This lesson I had with Mr. Way. If he was anything like Mr. Woodsen, then I was sure we would get along fine. But, if he was anything like Mrs. Waterman, I feared that we wouldn't. I know I didn't want another one of my teachers to hate me, especially on my first day, when I know I haven't done anything wrong to make them hate me in the first place.
I sighed when I gazed at the map and schedule in my hands. The lesson I had just now finished, was English, and Mr. Woodsen made me feel very comfortable in his class, as I thought he would have. He sat me near the back, which I was thankful for, as I didn't really want to be in view of everyone else, and I think he sensed that about me.
Again, I sat by myself, which I was more than happy with. I feel as if I can work better on my own, and I've had to work alone before anyway.
As English was the lesson I came out of, I had to find room 25 for Art. That's twenty rooms away from my English class. But, I didn't know if it was another floor up, or a floor down, or on the same floor, hence why I was looking intently at my map.
The halls were empty, and I didn't want to interrupt any classes with a silly question from the new girl. I was as shy as anything with new people, and it made it a lot worse when put in a new environment. I decided that I would have to search for the room myself, and alone.
The school was so big, and it didn't help that it had smaller buildings for different lessons. There was the maths block, the gym, and part of the science department. How people can find their way around this place is amazing to me. It's going to take me weeks before I stop using the map, but even then, I may need to just glance at it a couple of times to make sure I was in the right place.
I took a left after exiting the English department, but didn't know at the time that I did in fact, take a wrong turn.
There were pictures on the walls surrounding me. Winston Churchill, Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, men in uniform holding large guns and wearing helmets. It didn't take me very long to realize that I was in the History block. It wasn't the pictures that made me realize this. I had History earlier today with Miss Stone and Mr Bishop in room 12, so I was still a while from my Art class.
I sighed, and turned around to walk in the opposite direction. My converses squeaked on the polished floor with each step I took. The whole building was so silent it creeped me out a little. I was never one to like silence. At home, I would always have some sort of music playing. Even if it was Kanye West if I couldn't find any songs by The Misfits on the radio, but at a very low volume of course.
Finally, after minute after minute of searching, I found room 25, my Art classroom. The door was covered in different colors of paint, but mainly dark colors like red, black and blue. Near the centre of the door was a picture of my teacher, Mr Way. A picture was on every class door, I noticed, which helped when finding your teacher if you didn't know them.
Under the picture were the words; Mr G.A. Way. Head of Art. Near the top of the door was a plaque that said Room 25.
I stared closely at the picture of Mr Way. I noticed he didn't smile at all. The other teachers did, including Mrs Waterman. His place was plain to someone who would make a quick glance at him, but from what I could see, he looked sort of angry. Whatever he was trying to show in this picture, would probably reflect how he was as a person, and a teacher.
His hair was black, and just under his ears, but not in a stupid, plain way. It was messy, but in a neat way, like he was meant to have his hair like that, and not a mistake. His bangs almost covered his left eye. His eyes were an amazing, beautiful hazel color. The sort of eyes that Harry had, but Mr Way's were much, much more beautiful. I could get lost in them forever, if I had the time. But still, I noticed his eyes held a lot of emotion. Pain, hurt, anger, confusion. Did he want people to notice this about him? Or was he the type of guy that was awful at keeping his emotions hidden?
I noticed his nose was small, and kind of pointed upwards, but in a nice way. I must admit, that going by this picture, his nose is what I liked best about him. His mouth was frowning. His lips were in a fine line, but with a softness to them. Not his lips, the expression he was showing. I am guessing that his man has had a lot of trouble in his life, and that he didn't have a lot of control over what he did, so he became a teacher, knowing he could control things like he wanted too.
I shook my head of any thoughts, thinking that I was probably looking way too deeply into this. I mean, I was trying to work this man out by looking at his picture. One picture wasn't going to help me at all.
Hesitantly, I knocked on the painted door. It was a few seconds before I heard the words 'come in' in a harsh manner, but I was sure he didn't mean for it to be said like it was.
I slowly turned the door knob, and opened the door. The first thing I noticed was that the whole class was completely silent. It wasn't like Maths at all. In there, you could laugh a little, talk a little, and really Mrs Waterman wouldn't mind, but in here, what I got from it was, if you uttered a word, you were pretty much dead.
I walked further into the room and soon saw Mr Way sitting, with his back to me, at his desk that was covered in papers, paint pots, and other stuff a teacher would need on their desk.
Quickly, I glanced at the clock. 3:55. Fuck. I was over thirty minutes late. If this was Mr Woodsen, I'm sure it would be fine. But, with Mr Way, he just seemed scary, and I didn't know what to expect.
Suddenly, his dark, deep voice brought me out from my thoughts, "Care to tell me why you are late to my class?" Not once did he look up from the paper he was grading with a black pen.
I swallowed, all of a sudden feeling very nervous. I noticed that the class payed no attention to us, or at least pretending not to pay attention.
I replied shakily, and shyly, "I'm new here, and I got lost looking for this class."
Quickly, he turned his head and stared at me in almost a glare. His eyes, much like his picture, were filled with many emotions, but I saw one I didn't see before. Scared.
"I don't care if you are new here. New or not, it doesn't take over thirty minutes to get to my class." He half yelled. I saw the class jump slightly at the increase in volume of his voice, but otherwise did nothing but work.
Mr Way stood up. He was tall, at least a good four or five inches taller than me, "Samantha Phillips?" He asked bored. I slowly nodded, "Okay listen carefully to what I say, because I will not be repeating this again. If you ever turn up late to my class again, it will be an automatic detention for you with me for a week after school, and if that goes on into the Christmas break, then so be it. Normally any new kid that comes to my class late gets a detention instantly. Ask anyone, they'll tell you that I am not lying. But for some reason, I am feeling a little nice today, so you don't get a detention. Again, ask anyone. Now sit down, stay silent, do your work and I'll be a happy man. Do I make myself clear?" He spat.
Oh my god, I actually wished I was back in Maths. Mrs Waterman would be better than him any day of the week, no matter how crap I was feeling. I let his words sink in a little before giving him a sarcastic smile, "Crystal."
He gave me a small nod and sat back down, picking up his pen to grade more papers.
Suddenly, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know where I should sit. All my other teachers have given me a seat, but Mr Way had not. I just continued to stand like a fool at his desk while he marked.
Then, I heard a little noise coming from someone in the classroom. My head slowly turned to them. It was a small girl. Dark skin, braided hair. Very pretty. Her eyes were dark brown and were huge, making her look even cuter.
She mouthed a few words to me, but I couldn't make out what she was trying to say. The other students in the class now had their eyes on the two of us.
The girl gave up and scribbled on a piece of paper and raised it, so I could read. It said; For the love of god, sit the fuck down!
I furrowed my eyebrows and shrugged at her and mouthed, "Where?" She then shrugged and scribbled again on the paper.
Anywhere. Just sit down before he says something.
I read her comment and began frantically looking round the classroom for an empty seat, but seemed to have trouble finding one. Isn't that weird? If you look for something quickly, you are never able to find it.
"Can I help you Miss Phillips?" He cold, harsh voice asked.
My head whipped back round and saw he was this time, glaring at me. Seriously, what had made this guy so angry? "I'm just...looking for a seat -"
He pointed to a seat at front, a little right to his desk, "Just sit there. Do nothing. As long as you're quiet, it doesn't matter what you do, or where you sit." He voice was a little softer this time, and I wondered why.
Slowly, I moved to my seat, and quietly placed my bag down on the floor, and sat in silence for the next half an hour.
The bell finally rang, yet I didn't hear any sighs of relief that this class was over, but I didn't linger on the thought.
The class quickly put all their things together and escaped the room, it was then I heard the sighs of relief.
I picked up my things. I put the map and schedule in my messenger bag and placed the bag on my shoulder. I pulled out my hoodie and put it on, feeling warmer already.
I was just about to leave the awful classroom, and to leave the horrible man by himself, like he should be, when I felt his hand wrap around me arm. I felt a little pain, but didn't think about it.
He turned me to face him. He leaned in towards me and whispered, "You better get here on time tomorrow. I am the one teacher here who can make your life a living hell. I'm sure you wouldn't want that. Now, get the fuck out of my classroom and get the fuck home." He let go of my arm and pushed me away.
I look bewildered at him for only a moment before turning away, and storming out of the room.
When I turned the corner, I saw the girl who told me to sit down, standing against the wall, "Hey." She said.
"Hi." I said warily.
She smiled warmly at me, which made me feel relaxed, "I'm Delilah. I know you're Samantha. I wanted to talk to you about Mr Way."
I furrowed my eyebrows and squinted slightly, "Call me Sam, and okay, sure."
She took my arm and led me away from our Art classroom before she started talking, "We don't do anything in that class except for work. We can never talk no matter what. Anyone who is late, new or not, gets an automatic detention, no lie. Even if it's only a few seconds late, you get a detention. He is never in a good mood."
"So...why are you telling me this?" I asked curiously.
She shrugged, "Like I said, he's never in a good mood. But when you walked in the classroom, it was like he calmed down a little. He never gave you a detention."
I sighed, "I'll ask again; why are you telling me this?"
This time, Delilah sighed, "The fact that he didn't give you a detention showed the rest of the class that he does have a softer side, no matter how small it is. But it was you, the new girl, he decided to show it to."
"I'm still not getting it Delilah."
She stopped walking, so I stopped too. She faced me, and looked at me as if I was the dumbest person to walk the planet, "He's never nice, at all. The second you walked in he calmed down just a fraction. He'll never admit it, but I think he likes you."