Behind Teacher's Doors (TeacherXTeacher)

Have A Nice Weekend

"Come on people."

The class was dead silent. Like a zombie Apocalypse, nobody muttered a word.

Robert sighed, "really, guys? How long have we been going over this?" His eyes roamed over the classroom, looking for someone to pick on. "Ah, Donald, thank you for volunteering. What is the difference between Rock and Classical music?"

The surprised teen widened his eyes. "I didn't volunteer, sir."

"I know you didn't. But that phone your hiding under the table seems to be more interesting then I am."

Donald frowns, "phone?"

The teacher raises his eyebrows. "I can get the head teacher over here if you want."

The phones disappears into the boys pocket again. "Sorry, Mr Foster."

"Uh-huh." He claps his hands. "Anyway, since you all have happened to suddenly become brainwashed, I'll tell you the answer." Robert perches on the edge of his desk, legs swinging.

"It's really not that difficult. My five year old son could probably answer this..."

Silence.

"Okay... well, you watch people like... Sinatra, yeah? Frank Sinatra. Try to imagine him in leather gear with black make up on and tattoos."

The class mumbles, making faces. "Yeah, exactly, you can't. Then you see... You guys heard of AC/DC? Now, imagine them in a bunch of ironed suits and ties with their hair slicked back.

What I'm trying to say here is that the differences between these two genres of music are obvious."

"So, AC/DC actually sing classical music?" William, a boy from the back, asks. The class burst into laughter.

Robert blinks. "... Oh, William..." He looks to another student. "Dylan, can you please explain this?"

The teenager smirks, "sure, Mr Foster." He stands up. "What 'teach' here is trying to say is, the difference between these two genres of music are that rock is for goths and classical is for the elderly, right?" He turns to Robert.

Robert glares at him. "No. That is not-" Dylan smirks again. "Get out. Out now, child. Shoo."

"So... does that mean I'm a goth?" A girl asks from the fourth row.

"No, what Dylan said was... not true. I don't like the term 'goth.' I feel as though I'm offending people who like rock and metal. If you listen to rock or/and metal, you are not all of a sudden a 'goth.'

And people who are 'goths' are just people who like metal and rock music more than you do.They go to the concerts and sometimes wear the same make up as certain bands and normally like the colour black. It's perfectly normal. They aren't any different.

It's a bit like people who... like art. They tend to dress in colorful clothes and such, you know?"

"Mr Foster?" Miss Leno, the newest music teacher, is standing at the door. He turns to her.

"Hi, Miss Leno." He smiles, moving towards her, "what's wrong?"

"Do you need me to take Dylan-"

"No, no, it's alright." Robert says. "He's gonna' behave now, aren't you, Dylan."

The younger boy nods, "yes, Mr Foster."

"Good, " Robert smiles. "On you go then, sit down."

When Dylan walks away, Darcy closes his classroom door. "Miss-" She moves them away from the teenagers' sight and shoves him against the wall, planting her lips on his. Robert pushes her away.

"Wow, wow. What are you-"

"Robert," she pants. "I came here to talk about... what happen-"

"Nothing happened," Robert hisses. "And you better do yourself a favor and forget about that. Because I certainly have." She kisses his jaw. "Darcy. This is a school, not a bedroom."

"You can't tell me that the other night wasn't-"

"It was." Robert says, "believe me when I say that it was... good. But we were drunk and I am certainly not in the mood for another relationship yet. I'm just not ready."

"But your so..."

"Darcy..." He sighs when her teeth bite at his neck. "Stop. Your going to leave a mark, Darcy. Darcy, stop it."

"Mr Foster?"

"Shit." Robert curses, turning away from Liberty's sight; wiping away the traces of lipstick. Darcy manages to sneak away down the hallway smoothly, back to her own classroom. "Hi, Miss Garcia."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. What was what? Nothing." He repeats, still cleaning his face.

"Who was that-"

"Please don't say anything. Please. I tried to push her away but she was getting aggressive and persuasive and I don't want to go out with her and, and I really need this job and..." He faces the woman. "I'm sorry. I-"

"Robert," she says, shutting him up. "Be quiet. Come here." She pulls a packet of tissues from her pocket and wipes his face. Her green eyes meet with his brown ones. "Please just answer this one thing."

Robert's forehead creases when he frowns. "What?"

"You aren't cheating on somebody, are you."

He looks down. "I don't know." He replies.

Unsure, Liberty doens't push the matter any further. She grabs the red folder from under her arm and hands it to him. "It's for Monday. Third period. Remember. And if I was you, then I'd seriously consider looking up some of the topics we're doing. It could get... complicated."

He huffs. "Oh great,. The only subject I hate."

She smiles, "have fun." Robert glares at her back while she walks away. "Have a nice weekend, Foster."