05| Right In Front Of Me

JULIE

I come out of the car as I kiss my dad goodbye. I make my way to my classroom and find my dear cousin Blue standing at the door. I spread my arms wide as I welcomed her for a hug. She jumped in my embrace and hugged me tightly. Her strawberry scent meets my nostrils and I smile unconsciously. 

"It's good to see you smiling, Jules," she sighs, pulling away. My arms let go of her figure and I scan her outfit which I find pretty later. 

She always dresses up like an angel. Or I say just like Lolita. She is wearing a white knee-length dress with red small heart patterns. There is a pearl necklace wrapped around her neck and black shoes on her feet. I wonder if she is not into old men. 

"Thanks, you know I just can't stay sad all the damn time," I say as we walk into the classroom. The sound of my classmates' shouting falls in my ears and I turn my eyes and see that my classmates are playing with fun by throwing and catching something. 

Jeremy is also one of them. That thing comes flying to him which he easily catches. Duster, as I look at the object in his hands. He laughs and then throws it in another direction. It lands on a girl's head and she yells at him but they shrug it off, ignoring the girl's bark. They start playing again. 

I make my way to the bench which is my favorite. It is situated in the last set of rows and I mostly sit on the bench which is near the windows so I can ignore the bullshit teachers talk about me. 

I know I get distracted easily but I do not like it when they ignore my grades just because of it. So, I sit near the windows and look out at the sky, watching the birds flying and the wind swaying. 

"Rishi, stop it!" 

"Yes, just stop it! You're hitting me again and again!" 

"Whoa, calm down! You aren't dead, you should be grateful to me!" 

The class laughs while I stare at everyone in boredom. They start throwing the object again while I watch the match live. Some of them yell at the boys but they laugh to ignore them all. It makes me laugh sometimes when Malcolm irritates Nicole and her gang. 

They do not share any enmity but Malcolm's ultra-jolly nature does not spare anyone. Not even me. He can joke with anyone. Even me. 

"Julie, you can't sit peacefully!" He yells behind Nicole and I can see her jaw is clenched but she cannot do anything except watch Malcolm. 

He throws the duster in my direction and I catch it effortlessly. 

"Good! Give it to me now!" He yells and I get up to aim at him but Rishi pushes him aside. 

"No, give it to me, Julie!" 

"No, Jules, I'm your best friend!" Jeremy interrupts and holds his hand but once again, he is being pushed aside by Tyson. I do not waste a moment because I am annoyed by their constant quarrel over a duster, so I throw it at them, having my seat then silently. 

I do not see who caught the duster but as Jeremy screams like he won the ICC World Cup, I steal a glance at the crowd of childish boys and see that the duster is in Jeremy's hands. He runs to his desk and throws the duster but it goes out of everyone's reach and finally is about to land on the closed door of our classroom when it gets open and a hand catches it effortlessly. 

Silence engulfs us like it is someone's funeral. Well, I won't lie but I think someone is going to die in a few minutes because the person who is standing at the door is none other than our brand new Accountancy professor Mr. Taylor. 

Students start to whisper into each other's ears while Mr. Taylor makes his appearance even clearer by walking to his usual place — which is right in front of the whiteboard, beside his desk on which he puts his stuff, along with the duster. 

"What? Aren't you going to greet me?" He asks, his voice coming out smooth like some velvet and as deep as a ditch. 

The class, as if gaining its lost senses, vocals out to greet him. I greet as well, my voice has mixed with my classmates. 

"Hm, morning," he says. He folds his arms on his chest, his muscles flexing softly as I get the view accidentally. He leans back, getting comfortable and it is then I notice his attire before beholding his perfectly gelled hair. It shines so bright that I won't be surprised if we get to know that the whole bottle of Vaseline is the secret behind his shiny raven hair. 

Like always, he is clean, and even at this distance, I can inhale the faint fragrance of fresh body wash emerging from him. I know it is his scent because it hits differently than the boys in my class. 

He smells like sandalwood and wet soil. He makes me feel like I am in the midst of a forest. I can forget the entire world, this is how strong, manly, and amazing he smells. 

Along with that, when my eyes lower on him, I see he is wearing a blue polo shirt. His legs are covered by a set of khaki trousers. His shoes shine brightly and it makes me glance down at mine. 

Even though I am wearing a brand new pair of sneakers, they do not shine as bright as his Oxford shoes. 

"So, I think I missed the FIFA World Cup, no?" He quirks his brow, scanning the classroom through his dark eyes. 

"We're going to have fun," Blue whispers and I bite my lip to prevent myself from laughing. I watch Mr. Taylor doing his work and suddenly, his gaze drops on me, becoming intense all of a sudden. Or I think it is just my delusion. 

I swallow and look down, unable to bear the intensity, and hear him saying, "Jeremy Bradley was the man of the match!" 

As much as I want to sigh, I can see Blue's shoulders trembling because I know she is trying to control herself from bursting into laughter. Her brother's insult is her entertainment, after all. I wonder what makes her so delighted when teachers mortify Jeremy. 

Just like Blue, some girls, especially Nicole and her gang snigger like this are the funniest thing ever happening in our class. 

No, I remember which is funnier than this. When Nicole's friend Suzanne spit out her bubblegum accidentally in Nicole's head while laughing hard. The whole class started coughing after laughing hysterically. And Nicole could not even get that bubblegum out of her hair and ran home crying right after the first lecture. 

When I glance at Jeremy, I catch him looking down and mumbling something while closing his eyes. 

Oh, he is praying. But what is the use of asking God now? I do not think anyone can save him from Mr. Taylor except Mr. Taylor himself. The thought makes me laugh and I palm my face to hide my face and laugh under my breath. 

"Now receive your respective award," upon hearing him, Jeremy's nervous self holds a bit of confidence with confusion. He abruptly looks up, his eyes shining for an unknown reason and he utters something so unexpected. 

"Sir, really?" 

"Yes, please! Go outside and listen to my lecture standing there," he says and the class burst into laughter,  along with Blue. 

I shake my head when Jeremy even moves to leave the class without even protesting. 

"I didn't punish your bag, Mr. Bradley. Only you have to leave." The class laughs again. I know he is going to watch something on YouTube so he can pass the time.  

He sighs and leaves the class. "Close the door," he commands and the class watches him carefully. Jeremy frowns and stops at the door. 

"How can I listen to you, then, sir?" He questions innocently and I wonder if he is not lying. Jeremy is ready to listen to him while standing outside? But this boy never took his studies seriously, if I remember our past years. 

"That's up to you, Mr. Bradley. If you have passion, you can even move a mountain from its place. I am sure you can definitely hear me through the closed door." I can sense the sarcasm in it. I know there is amusement speaking through him. Mr. Taylor is not that innocent. 

"Okay, sir," says Jeremy as he exits the class. 

Mr. Taylor moves his attention to us then. He scans the class once again and his gaze stops on me. I unconsciously shift in my place but when he calls my name, I feel my body becoming stiff. 

"Sir?" My voice comes out barely above a whisper. I did not do anything. Or did he catch me throwing the duster at Jeremy and his friends? 

"Get your bag and come here. Sit right in front of me," along with the delivery of his command, he gestures at the bench placed right in front of him. 

I gape at him, not getting the motive behind it. Usually, teachers call the students who are weak in their subjects so they can pay attention without being disturbed. Or when a teacher is tired of handling a gang of backbenchers gossiping and having lunch behind, they call the most talkative and naughty member of that gang. 

I cannot believe this is happening to me. 

Why? Because he thinks I am a weak student or because I gossip with Blue or because I keep chewing my gum? If these are the reasons, this is unfair. Does he hate me already? 

"Ms. Dawson?" He calls again. 

"Sir?" I say absentmindedly. 

"Did you hear me?" 

"Y-Yes, sir," I do not know why I am stuttering. 

"Then please, hurry up and change your seat. We have got a class to start," he mocks calmly and I nod, but not before asking what was bothering me. 

"But why, sir?" 

As if thrilled by my audacity to ask back, he cocks his brow but answers nonetheless, "So I can pay extra attention to you. I see you get distracted easily, and I don't want my students to look anywhere but the whiteboard. Now please?" 

I get up, holding my bag. I walk to the bench and sit there nervously. I am nervous for an unknown reason. It is not like he will kill me on this bench. 

"Thank you," he murmurs and then starts teaching. I do not think it would work on me because now with studying this closely, I can hear the sound of the marker jotting against the board. It disturbs me. Everybody around me is dead silent. I can easily listen to the thuds of his footsteps as he walks and starts explaining to us. The marker speaks, my foot shakes due to anxiety, my mind starts wandering around and my hand stops the pen between my fingers as I quit noting everything. 

He turns around, speaking. He writes something on the board but I am so distracted by his strong cologne that I can barely think about other things. Mr. Taylor has a different effect. I never noticed someone's cologne this much. I do not even know if any of my professors wear cologne. 

"Ms. Dawson!" He calls and I flinch all of a sudden, uttering, "Sir?" 

"Stop shaking your foot; it's disturbing everyone here," he tells me and it makes me realize that it was indeed loud. Especially when nobody made even a noise. It was a pin-drop silence anyway. 

"I'm sorry." He ignores me and begins teaching again. 

I sigh as I look down. My tooth sank into my bottom lip and I regret everything right now. I am unable to pay attention once again and it fears me more than anything because Accountancy is the only subject that I find hard to study alone. 

After that, no matter how hard I tried, I could not concentrate throughout the class. I keep chewing on the back of my pen, desperately wanting the class to get over so I can rush out. Time flies by but I do not know the feeling of it until someone calls my name. 

My body shakes uncontrollably at the sound. My wide blue eyes stare at the man standing right in front of me and the look on his face is very much serious. I cannot comprehend but it feels like he is… angry with me. 

"Get up," he commands and I do it with my nervous self. He stands straight and narrows his eyes while folding his arms on his chest. 

"Where are your notes?" He asks and I quickly look down to grab my notebook to show him. But as soon as my eyes are on the damn blank pages of my notebook, I gasp loudly and glare down at it. 

How did it happen? I thought I was noting everything while looking at the door. How could I think of myself as intelligent as Albert Einstein or any other scientist?

"So you didn't note anything, hm?" 

I nibble on my bottom lip, looking down at the desk. My eyes squeeze shut and I pray under my breath. Now I realize Jeremy's situation. 

"I'm sorry," I murmur, now honestly regretting everything from the depth of my heart. I just hope he will let go of it and forgive me. 

"Why didn't you note?" So he won't let the matter go, getting the thing in my head, I shake my head softly. 

"Did you understand about Redem—no, do you know what I was teaching?" The fault in my stars is so deep and bright, I realize it now. I do not think he would let me go this easily. I think I committed a sin by zoning out. And the devil before me is mocking me. 

I secretly raise my eyelashes and peek at the board, catching today's topic. 

"Redemption On Debentures," I say, quickly looking down after that. 

"I know you're so intelligent, Ms. Dawson. So much that everything has been printed and recorded in your mind, hasn't it?" 

My classmates snigger, whispering into each other's ears. 

"Are you spacing out once again?" 

"No, sir!" I answer him quickly, not wishing to receive more of his insult-sticking arrows on my way. 

"Then why did you space out back then?!" He bellows so loudly that I think the entire world has heard him. I can hear some faint gasps and then others snickering at me. And about me, I jerked on my spot so badly that I would have surely stumbled back if the chair was not standing behind me. 

"Didn't I clear one thing that I do not bear the students who don't focus on what I teach?" He yells again, which makes me nod my head urgently. I can hardly make a movement, this is how terrified he got me just by a single bellow of his. 

"Look at me!" He commands and I swallow hard before doing the same. 

"And listen to me carefully, Ms. Dawson. As I cleared everything in my first class, I'm not gonna avoid your mistakes again." I stare at him wide-eyed when I hear him. Am I going to get in serious trouble? 

"I expect your parents at 10 AM, tomorrow morning," after saying that, he stares at me emotionlessly while I gape at him. What does he think of me? Am I a primary class student? 

"Sir, my dad—" and to interrupt me, the bell rings and Mr. Taylor steps back to reach his desk. He starts gathering his stuff while I watch him dumbfounded. 

"We'll continue the topic tomorrow, class," he says and I quickly rush to him as he starts walking to the door. 

"Sir," I call him and he hums while opening the door. I stay behind him, ignoring Jeremy who gives me a sympathetic look. He is such a douche. 

"Please, don't do this. I mean, I mean I'm not some primary student," I try to explain myself, not realizing if I am choosing the wrong words. 

"Your behavior says otherwise, Ms. Dawson. Besides, my decision is final. I want to meet your father tomorrow morning. Now, excuse me, and attend your next class." 

I stop following him and sigh audibly. He is serious. Like really? I am not a small child about whom he will complain to my father. I do not want my father to be embarrassed in front of him for such a minor mistake of mine. 

I just spaced out! I did not do adultery, come on!