Mr. Evans

7

That Tuesday morning you woke up anxious. Chris had been keeping whatever he was planning a secret. You had asked him multiple times to tell you if it was dinner or not. He refused to tell you. He said it would spoil the surprise.

You walked into the classroom. There were a few other people, including Tom. You sat down in your usual spot. Tom happened to always pick the spot right next to you.

"How was the party?" You sparked a small conversion to save the awkward silence.

Tom shrugged, "it was eh, not what I wanted it to be."

I frowned, "I'm sorry to hear that, maybe you can throw another one."

Tom leaned back. His pink tongue poked out to lick his lips, "would you come to that one?"

You cringed, "oh I don't-

Tom cut you off, "please, for me?" Tom gave you sad puppy dog eyes and you cursed at yourself.

"I'm not making any promises, but if I have the time I will go, okay?"

Tom smirked, "I'll make sure I'll plan it on a Tuesday or Thursday," he winked.

You internally groaned. He was going to annoy you about that party til the day you died. Not that Tom wasn't a good guy. He was a great guy. He was surprisingly nice for a frat guy and really sweet. However, you couldn't decide if he just wanted to get in your pants and liked the challenge you gave him or if he truly wanted to be with you. It didn't matter anyway. Not when your boyfriend was walking through the doors. Yes, you were defining him as your boyfriend.

"Good morning class," he sat his bag down and grabbed his laptop. He had this tight maroon sweater on. Granted fall had already started, he traded the tight shirts in for the tight sweaters."

Your gaze was intense as you watched him. Your chin in your palms as he started talking. He was just talking about the paper he had pushed back so he could take you out. He was pushing it close especially since it was about to hit fall break. You honestly didn't think he cared so much about the class anymore.

You didn't care about the class anymore. It was an elective class anyway. What you did care about was the fact that you wouldn't see him in class after the semester ended. You were in a completely different department from him. While you weren't sure why he taught history since he had a knack for everything else. He liked space, he said he was a theater kid, and he was more aligned with the political aspect of life. So, you never figured out why he chose history out of all the topics.

"Mr. Evans," you heard Sophie purr.

Chris looked up from the papers he was organizing, "how may I help you miss Wallace?" he looked disinterested by the looks of it.

Even so, you couldn't help the slight anger that surfaced when she batted her eyelashes and leaned forward into him.

"I know you said we can't do extra credit, but sir I could really use some help, I don't know what to do for your papers."

"Sophie, you have a good grade in this class if I can remember," Chris put his hands on his hips.

Sophie rolled her eyes, "It's not good enough, please Mr. Evans, I'm begging you."

"I'm always down to tutor if you need help Sophie," You stepped in with a sickly sweet smile on your face.

Sophie scoffed, "What's your grade in the class?"

"An A minus," you smirked, "what's yours?"

"A B," her eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms and turned back to Chris, "so will you help me, professor."