See Me After Class

questions & answers

imagine mr. styles asks the class a question, and a student gives an answer that honestly was not relevant in any sense, but mr. styles doesn't want them to feel dumb so he kind of just makes this face and says, "well, you're not wrong..."

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there really is no words to describe how nervous i was to be back in class on monday. a small and unreasonable fear had grown within me, making me afraid that our delicate moment of bonding would be soon forgotten. was it wrong that i didn't want a normal student/teacher relationship? friendship couldn't have possibly gotten him fired. but, if it could have, was i really going to be selfish enough to ignore the risks? i had nothing to lose, but mr. styles could have been left with nothing.

i wandered through the bleak, white painted, brick hallways without purpose. getting to seventh period was approaching at a fast pace, and i was trying to slow it down. sadly, i was powerless against the rotating of the earth and the progression of the day. the one moment that did seem to move at a sluggish pace was lunch, and i found myself alone for every second of it. motivation to write had begun to expire, leaving me bored along with the feeling of being deserted.

when the bell that kept me from room 202 finally rung, my feet had carried me at an alarmingly fast speed. all of the worry that had been eating away at me dissipated and was replaced by an anxious feeling. i had to find where this relationship stood. i wouldn't have been able to move on until i knew what this was.

his room was wide open, and i heard him joking around with some of the students inside. i stepped through the door, hit by a wave of cold air conditioning that caused goosebumps spread all the way up my arms

"good morning, wesley," mr. styles greeted in a friendly tone.

my mind went in fifty different directions as i replied and found my seat. did that mean anything, or was i overanalyzing everything. looking everywhere except for the front of the room, my eyes studied random the details of items around me. mr. styles taught in a history classroom for the seventh and eighth periods, and i had wondered if he wished that he'd had a classroom of his own to decorate in tacky, inspirational posters and quotes from works of literature.

another girl then walked into the room, and mr. styles said, "good morning. what was your name again?"

a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth when the realization hit me that my name was among the very few that he had already learned. i watched the room fill up and heard greetings being given as more names were repeated. class began and his behaviour was nothing other than ordinary; no trace of saturday revealing itself. right away, mr. styles handed back both diagnostics that were taken only seven days prior.

i remember thinking 'how the hell did he grade over one hundred students' reading and writing diagnostics.' he had spent saturday in the city and still managed to go through them, leaving corrections that had clearly taken close analyzing. his unique dedication to his work was admirable, and i could tell that i wasn't the only person who thought so.

everyone began to pass their reading choices to the front where they were collected. i studied the lanky brunette boy as he walked up to each row and added their papers to the stack in his hands. for some reason, i noticed three rings that adorned his hands, along with a small, faded cross tattoo.

clearing his throat, he spoke up and in that same slow, rough, british accent announced, "now that you all have made your selections, we are going to be spending the next few class periods conferencing and discussing them. these are not books that we are going over together as a class, but are individual assignments. and you will be writing one to two essays on different topics relating to them. each book has prompts specific to it. this is not a part of your classwork; there will be other work to do as well. if this is more than you expected, then i will write you a pass to guidance and you can drop this class immediately. any questions?"

no voices spoke up, the only sound in the room was coming from the vents that were pumping out cold air. he waited patiently, clearly noticing that some students were contemplating his offer. a few hands slowly appeared, taking the chance to save their grade point averages. like he promised, they were sent on their way with little post-it notes that bared his signature.

"and with that, we have what i hope to be our roster for the remainder of the year, and i'd like to get to know you all a little better. as i meet with each of you individually, you will be filling out a small q & a sheet. along with this paper is another that has my own personal answers to the same questions,"

curious, i ignored my questionnaire and read through mr. styles' answers. under hobbies, what a surprise, he included 'telling knock knock jokes'. i tried to erase these new details of him from my mind, wanting to know them from experience.

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a/n

short and late and i'm sorry and i changed some slight details bc my plot outline wasn't consistent so they won't be having their little meetings for another chapter or two

i'm seeing 5SOS tomorrow and i'm so excited and DMD was beautiful wowowow i haven't been on in so long i'm sorry omfg

xx. ashton