07| Blue Jeans, White Shirt

JULIE

Mr. Taylor's appearance in the morning made me suddenly remember that I do not have to sit at the back of the class. Because he wanted me to sit in front of him, I had to sit at the first desk in the classroom. 

But I never thought that Blue would already be found sitting on the desk next to mine. 

"Morning, Jules!" She chirps like always, looking like a sunflower in this yellow short dress that reaches her mid-thighs. I have to admit that the girl has sexy legs, unlike mine, fatty and ugly. I do not like my thighs at all. And about my hips, I cannot even glance at them because the wide embarrassing size of them makes me whimper right there. 

Even today I did not want to wear this little white dress, but it was the dress my father had given me on my seventeenth birthday — that is, last year. And I have not even touched this dress since then. My father could not understand this insecurity of mine, so he got me such a lovely dress. But I could not keep this dress decorated forever even in my closet, so thought of wearing it today. Although I am still insecure. 

"Morning, Blue! You're looking like a sunflower!" I voice out my thoughts about her dress. She grins and sits on her bench. I put my bag on my seat and hear her uttering, "And you look like a white lily! Gosh, why don't you wear such dresses always? You're looking more beautiful than you already are, girl!" 

I pass her a forced smile. "I must admit you have a sweet tongue, Blue!" I compliment her way of assuring and that comes out genuine. I am a bit convinced now that I do not look bad in this dress. 

"What? You think I'm buttering you, eh? Come on, Jules, I'm your best cousin, that doesn't mean I'll give you false compliments!" She pouts like Shin Chan and folds her arms on her chest, her breasts suffocating as she does this. "Just look around yourself and see how much attention you're grabbing!" She adds in finality and I do as she says, wondering if they are making ugly faces by looking at my legs. 

I run my eyes around and spot many of the boys in my class staring at me with open-mouthed. I did not expect that, I swear. It feels like they are frozen. Some are smirking at me and it makes me squirm in my place. I immediately look away from Elijah when I find him gazing at my legs, his eyes seeming darker than usual. 

And when I find Jeremy standing at the door — as if he is frozen, I cannot help but ask him, "Why are you late?" Because I expect him to arrive at the campus with his sister, Blue. 

"Jules!" He calls me unexpectedly loudly and rushes to me. I cannot comprehend his intentions as he as fast as an eagle, pastes a kiss on my cheek, wetting it slightly. 

"You look wonderful today! Why don't you wear such dresses daily?" He says the same words as Blue and I cannot help but feel hot. Probably because of my shy nature. I know I am blushing hard. 

"Ya, why don't you, Jules? You're looking amazing just as the Bradley siblings said!" This is Joshua, who is yelling from the back of his seat. 

I hear some girls scoffing behind me but the flattering remarks flying around me make me ignore those girls. I shyly put my strands behind my ear though they are already secured because of the clips in my head, and murmur a small, "Thank you," to all those who complimented me. 

"Geez! You look so cute!" Blue whispers in my ear but before I can answer her, I hear the faint sound of the door sliding before Mr. Taylor steps inside and the class greets him. 

Before his deep voice greets us back, I am once again captivated by his strong manly woody scent that surrounds the atmosphere like particles of aroma fusing into the air. 

As usual, he ran around the whole class with one look as if he was taking assurance of the presence of each and every student. And on the other hand, the girls here watered his pride by admiring him like the prince of their dreams. 

I roll my eyes when I see Nicole giving Mr. Taylor a seductive smile while batting her eyelashes. 

Mr. Taylor is going to blush hard because one of the most beautiful girls is giving him her attention. With that same thought, I secretly steal a glance at Mr. Taylor, and surprisingly, he looks away with a jaw clenched. 

What? He did not feel butterflies in his stomach? But I am sure Mr. Francisco smirked when Nicole gave him the same dirty look on his first day at Silver Valley High. 

Perhaps he is not into young girls. Then, is he into old women? 

I think deeply about it, unable to understand why this bothers me so much. 

"Ms. Dawson?" 

I just should not think about it too deeply because it is none of my business. Mr. Taylor is just my professor, I can not believe I am thinking about his interest in women while sitting in his class. 

"Ms. Dawson!" 

I blink my eyes rapidly as I look up at the loud source of the sound. And I find Mr. Taylor — once again — glaring down at me. What the hack is my problem! Why cannot I stop overthinking something? 

"Sir?" I say, my voice coming out low. I am not ready to receive insult once again. He already embarrassed me a few minutes ago. 

"I was asking if should I expect your father at ten o'clock today, or did you forget to inform him?"

Oh!

"I informed him, sir," I say with a small nod to highlight what I said in case he did not hear me. 

"Hm," he nods acknowledging, and marched to his usual place. He starts revising us about the topic he left yesterday and it is then I notice his appearance fully. 

He is dressed up well like always. He wears a white shirt. Sleeves are rolled up his elbows, and the skin and muscles on his arms are in bold view. He wears blue jeans down and a pair of sneakers. He looks younger in this attire. Even his white cotton shirt is wonderfully ironed. His raven hair is gelled, and laid back, giving him a sharp look. He is looking handsome and I remember a song that Blue mumbled most of the time. 

"Sir," my thoughts are interrupted by Nicole's sharp and fake baby voice. 

"Yes?" He stops explaining and looks at Nicole. I follow his gaze and there, Nicole, trying to sit straight and clear her throat before putting her question. 

"It's the amount of share capital that a company is allowed to issue to its shareholders as per its constitutional documents," he explains in a sentence and I wonder where Nicole's brain resides when we solve questions related to it almost every time? 

She does not even know what authorized capital is? 

"What a brilliant attention seeker she is! Even Jeremy knows what's authorized capital, for god's sake, stop acting dumb, Nicole!" Blue mutters next to him and I kind of expected the same. Nicole is not that weak. It was just a dumb excuse to get Mr. Taylor's attention. 

I do not say anything to Blue, because I know Mr. Taylor does not hear anybody gossiping but me. 

"Oh, I forgot it, thank you, sir!" 

Why is it necessary to use a baby voice and batting eyelashes like this? 

Mr. Taylor nods and then starts explaining to us. He perches his hip against the side of his desk and his hand holds a book while the other has a board marker stuck between his long slender fingers. He reads a few lines and explains to us, before proving it through an illustration. 

Even while teaching, he looks hot. I am noticing it for the first time. And now I understand why the girls in my class behold him dreamingly all the while. 

I put my face in my palm as I stare at the board. My fingers keep moving, noting the things. He reads, speaks, and then explains. I must admit his teaching style is quite amazing. Even better than Mrs. Lavigne's way. This man is dedicated to his job. 

"But, sir, we have a Capital Reserve given," Nicole reminds him and I resist the urge to roll my eyes hard. 

"We have SPR by issuing shares on premium, you dumb Nicole," I mutter under my breath, looking down at my desk on which I have been carving hearts and stars a moment back. 

"Yes, Nicole, but we've earned SPR by issuing shares on premium," he explains, "you should've asked Ms. Dawson, I'm sure she got it clear." 

When I raise my eyelashes to peer at him, I cannot help but sigh. His hearing ability is very sharp. He even heard me muttering under my breath. 

I do not know what Nicole's reaction is, as I lower my head and continue my work of doodling on the desk. Mr. Taylor does not seem to yell at me like before. 

This is how time passes. I keep listening to Mr. Taylor while doodling, but sometimes I forget that Mr. Taylor is standing in front of us giving a lecture. 

But never thought that this moment would end so soon. Suddenly my notebook, on which I had just started to doodle, is taken away by someone. When I looked up, I was shocked to see my notebook in Mr. Taylor's hand. 

"Wow, just look at it! Here the whole class is paying attention to my notes, and understanding the questions, and Ms. Dawson is dreaming of becoming an artist." 

My eyes shut and I am ready to get insulted once again. The class has already started to laugh at Mr. Taylor's not-so-funny joke that is famously about me. 

He pretends to peek into my notebook and raises his brows as if surprised by my doodling. "And what did you draw, Ms. Dawson, hm? A monkey eating a banana! Applause!" 

Did I draw it? 

The class burst into a bubble of laughter and started clapping for me. I am beyond embarrassed right now. What does this man want from me? I never even gossiped about it to anyone though I would like to tell everybody about his evil nature. He is such a devil. 

Once everyone stops laughing, Mr. Taylor decides to say something right.

"All of you, you're dismissed." The class starts to pack their stuff, leaving for the next class which is Music — additional. "And Ms. Dawson, this is the third day when I am warning you. In my class, I don't appreciate the students who space out a lot more than achieving good marks!" He is saying this gruffly and I keep my head low. He is frustrating me and nothing else. And I am even more frustrated when I see — from the corner of my eye, Nicole standing at the door and listening to what Mr. Taylor is saying to me. 

"Yes, sir," I mutter. I hate you. 

"And I hope that next time I will not have to remind you like this." Yeah, like insulting me. Is this how teachers are supposed to treat their students? I am so done! I hate him so much! 

"Yes, sir," the tone is the same. I am not going to regret it after. 

"And pray that you won't get scolded by your father when you reach home!" My eyes snap up at him when I realize he has been threatening me so clearly. What is he? Teacher or a gangsta? 

"Be careful then, Ms. Dawson. Have a great day!" He throws a mocking grin in my direction and I cannot help but look at him in distaste. He will tattletale to my dad, right? I grit my teeth while getting up and packing my stuff. 

"This is too loud, Ms. Dawson!" He utters, still standing next to my desk. I cannot help but grit my teeth even more loudly. I grab my things and put — more like throw them in my knapsack. Once I am done, I throw the knapsack over my shoulder and glare at him. 

He is still looking down at me with those dark narrowed eyes. His arms are coiled up against his chest. He looks so intimidating but right now, I am no less angry with him. He needs to taste real fun and I will make him do it, then it does not matter if he adds it to his complaint lists to represent it before my dad. 

"Have a great day, Mr. Taylor." I force out a smile and as I take a step to leave, I force it down on his shoe-covered feet before I make a run to leave the damn room. 

"Fuck!" I hear him cursing behind me but unfortunately for him, I am already out of the classroom — out of his reach, giggling after I cross a corridor. It was fun doing it!