"He has his eyes on someone?" I echoed thoughtfully. "Who?" Instead of answering my question Sam just gave me an incredibly irritating smirk.
"Why don't we just file that as yet another thing that I know and you don't know, hm?" She teased, giggling a little as she spoke.
"Oh fuck that," I whispered, hearing Sam's giggles grow just a tad bit louder. "I'll add it to the reasons why you're a secret asshole/Sadist who takes pleasure in my discomfort, frustration, and pain." Sam's eyes went wide and she looked genuinely stunned.
"Wow, you have had a lot of time to think about this haven't you," Sam softly chuckled still stunned. I rolled my eyes jokingly and shook my head.
"Oh don't act like you don't have a line of Masochists outside somewhere in the woods at night," I scoffed jokingly as Sam struggled to contain her laughs. "I have exposed your fetish. Take it like a Dom." That did it and soon Sam was beside herself with laughter. I was right there with her and when the bell finally rang we were still trying to stop laughing, only to start again the moment one of us spoke.
"Sam, Sebastian, would you like to share with us why you can't stop laughing?"Mr. McCain asked innocently, leaning further back into his chair. "I have been wondering for a while now. With those words, Sam and I quickly sobered up and glanced at one another. This line was used countless times when students interrupt a class but Mr. McCain looked honestly interested: so I told him.
"Oh, I was just joking with Sam and said that she was hiding the fact that she was secretly a Sadist," I explained as fast as I possibly could. "It was funnier in the moment." Instead of looking annoyed as most teachers would have at this point Mr. McCain instead gave a small smile with underlying humor behind it.
"My brother and I did the same thing a couple of days back," he confessed, following it with a short chuckle. "I was only joking when I brought it up at first but when I thought back to past experiences with a child and the way he was with ex-girlfriends I ended up seriously asking him the next day. He got so mad he dumped some linguine on my head, then cursed himself for wasting such good food." The whole class was laughing and after a few moments calmed back down. "Now that we have gotten our laughs out of the way let's focus on the topic at hand." Mr. McCain got up from his seat and walked around his desk to write on the huge whiteboard.
The moment the words started appearing on the board I was already opening up my own notebook and writing down the words.
"We will be discussing shifters, the only shifters that we consider a part of the Species are human-to-animal shifters. There are thousands of different types of shifters that exist and you will probably meet at least a hundred different kinds in your lifetime," Mr. McCain said. "But we are going to be focusing specifically on the kind that makes up the majority." He pointed to the words that he had displayed in huge letters for all of us students to see. "Wolf-shifters, more commonly known as Werewolves."
—————
"Ah, it looks like the bell is about to ring. I have copies of the book that we are using for werewolves next to my desk if any of you would like to look over the material on your own time. Richard Meyers' details of the species, especially wolf-shifters, are one of the best that you can find. Actually-"The bell rang loudly, interrupting Mr. McCain who had been in the middle of a rant.
As funny and easygoing as Mr. McCain was he sometimes let his passion carry him away and without any of us realizing the time that past he would check his watch and see that he had been talking for way too long. If he got the chance Mr. McCain could talk for five hours straight without even thinking to ask for water. So while I was a little disappointed that he was not able to finish, there was a very good chance that he would have continued on for much longer.
The rest of my classmates and I speedily packed up our things and the students streamed out of the door, resembling a river with their speed. I would have been right at the front of that stream rushing to class but after hearing him speak I wanted to talk to Mr. McCain before I left.
Since I decided on doing so before class ended I was relaxed and calm when I packed up my stuff. I figured that if I wasn't leaving the classroom yet I did not have to move as if a spider was on my ass.
Samantha though, did not have similar plans, and seconds after the bell rang she was up and almost to the door.
"By babe!" she called as she moved along with the stream. Instead of replying verbally I just blew her a kiss; seeing the action Samantha made a bold decision and I gaped, completely insulted, as she smacked it away. Her cackles could be heard long after she was out the door and I was still frowning when my slow ass finally finished getting his stuff.
But oh-so-smart-me did not realize that there might be other students who wanted to speak to our beloved teacher and thus I found myself at the back of the ten-person long line. I audibly groaned to express my annoyance but, for obvious reasons, no one came to my aid so I just shuffled from one foot to another while I waited. Mr. McCain talked to a boy at the front of the line for a few moments before the boy abruptly left for the door, scurrying away so fast that I sincerely became worried for him.
"Excuse me, guys." He said loudly raising his hands to gather our attention. "If you're coming to me for any reason other than school work, I won't ask, just know that I will ask for details and you will not get any . . . good opportunities by trying to seem 'lost' or in need of help."
With that announcement at first, everyone stayed put in line but eventually, people in the line slowly, almost as if trying to seem discreet, left to head on to their next class. Even the girl who had been standing right in front of him left and I sent a mental prayer to her since the embarrassment in her mind because of that will be great.
Only two people were left in front of me and the girl who was at the front of the line before only needed some help with the assignment and she was gone. There was now only one guy standing between Mr McCain and I; he sounded like getting the answers he needed would not take two seconds so I checked my phone to see how much time had passed.
I had been waiting for six minutes and I felt myself suddenly get nervous when I realized that I had Dr. McCain next. I had not been late to a single one of his classes yet but I saw how he got with other late students and I idolized him far too much without taking his anger, or possible disappointment, as a huge blow to my self-esteem.
I ignored thoughts of what may happen if I were late and instead thought about how I would go about telling Mr. McCain what I wanted to say. It was not a straight-up "all about school" question and I worried that it might seem a little weird coming from me but I really wanted to ask him.
I looked up when I heard someone calling me and found my cheeks growing warm when I realized who it was and why. The boy who had been standing in front of me before was now gone and I, being completely oblivious, had just stood there staring off into space until he finally decided to actually call me.
"Sorry," I mumbled embarrassedly, going to stand right up against Mr. McCain's desk. "I was . . . uh . . . spaced out I guess." Mr. McCain chuckled lightly and I felt my face burn. He was in no way really making fun of me but I still felt kind of silly; waiting for so long only to space out when I finally got the chance to talk to him was dumb on every level.
"It's totally fine, I'm just worried that if we don't finish up with what you wanted to ask me then you will be late for class." He explained honestly, giving me a soft kind smile. I nodded, ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach at the thought of being late, and gathered my words.
"I was just really interested in your talk about the werewolf species, will we be looking into other types of shifters during this class or stick with werewolves?" I asked him curiously, forgetting about what I said when I thought about species studies again. "I mean it's not important or anything, I just really want to know." Mr. McCain seemed very surprised by my question but instead of answering simply and rushing me off to class as I expected him to he leaned closer to me in interest and started to speak.
"Are you particularly interested in werewolves Mr. Mishra-Terranova?" he asked me, a certain level of intrigue in his eyes.
"Oh not just werewolves, I am really into the study of all species. I find the differences in natural behavior, costumes, bodies, all of those things . . . well . . . fascinating really," I confessed, my eyes falling to my shoes as I became slightly bashful. Mr. McCain's eyes light up with excitement.
"That is great Sebastian! What career field do you plan on going into?" he responded eagerly, this time pushing all of his papers to the side to further focus on me. I paused before answering, unsure of his reaction.
"Actually I want to go into natural medicine," I told watching his expression as I spoke. "The natural medical field is small but they are so earnest and I want to be able to help people with the things naturally given to us, not some chemical made in a lab with all of these side-effects and ugh! Sorry, I was rambling." My teacher was now beaming but I was not completely sure why.
"I think that rambling is fine, I do it five hundred times a day but no one complains." Mr. McCain shrugged. I found myself frowning unconsciously and before I could shut my lips I was blurting out my thoughts.
"Well, I think that people probably don't tell you because it would be awkward to interrupt: especially as a student. Imagine raising your class and saying, 'Mr. Smith, you are talking too much,' no one would." I told him, m hand coming to rest on my hip as it usually did when I started to preach. Mr. McCain looked nothing short of shocked and I felt myself start to wince.
"I guess you were-"
"I'm sorry that was-" we both cut ourselves off when we started speaking at the same time.
"You go-"
"You can go-"
Once again we were left with no one speaking. A few painfully awkward seconds passed before he let out a painful laugh.
"I thought I wouldn't go through any more of those once I left high school and became 'an adult." Mr. McCain laughed, his voice losing some of the tenseness that it held before.
"Well, how do you think I feel? I just came to the promised land and I am already disillusioned," I whined jokingly. We both laughed and I felt myself relax in relief.
We talked for a little bit after that and Mr. McCain gave me a long list of books on not only shifters but many other species and the details of how they behave and work. Forgetting about my next class and of the fact that he was a teacher and not some random friend that I hung out with we continued to talk until I heard that dreaded bell.
"Shit!" I breathed checking my phone to see that I had let the whole span of in-between time be spent talking to Mr. McCain. "Dr. McCain is going to kill me." I moaned pitifully to myself as I started stepping back from the door. "I have to go, Mr. McCain."
Mr. McCain looked as if he had a light bulb moment and slide back to the long table behind his desk to grab a paper. I waited quite patiently on the note and then handed it to me.
"Teachers are allowed to give notes to tell other teachers why their students are late," Mr. McCain explained as he handed me a sticky note with his name, my name, and Dr. McCain's name. "It can cause some arguments between teachers when some are taking up too much of a student's time and making it hard for their next teacher but my brother won't mind. If he does then I'll deal with him, you'll be fine." I felt relief wash over me in a wave and I gave my best grin to Mr. McCain.
"Thank you." I smiled turning to race out of the classroom as fast as I could manage.
"No problem!" Mr. McCain called out to my running figure. I heard his chuckle in the distance for a moment before I was too far away to hear anything else from his room. My feet were moving at the speed of light as I ran and in minutes I felt myself arriving at Dr. McCain's class.
I stopped just short of the door and took a quick second to catch my breath before I opened the door. Dr. McCain had been giving some introduction on what we would be doing today when I interrupted and I watched as his expression went from gentle and calm to reprimanding.
"Sebastian, why are coming into class late? I assume you get the same amount of time through classes as everyone else?" he asked bitterly, his comment drawing out snickers from many other students in the class.
"Uh, I was talking to Mr. McCain. He gave me a slip so that I could be excused." I took the sticky note off of my binder and handed it to Dr. McCain. He looked over it calculatingly before another expression came across his face. He seemed--I don't know--smug? Maybe teasing. It was an expression that I doubt was meant for me but instead meant for his brother.
"Yeah, this is his handwriting. You can head over to your seat and . . . Courtney will catch you up on what we will be doing," Dr. McCain said, his voice back to the calm yet commanding tone that he constantly wore. "Class say thank you to Courtney."
"Thank you Courtney's" rang out throughout the room accompanied by many giggles and laughs while Courtney tried and failed at holding back a blush from the attention.
"Thanks, Courtney," I whispered when I sat beside her. She nodded and I was glad that she did not seem upset.
"No problem, I don't mind."
Courtney explained what I had missed and from there I thoroughly enjoyed Dr. McCain's lecture. Yet as I sat in his class I could not help but think about his brother instead.
Mr. McCain is really cool.
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