The Mafia's Angels

12. Mr McDavis

Reader discretion is advised

Josephine's POV:

I was sitting in another boring English lesson, with Mr. Terry at the front of the class, droning on about The Great Gatsby or something. The clock seemed to tick slower during the school day. I half thought about leaving the classroom, saying I needed the toilet, and then just running away. But I didn't. I couldn't even be bothered to move.

I checked the clock again, and only half-an-hour was left. That was three 10 minutes, six 5 minutes. I took a large gulp from my water bottle, and yawned.

Looking around, I realised everyone was taking notes, but I had no idea on what. I grabbed a pen anyway, and started scribbling down whatever it was that was written on the board frantically.

"Josie, are you ok back there?" Mr. Terry asked. "Are we going too fast for you?"

Jesus Christ. I hated it when teachers called you out like that.

"No," I replied, slowly looking up at him from under my lashes, pouting a little.

"You looked a little flustered that's all. If you need any help, I can come over," he said.

Mr. Terry was a real weirdo, you know those people you just get a weird vibe from telling you to stay the fuck away? It was fun to mess with him though.

"I'm fine, thank you sir. Just a little hot," I replied mischievously, before taking another sip of water.

"Well good... I mean if you're hot, you should take your jumper off," he suggested.

"Ok then," I replied, standing up. I took it off, leaving me in my white untucked blouse, tiny pleated skirt, and my thigh high sheer stockings, which I knew the tops of could now be seen with me stretching to take my jumper off.

"Much better."

"Tuck your shirt in," Mr. Terry said, a little red now.

"Yes sir," I replied, doing so, before sitting back down.

The class resumed, but I wasn't oblivious to Mr. Terry's weird looks.

What? It wasn't against school rules to wear hosiery to school... And I'd worn these for a special someone, that I'd yet to see all day.

The classroom door opened, and Mr. McDavis entered.

"Good afternoon Mr. McDavis. Girls, say good afternoon to your headmaster," Mr. Terry said.

"Good afternoon Mr. McDavis," they spoke, excitement clear in their voices to see Mr McDreamy in the flesh. He'd become our new headteacher unexpectedly at the start of the year, in September, replacing our older headmistresses, with a new piece of eye candy for us all to enjoy. He was very young, tall and wore clothes that fitted him perfectly in all the right places, extenuating his pecs and overall toned build. His dark blonde hair was always perfectly styled, and he changed between sporting a short beard, and going bare face, which made him look even younger than he was.

My school had had its fair share of good-looking interns and random builders, that we had obsessed over for the too short a time they had been around, but never anyone who was such a prominent staff figure. Overall, he was a very pleasant surprise at the start of the school year.

I didn't speak. Instead, I looked him straight in the eye, his eyes so dark that I could feel them practically burning a hole through me, across the classroom.