroom, taking their seats. I responded to them with a small smile and a wave, too distracted by my work to actually say anything to them. As I grimaced at a student’s poor grammar, a shadow fell over my desk.

“What is it that you need?” I said without looking up. A hand waved in front of my face and I sat back, finally glancing up at whoever felt bold enough to interrupt my work. I met the exquisite blue eyes of my favourite student, Winchester Romanos. He stood in front of my desk, his plump lips pulled up into a smile. Raising my brow, I said, “Do you not know better than to interrupt a teacher while she’s working, Mr. Romanos?” He ducked his head down bashfully, and his grin got wider. Then, he frowned.

“I just wanted to let you know that I had the new English teacher this morning,” he said, his baritone voice laced with disgust. “He’s a joke. I don’t even know why they hired him!” I chuckled at my student’s dislike of the newest addition to the faculty. I knew Winchester well, and I could tell that the teacher disconcerted him. Winchester had developed a love for English when he was a freshman, and still had that love two years later. At the beginning of the year, one of our English teachers passed away, and it had taken the school two months to replace him. Obviously, Winchester already had a beef with the new teacher, who had just started today.

“Ms. Drakos, it’s not funny,” Winchester said. “He’s making us read Twilight. Twilight! He wants us to understand the workings of the female mind, and he wants us to read Twilight!” He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and groaned. Frowning, I set aside my pile of papers and stood.

“Why don’t you take your seat, and we’ll discuss this with the rest of the class,” I said as I reached up to pat his shoulder. Winchester nodded and went to sit in his seat that was in the middle of the front row. I sat on my desk and adjusted my pencil skirt as I looked to see who was absent. One empty desk meant that my entire class was present, and I smiled.

“Well, it is nice to see that everyone is here today,” I teased. Most of the class smiled, and a short girl with an equally short bob started to speak, “Are we going to talk about the new English teacher?” A few of the girls that sat in the back squealed and started talking over one another. I raised my hand and they quieted down.

“Please, I would appreciate it if we spoke one at a time.” Winchester’s hand shot up, and I smiled.

“Mr. Romanos, you have already shared your opinion with me, why don’t we let some other people shares theirs as well,” I said. “You can speak after they’re finished.” Winchester growled quietly and folded his arms over his wide chest. A normally quiet girl called Allis Whitaker who sat in the back of the class raised her hand. I blinked, surprised, and gestured for her to speak.

“Ms. Drakos, the new teacher is so-“

“He’s hot,” a bolder, more popular girl, Brittany Serina, cut her off with a saucy grin. “For an older guy. I like him.” I bit my lip to hold back my grin. This news, I knew, would be the talk of the school for a while. Winchester turned towards the girl and glared at her.

“You only like him because you want to get in his pants,” (LOL) he hissed. Brittany folded her arms under her large breasts, pushing them up towards her chin, and stuck her tongue out at Winchester. I ignored the exchange, knowing not to get involved. I looked back to Allis, who was twisting her long cornsilk hair around her finger. She looked back at me, and I waved for her to continue.

“I just do not think he is going to be a good teacher,” she said quietly. “The first book he wants us to read is Twilight. I mean, I would be fine with Stephenie Meyer’s other work, but… Twilight?” Allis grimaced and shook her long bangs into her face, apparently finished voicing her opinion. Winchester turned to her, and gave her an approving nod, which made her blush. As Winchester looked to me, I gave him a look, and he tried not to smile.

“Miss Whitaker, I must say that I agree with you,” I declared. A few girls protested, claiming that Twilight was one of their favourites. I silenced them with a look. It was then that someone knocked on the door to the classroom. I watched as a tall boy who sat nearest the door reached over to open it. I smiled, still amused that he did not even have to get out of his seat. Looking to the door, I saw the medium-height figure of the Dean of the school, Isaac Amos, followed by a tall boy who stayed behind him.

“Ms. Drakos, how wonderful to see you!” His smile was wide, and stretched over his sun-tanned face. I cringed internally, and smiled a tight smile. I heard Winchester chuckle quietly, and I shot him a look. He bit his lip hard, trying to be quiet. Dean Amos didn’t notice as he continued to smile at me. I looked up to him.

“Hello, Dean Amos. It’s nice to see you outside of your office,” I quipped with a big smile. A student in the back, typically known for her expertise in video games, said loudly, “Hello Mr. Amos!” I bit back a grin at the girl, Devon, who always uses witty sarcasm, yet seems so nice. She had a wide smile, which Dean Amos returned.

“Well, hello, Miss Devon, it’s wonderful to see you,” he beamed. Devon sat back in her chair and grinned before turning to her laptop. Dean Amos turned to me, his fat stomach swinging around.

“Delphine, I actually have a new student for you,” Dean Amos stated, stepping aside. The tall boy behind him stepped forward, and my eyes widened slightly. The boy looked much older than he probably was, with short blonde hair and bright green eyes that were complimented by his green shirt. He had a strong Roman nose, and plump lips. He was about 6 foot 4, with a broad, well-muscled chest. He stepped towards me, and held out his hand.

“I’m Panteleimon Mikas, but you can call me Pan,” he spoke with a resonant baritone. I tilted my head to the side as I gripped his hand.

“Panteleimon Mikas,” I repeated. His blinked, surprised at my perfect pronunciation of his name. “I’m originally from Greece, I know how to pronounce Grecian names.” I smiled at him. “I’m Dr. Delphine Drakos, and I’ll be your Philosophy teacher for the rest of the year.” Pan smiled, and said, "Your name uses a lot of alliteration, Dr. Drakos." Chuckling, I stood to direct him into his seat, the desk next to Winchester.

“Everyone, please say hello to our new student, Panteleimon Mikas,” I said. “He has made it known that he would like to be called Pan.” Winchester sat straight up in his seat, his eyes wide.

“Mikas? Like, the new English teacher, Mr. Mikas?” he asked loudly to Pan. When Pan nodded, Winchester grumbled and sat back in his chair.

“Mr. Romanos, don’t be rude to the new teacher’s brother,” Dean Amos reprimanded. He fixed me with a hard glare and said, “Keep your students in line Dr. Drakos,” before turning towards the door and exiting the room. I rolled my eyes, and some of the students laughed. I smiled widely, and sat back onto my desk.

“So, Mr. Mikas, may I assume that your family is from Greece,” I inquired. Pan nodded with a smile.

“Yes, ma’am, we hail from Chalandri,” he stated. I raised my eyebrows, as I had never heard of anyone from that part of Greece who moved to America.

“First, please don’t call me ma’am. I’m only twenty-two, and I feel that I don’t inherit the honour of being a ‘ma’am’ quite yet,” I explained with a teasing smile. Winchester chuckled, and threw an amused grin at me, which I returned.

“You’re only twenty-two?” Pan asked in disbelief, his eyes wide. I inclined my head with a quiet laugh.

“I know, not many Philosophy teachers are this young,” I responded. “I graduated high school after only two years, and then got my doctorate at Harvard in four years. I’ve been working at this school for two years.” Pan’s face was full of astonishment.

“I had no clue that anyone could graduate that early from Harvard with a doctorate! How could you not be working somewhere prestigious, like a college?” Pan asked. Used to this question, I answered without hesitation, “My decision to teach juniors and seniors was i by my time at Jefferson Private School, in New Jersey. I absolutely hated that school. It was outrageously small, only about one hundred people. The kids in the school were rich, while I had gotten in on a scholarship because of my 5.0 GPA.” Pan’s jaw dropped at that, and I smiled. “Yes, I really was that smart. The kids there bullied me relentlessly, and I can definitively say that being called a teacher’s pet was the least abusive of the remarks that I had to hear whenever I was in the hallways.”