"You. Arroway, I assume. Take the empty desk at the back. Moody, hand out the books," a man with unique facial hair —Mr. Phillips— ordered.
Silas retreated to the desk at the end of the boys' row of desks. His arrival had unsettled the even amount of pupils, resulting in him having no partner.
The teacher droned on in a monotonous voice for what seemed a lifetime. "Answer'd Lancelot, the chief of knights: 'And with what face, after my pretext made, shall I appear, O Queen, at Camelot, I before a King who honors his word, as if the word-"
"I think the entire poem is shameful," interrupted a golden-haired girl with a lilac ribbon. "They should be tarred and feathered."
"Josie?"
"Oh, Mr. Phillips, can't you skip to the part where Elaine's pure and true love turns most tragical?" the red-haired girl from the yard spoke had turned to face Josie, now facing the teacher. She spoke with deep adoration and longing, he might have believed she actually liked the poem.
"No. Do not interrupt me again."
Silas spent the time Mr. Phillips spoke by trying to remember he names of his classmates.
billy, moody, henry, josie, cole.
billy, moody, henry, josie, cole.
billy, moody, henry, josie,
"Cole? What have you got there?"
Silas suddenly remembered where he was and noticed the class looking towards the boy standing by a fallen pile of books. On his desk was the same sketchpad, though a vast ink void had invaded what he had been drawing.
"Cole!" shouted Mr. Phillips.
"My apologies, Mr. Phillips. I'll clean it up." Cole had a soft, quiet voice. It was unlike Josie's or Billy's, or even the romantic red-haired girl. He liked it.
Mr. Phillips shot a glance towards the sketchbook on Cole's desk. Understanding turned his dull gray eyes to a dark hatred.
"Are you doodling while I'm tirelessly dedicating my life to your education? Blackboard."
Cole sighed and bent to pick up his fallen books.
"Now!"
A gentle whisper broke over the classroom while Cole cautiously approached the blackboard. Silas's eyes returned to see what he had been drawing, though the ink pot that had been knocked over was suspiciously close to the end of Billy Andrew's ruler.
"You like to draw?" Mr. Phillips handed him a piece of chalk. "Draw that. Make sure it's legible."
Across the top of the blackboard, 'I WILL NOT DRAW IN CLASS' had been written in hard handwriting.
"Back to your readers! ' Yea, ' said the Queen, 'A moral child without the craft to rule, else he had not lost me . . . '"
Cole had rewritten the rule with a thousand curls of delicate cursive. Josie led the class in a chorus of hushed laughter.
Mr. Phillips turned to Cole and to the blackboard. Picking up the duster, he tore the beautiful sentence in two with a screeching line.
"Less flourish. You're gonna need room for fifty of those."
The class laughed once more, and in that moment, Silas despised them all.
♛ ✧ *✭˚･ﾟ✧*.
𝓥: cole deserves the world if you don't agree i'll fight you in charlottetown
YOU ARE READING
prince ♛ cole mackenzie
Romance❝your mouth's a constellation, the stars are in your eyes. i'll take a spaceship and try and go and find you ❞ ♛cole mackenzie x male oc ♚ ♚anne with an e♚ ♛spoilers!♛
