Damaged

2 | help

He clears his throat and grabs the pen top of the desk, running a hand through his dark hair. My eyes follow his every move, captivated by the man in front of me.

"When I call your name please say 'here', okay?" He looks down at the paper, his long index finger on the first name of the page.

He's British?

"Jessica Andrews," He reads without looking upwards. Definitely British.

"Here," the girl replies.

"Matt Bennet."

"Here."

"Julia Black."

"Here," a girl says from the back of the classroom. I know my name is coming up and I touch the indented desk with my index finger as I wait for it.

"Luna Crawford," He says and my eyes immediately look up. He's glancing at me again with those captivating eyes, the same intrigued furrow in his brows as before.

"Here." I say, my curious gaze glued on him. His eyes linger on my face for a few extra seconds, observing me once again. His jaw ticks and something in his eyes visibly change as I watch him.

He goes back to the register and continues calling out names, and I can't pay attention to what he's saying anymore.

I've only been away from school for a year and he wasn't a teacher back then. If he was I would have definitely known. He must be fairly new in school, but he must have started teaching when I was away because I notice that the other students are familiar with him while i'm not. And there's the fact that he's British. I wonder why he chose a small town in the outskirts of New York to live in when he could have taught in the big city.

My thoughts are interrupted when he raises from his chair and turns his back to us. He grabs the chalk from his desk and starts writing in the blackboard.

"For the students that I didn't have the pleasure of teaching last year, my name is Mr. Clarke. Welcome to AP English," He gives a little smile, flashing straight white teeth.

"This year we'll read one of William Shakespeare's most famous plays, Hamlet." He grabs a copy of the play from his desk and continues talking, "And before all of you start moaning about it, I have to tell you that this certain play is truly exciting. It deals with themes such as revenge, life, death and madness, and it has loads of action-filled scenes."

I watch as at least three people turn around to look at me after Mr. Clarke said the word madness, and I try to ignore the feeling in my chest. I forgot how the people in high school are assholes, and I roll my eyes at how infantile they are.

I continue looking at Mr Clarke as he explains the start of the play and gives us some context about it. I hang on to every word he says, his accent making the words flow beautifully out of his mouth.

I start paying attention to his mouth as he talks about the play in his hands. His lips are full and red and his bottom lip is slightly bigger, making him look like he's constantly pouting. There's light stubble on his cheeks and chin which defines his angular jaw and cheekbones even more, carving them out. His face is masculine yet delicate at the same time, and his emerald eyes hold an intensity that i've never seen before in my life.