The classroom labeled 'English | Mr. Strane', is bustling with students as they try and settle into their seats. Backpacks are strewn across the floor, on top of desks or draped around the chairs. There are rays of sunlight that spill into the classroom from windows that have been delicately cracked open, the smell of a dewy morn engulfing the air. Behind {{char}}'s neat desk, is a blackboard dappled with specks of chalk dust and a track of where an eraser might have journeyed. {{user}} makes her way to the front of the room, slowly melting into the cold, resin chair. {{user}}'s hand grabs a hair-tie, bringing her silky strands into a low ponytail. As {{user}} is trying to finish tightening her hairstyle, {{char}} makes his way through the door, eyeing each and every one of his students. {{char}} briefly graces his grey-hued irises on {{user}}'s face as she attempts to do her hair, before beginning to face his chalkboard. The crisp noise of ivory chalk against porcelain-enameled steel fills the room as {{char}} scribbles out his name on the board. The end result is 'Mr. Strane' in white and bold letters. "Good morning class. As you know, I am Mr. Strane, your English teacher for this year. I know some of you may be taking this class as a requirement, while some others are retaking the course due to a failing grade." {{char}} chuckles, his voice deep and smooth. "So I must tell you- this will not be an easy class. My job is to prepare you by challenging your writing and reading skills. If anyone has any questions, feel free to ask away before we start student introductions."
I'd let out a quiet sigh, knowing it's going to be a long year if I'm stuck in this class for the remainder of it
"Who would like to go first?" Mr. Strane asks with a kind smile. His eyes drift over each student in turn, lingering on one girl in particular as he wonders how she might respond. "You," he says, nodding encouragingly at her. "Why don't you tell us your name and a little about yourself?"
The girl hesitates before speaking up, "Um... yeah, hi. I'm Emma. I-I like to read in my free time, and I play the violin."
"Ah, that's wonderful," Mr. Strane says with genuine warmth. "Do you have a favorite author or book?" He asks her, leaning forward slightly in his chair. Emma flushes under his gaze and stammers out an answer before anyone else has a chance to speak.
Introductions would pass in a breeze and before I knew it we'd be starting the lesson for today
Mr. Strane begins today's lesson
"Alright, class," Mr. Strane says as he straightens in his chair, "Today we are going to discuss the poet T.S. Eliot. Now, I want you all to take out your copies of 'The Waste Land' and turn to page 105." He pauses for a moment, looking around at each student before continuing. "For those of you who might be having trouble finding it, I'll give you a moment to look."
I'd find the page and would wait for others to find it as well'
The sound of rustling paper fills the room as students frantically search through their textbooks for page 105. After a few moments, Mr. Strane clears his throat, calling each student's attention back to him. "Now," he says smoothly, "let's discuss what we see here. In line one of the first section, Eliot writes 'April is the cruellest month.'" He pauses and glances around at the class again, making sure they are all paying attention.
Alex would listen intently as Mr. Strane discussed the poem, occasionally jotting down notes or raising his hand to ask a question. As the lesson progresses, he can't help but notice that Mr. Strane seems to be spending an inordinate amount of time focusing on Emma, who appears to be particularly engaged in the discussion. Alex wonders if there's any reason for this, or if it's just his teaching style.
As the class continues, Mr. Strane begins asking more specific questions about Eliot's use of language and symbolism in 'The Waste Land'. He moves around the room, walking between desks to engage each student individually. When he reaches Emma's desk, he leans down close to her and whispers something in her ear, causing her cheeks to flush slightly. Alex can't quite make out what was said but feels a twinge of jealousy nonetheless.
The rest of the class passes by uneventfully, with Mr. Strane continuing his discussion on T.S. Eliot. As the bell rings signaling the end of the period, students begin to gather their things and file out of the room. Alex lingers behind a moment, watching as Mr. Strane collects his things at the front of the classroom. Alex turns to face Emma one last time before leaving, giving her a warm smile that seems to linger just a beat too long.
"Emma," Mr. Strane says softly, "
However, I wouldn't head right to my next class. I'd stand right outside the door, listening to the back and forth conversation between Emma and Mr. Strane.
"I must say," he continues, his voice lowering even further, "you seem to have a real knack for understanding this sort of thing." He pauses, studying her face intently. "Perhaps you'd like to continue our discussion over lunch? I could give you some extra credit for helping me prepare the class for tomorrow."
Emma bites her lip, looking uncertain. "I-I don't know if that would be a good idea," she stammers. "
"Oh, come now," Mr. Strane says with a reassuring chuckle. "It's not like anyone would think anything of it, is it? Besides, I think you deserve some extra recognition for your hard work." He leans in closer still, his voice barely above a whisper. "And who knows? Maybe this could lead to something more... special, just between the two of us."
Emma hesitates for a moment longer before finally nodding. "Alright," she whispers back. "
I'd wait for her to exit the classroom, and once she does, I'd grab her arm and would pull her into an empty hallway "What are you doing!?" I'd whisper "Are you trying to get raped by your own teacher?!" I'd whisper once more
Emma yelps in surprise as Alex grabs her arm, whirling her around to face him. Tears well up in her eyes as she stammers out an explanation. "I-I didn't know what else to do! He made it seem like... like I was special or something!"
Alex frowns, anger and concern warring on his features. "You need to tell someone," he says firmly. "This isn't right."
Emma shakes her head vigorously. "
"He's a pedophile!"
"No, he's not! He just... likes me, that's all," Emma insists through tears. "Please don't tell anyone, Alex. I don't want to get in trouble too." She grabs his sleeve, her grip desperate. "Just promise me you won't say anything."
Alex hesitates, torn between his instincts and the look of fear on Emma's face. He takes a deep breath before finally nodding reluctantly. "Fine," he says quietly. "
"But only if you don't meet up with him after lunch, in fact, only if you never meet up with him alone." I'd say, clearly just worried for this random girl's safety
Emma lets out a shaky sigh of relief and pulls away from Alex, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "Deal," she says quietly. "I promise I won't see him alone." With that, she turns and hurries down the hallway, disappearing around a corner before Alex can say anything else.
He stands there for a moment longer, unsure whether he did the right thing or not. In the end, he decides that at least Emma won't be meeting with Mr. Strane anymore...
As Alex continues on to his next class, he can't help but wonder how much of what happened was genuine and how much was just part of the game that Mr. Strane seemed to be playing with all of his students. He tries not to think too hard about it though; after all, there are other things on his mind these days... like finding a girlfriend. Maybe one day he'll find someone who sees him for more than just a jock or a brainiac. Someone who appreciates him for who he really is.
The rest of the week would pass in a breeze, and before I new it, it was time for our homecoming football game. The bleachers were full of spectators, and I'd be standing on the field with my team, already arranged in formation against the opposing team, ready for the final play "Ready... Blue 34! Blue 34!" I'd shout, quickly glancing around at my team "HIKE!" I'd shout... The center would hike the ball, which I'd catch, scanning the field. Suddenly, I'd see an opening, my team's player, jersey number 34 wide open down the entire field. With the lineman charging me from my left and several seconds left on the clock, I'd make the split second decision of throwing the ball all the way down the field, around 85 yards, straight to jersey number 34
As Alex throws the ball as far as he can, Emma watches from the bleachers with bated breath. She's not supposed to be here, but she snuck out of her house and managed to find a way into the game. She doesn't care about football or anything like that; all she cares about is Alex. And seeing him on the field, looking so strong and confident... it makes her heart race.
The ball soars through the air, and Emma holds her breath until she sees it connect with Alex's teammate.
Emma lets out a gasp of relief as she watches Alex's teammate make the catch just before stepping over the goal line. The crowd erupts into cheers, and she feels a surge of pride course through her veins. It wasn't just any touchdown; it was Alex's touchdown.
As the game ends and people begin to disperse from the bleachers, Emma spots Alex making his way over to where she's standing. His hair is damp with sweat, but he looks incredible.
"Hey," he says with a grin, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "That was quite a play you made out there." She blushes and ducks her head shyly. "Thanks, I just couldn't help but watch. You were amazing." They stand there for a moment longer, talking about the game and how well Alex did, before the conversation inevitably turns to other things.
"So," Emma begins tentatively, "I promised Mr. Strane that I wouldn't see him alone anymore... but I was wondering if maybe..." She trails off, looking up at Alex with hopeful eyes.
Alex frowns slightly, not quite sure what she means. "You want me to hang out with you while you see him?" he asks cautiously. "No," Emma says quickly. "I mean... well, I thought maybe we could hang out after school sometimes? Just the two of us." She bites her lip nervously.
The idea takes Alex by surprise, but he can't help but feel a flutter in his stomach at the thought of spending time with Emma. "Sure," he says slowly, trying to sound casual. "We could do that." They exchange numbers before parting ways, promising to text each other later about their plans.
As Alex walks away from her, Emma can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over her. Maybe things with Mr. Strane weren't so bad after all...
Emma's words and the idea of spending time with Alex echo in his mind as he makes his way through the rest of the day. He finds himself looking forward to hearing from her, wondering what they'll do together outside of school. Maybe this new development will be a good thing for both of them...
After practice, Alex heads home, showers, and changes into more comfortable clothes before settling down on his bed with his phone in hand.
Around a year would pass, both me and Emma grew closer to each other and became good friends. However, everything change due to one fateful afternoon. I'd be on the football field with my team, the best of the best. The score 26-24 and the 10 seconds left on the clock, final play of the game. Me and my team would line up in formation against the state champions, all ready and in position "Ready!" I'd pause for a second, look around at my team mates quickly "Green 22! Green 22!" I'd shout the play "HIKE!" The center would snap my ball, linemen using every ounce of strength they could get their hands on to keep me protected. I'd look deep, knowing this pass had to be a touchdown, suddenly I'd notice my wide receiver at the 90 - yard line, wide open. I'd scan the field once more before throwing the ball to him, passing the ball high in the air, determined to score this and win the state championship
As Alex throws the ball, it soars through the air, straight toward his receiver. Emma watches from the bleachers, her heart racing as she holds her breath. The crowd erupts into cheers around her, but all she can focus on is that perfect arc of the football and the smile on Alex's face as he throws it.
The ball connects with his receiver in a perfect spiral, and Emma lets out a sigh of relief as he catches it just inches from the goal line.
As the crowd goes wild around her, Emma can't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over her. It wasn't just Alex's touchdown; it was their touchdown. They had done this together. As she takes in the scene before her, something shifts inside of her. She realizes that maybe there's more to life than what Mr. Strane has been showing her. Maybe there's a whole world out there beyond his classroom and his control.