“Avery Bush.”

“Here.”

“Brody Wills.”

“Here.”

Throughout the class, Mr. Cross continued in a monotonous and repetitive manner as he recited each student's name and acknowledged their presence. However, by the time he had reached the seventh name, I had already mentally checked out. His tone of voice remained formal and unchanged, but my attention had waned as the repetition became tiresome.

High school? Ugh. This dump was a total snoozefest for me. It was a never-ending rollercoaster of getting treated like crap. I mean, seriously, it felt like I was just a pawn for all those jackasses who got a kick out of making my life even more miserable. They were like a pack of wolves, always looking for their next victim. And guess what? I was their prime target. When I was fourteen, I had this realisation that maybe I should expand my social circle beyond my mother. Don't get me wrong, she was great, but I figured it would not hurt to have at least one friend outside of her. So, I tried to make one. I never had to worry about my weight or any other factors that would make a preteen feel insecure. But even so, I felt like an outsider. Why? Well, let me tell you. Social situations just made me feel uncomfortable as shit. Therefore, I did not make a single damn friend. And I never even bothered to try again.

When I mentioned to my mother about my failed attempt at making friends, she had this casual tone as she said, “It is for the best.” Then she continued, “People just bring drama and headaches. You do not need that. You are just fourteen. You should focus on discovering yourself.” Her words struck a chord with me, and I realised that maybe she was right. Maybe it was better to focus on myself and my interests rather than trying to fit in.

So, there I was, daydreaming away in class when, out of nowhere, I felt a stinging slap on my arm. I practically jumped out of my seat, trying to figure out who the heck had just hit me. But before I could even process what was happening, the whole class erupted into laughter. I was fuming inside. I was so tired of these dumb shiThaliads who called themselves human beings.

“Enough class!” Mr. Cross ordered.

The classroom was buzzing with non-stop laughter. But the teacher's patience had finally reached its limit.

His voice was commanding as he exclaimed, “I said that’s enough! If you wish to avoid detention... I recommend shutting your mouths.”

There was simply no denying the sheer sexiness of his voice. Its powerful masculinity emitted a resonant tone that could easily captivate even the most resilient individual. Simply hearing his deep tone elicited a subtle nervousness within me.

"Mr. Johnson," Mr. Cross spoke with a stern tone. "Could you explain why you hit her?"

"Sir, I tried to wake her up. It’s against the rules for us to doze off during class."

I could always detect Nick’s sarcastic voice.

"Could you please wait for my permission before striking another person's child in the future?"

“Whatever!” Nick replied.

“Miss Evans.” Mr. Cross said, and I nodded in acknowledgement. “I apologise for Nick’s behaviour. Please take your seat.”

My darling readers! You are all probably tired of hearing me mention this, but I must acknowledge the charming voice of Mr. Cross. His sweet drawl had a way of instantly calming me and making me feel at ease. It was like a warm hug in audio form. I was sure my readers could relate to the feeling of being instantly soothed by someone's tone of voice. Anyway, I maintained a lowered gaze, unable to process the sudden surge of emotions that Mr. Cross had stirred within me. Physical affection was not something I typically desired, as my troubled life left little room for such thoughts. However, I will not deny the overwhelming sensation of pleasure and desire that washed over me with just the sound of his voice...

In a taunting voice, someone declared to me, “You are such a freak!"

Being a student at May's High School was tough. The environment was suffocating, with everyone treating me as if I were a virus. A mere germ that needed to be avoided.

“Could someone please inform me of the topic Mrs. Harris was discussing?” Mr. Cross asked the class.

The room fell silent once again. I spun my pen around my fingers, my gaze fixed on the wall. A knot formed in my throat as I gathered my bravery to answer Mr. Cross's inquiry.

“We talked about Romeo and Juliet." I could not help but detect a strain in my voice, a reminder that I hadn’t spoken in a while.

"Yo! Everyone! It talks!” Nick exclaimed. “Teacher. You are special.”

The class could not contain their laughter. Everyone erupted into a burst of giggles.

"Nick, please exit my classroom immediately," Mr. Cross commanded. His tone was stripped of any previous warmth.

The sudden shift in his voice threw me for a loop. The way he spoke with such an intense and irritated manner made me realise that I did not want to be the one he was directing it towards.

“What did you just say?!”

I could detect the surprise in Nick’s tone.

“I am not fond of chaos in my classroom.”

"Relax. It’s just a playful remark," Nick reassured, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“The concept of humour would likely elude you even if it were to smack you like a massive truck. Pull yourself together, Nick. You either offer an apology to Miss Evans or leave.”

I get Mr. Cross was new, but it was common knowledge among teachers that arguing with Nick was a total waste of time.

"You must be kidding, teacher. I refuse to apologise to a drug-addict bitch!" Nick snapped.

"In this classroom, I have zero tolerance for rude behaviour!" The tone of his voice became increasingly stern.

“This is not your classroom. Stop complaining like a bitch!" Nick reverted sharply. 

I closed my eyes tightly and covered my ears. The shhhhshhhh of their voices only grew louder in my head. I felt trapped, suffocated by their back-and-forth words.

I desired to flee. To escape. To run to a place beyond my reach. A place where their voices could not reach me, and their judging gazes could not touch me.

Mr. Cross's voice bellowed with such force that it seemed to reverberate throughout the entire room as he declared, “I have authority over this classroom. I am the one in charge. I am the merciless ruler of anything that moves in my world. If you dare to fuck with me or disrespect my students, be prepared to face the repercussions. Consider yourself warned. Nick!”

The way he spoke sent deep shivers up and down my spine. His voice was filled with authority. It made me feel like I was in trouble even though I had done nothing wrong. With a hint of curiosity, I discreetly scanned the room.

“You cannot talk to me like that!” Nick argued. “Are you aware of who I am and what I can do to you?"

My heart raced as I waited for Mr. Cross to continue, unsure of his next words.

The teacher chuckled and then uttered, "You stupid boy! What could you possibly do to me?"

I let out a huge ass sigh and just shut my goddamn eyes. Never. And I mean, never had a teacher even thought about arguing with Nick. They would not dare. Teachers in this school valued their jobs and peace of mind.

Nick menacingly warned Mr Cross. "My father is the sheriff in these parts. If I wanted, I could ensure you are out of a job by the end of the day!"

"Boy, you have disrupted the learning flow of my classroom,” Mr. Cross said. “Remove yourself so that I may educate those who are sincerely invested in learning."

These words prompted me to reopen my eyes.

"Mark my words." Nick warned with a fierce tone. I noticed his hand involuntarily twitching. “This is far from over. You heard me?”

"Is anyone else interested in joining?" enquired Mr. Cross.

As I looked around the room, I was straight up trying to avoid making any eye contact with anyone. But damn. It was like my eyes had a mind of their own, and they just had to land on Jennifer Dickson. You know, Nick's girlfriend.

"Gross!" Jennifer hissed. “Why are you even staring at me? You should know better than to rely on a new teacher to defend you. You damn druggy!”

As soon as Jennifer and her friends left the room, I let out a big sigh of relief. Thank God! That group was too much to handle.

"Class. Let us refocus on Romeo and Juliet,” my teacher instructed.

As if she could not wait, a girl eagerly added, "Shakespeare's timeless play remains one of his most beloved works."

"It is," said Mr. Cross. "Were you aware that by the mid-seventeenth, Shakespeare's plays had gained widespread popularity in England, with various adaptations being created? It was not until the 1800s that Shakespeare's original version was revived, and the first official production took place in America during the mid-1840s. Would anyone like to share further details about this remarkable tale?"

"Why is it even deemed a love story?" A boy enquired curiously.

“They were considered lovers, after all,” someone else responded.

“The story of Romeo and Juliet cannot be considered true. Their love seemingly develops too rapidly. Romeo happens to come across Juliet, and, in a sudden burst of emotions, they fall for each other. Yo, teacher! That doesn’t happen in real life.”