38. House

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The incessant tick-tocking of a clock blares through the almost silent classroom, mocking the person who is sitting alone at the moment.

In other words: me.

There are still five minutes till class starts and everyone else is either chattering away in the hallways or in the washrooms probably mentally preparing themselves for another two hours.

Now is supposed to be history class but Mr Jennings hasn't come yet. He is usually in his class all the time. I wouldn't be surprised if I found a sleeping bag hidden somewhere under his table.

My next class is with Allison; it's chemistry afterwards. I've already seen her during lunch today, along with Ethan. Even since the trip to the Ingrams, I find myself growing more and more comfortable with them. Though, Allison was less vivacious today. Ethan earlier told me in English that her parents are being a bit more ignorant towards her than usual.

There hasn't been even a single sentence that passed between them for almost half a month now.

The bell buzzes throughout the room, resulting in the swarm of students suddenly coming out of the door.

Honestly, I don't get why do they not just make a qeue to come in. It'll save everyone from the unnecessary hassle and maybe cause a little less noise.

Putting my hand under my chin, I glance over at the crowd emerging.

A boy with unusually touseled jair swaggers into the class. He's in proper uniform, but he still has an over-confidant air about him. He highfives one of his friends before sliding in the seat next to me.

He isn't supposed to sit here. Somebody else does.

I think I would have noticed someone sitting so close to for almost half a year now. A girl called Tania sits next to me in this class. She doesn't bother much to talk herself and the both of us have this unsaid mutual pact to not bother each other.

One of the boy's friends whispers something into his ear, making him snicker before he turns around and faces me.

He holds out a hand before bursting out:
"Hi the name's Trevor, Ian Trevor."

I'm getting an uneasy feeling by this guy.

"You honestly think you can copy James Bond, don't you," I say with a raised brow.

His smirk falters but he quickly recovers before he says,
"Excuse me?"

Now, you're up for civilties.

Wait, Ian Trevor...
The guy with whom Ethan had a fight.

Why is he talking to me? I never even knew that he was in my class before today.

I hear fast footsteps striding into the classroom and look up to find a man, much younger than Mr Jennings, walking towards the teacher's desk.
He puts his laptop case on the table and a strident clap echos throughout the class, drawing everyone's attention to the stranger.

He looks like he is in his early thirties or late twenties. His formal suit is the same colour as his skin tone: warm beige.

Why does he seem familiar?

Silence reigns supreme at seeing a new face in the class.
The man turns towards the board and pulls out a board marker to write something on it.

Only the sound of scribbling on the board echoes.

"First and foremost: Good afternoon, everybody." He turns around so that we can see what's written on the board.
"I am Mr Yousuf Alam, your substitute history teacher."

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