10. Belinda Cogzell

"Take care on your way home, kids," Edward Bartlett said as he waved the students goodbye by the gates. Then, he walked back inside the building. As he went back to his classroom, Belinda Cogzell was sitting on his chair behind the table.

"Oh, hey, Ms. Cogzell," he called to her as he approached her. 

"Hi, Sir Bartlett," she replied with a smile.

He grabbed a spare chair and sat by the table, minding a safe distance from her. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Yeah, you see…" She leaned on the chair with her legs crossed, exposing her perfectly tanned thighs under her bright red pencil skirt. "I've already been working here for a week but I'm still confused on some stuff."

"Oh, sure, what is it?" He genuinely asked as he looked into her eyes.

"I'm still vague on what we, teachers, do aside from teaching."

"Hmm." He leaned back on his chair as if he was thinking. "In a nutshell, as primary teachers, we are responsible for teaching them the national curriculum subjects. We're here to guide them and help them take the first step to education. Aside from teaching, let's see..." He stared his eyes unfocused on the floor underneath Belinda's chair. "We're also responsible for preparing lesson plans, and we're going to be teaching a broad range of topics from various subjects like math, english, music and physical education,” he said as he counted with his fingers.

"And since children have a very short attention span, they get bored really easily," he added. "To avoid that, you will have to be creative in using interactive and engaging teaching methods to encourage them to actively participate in classroom activities to develop their cognitive, numerical and verbal reasoning skills."

“Oh, I see.” She exhaled. “I can be creative,” she said underneath her breath as she crossed her legs in his direction.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “Also, we don't have assistants here so we have to mark their work ourselves. That's why most teachers stay late at school and some even bring their paperworks home with them. And children want to feel special, they'll be more open and cooperative to you if you're able to distinguish them and make them feel special."

"Hmm-mmm, special." She leaned her forearms on the table, pushing her chests on the table exposing her cleavage. "Tell me more about it," she softly said, almost whispering.

"First, you'll have to remember their names. It'll take some time but your efforts will surely take roots.” He chuckled. “Next is their interests. You don't have to be specific to every child, just a few with unique and rare hobbies.And it’ll also help if you share the same interests.”

“Well, there’s no way kids that age would share my…” She inhaled softly. “Interests…”

“Well, that’s fine too,” he replied. “the goal is you'll have to get to know them, make them feel that you want to befriend them. And then you'll always have to provide necessary feedback, encouragement and support. Compliments; a very simple thing that every child longs for. Sometimes I even write little notes on their assignments to interact with them." He softly chuckled in embarrassment.

"Hmm, I see you're a very diligent teacher, Sir Bartlett." She tucked her black hair behind her ear. "But speaking of special, I heard you just got married." She glanced at his hand. "But I see no ring, why is that?"

"Oh." He chuckled. "The marriage was postponed."

"Postponed? From what I heard, the bride didn't show up though." She ran her fingers on the edge of the table. "Did she get cold feet and ran away perhaps?"

"Of course not." He laughed. "My fiancee is just a free-spirited person. She's like a bull, always charging forward."

She extended her hand to him and touched his shoulder. "But how could she leave a man like you...alone?" she said in a slow manner, gently blinking as she gazed into his eyes.

He touched her hand on his shoulder. "Some people might think like that." Then he gently pulled it away and put her hand on the table. "But my fiancee never left me, and never will." He stood up as he forced out a smile. "if you'll excuse me, I have matters to attend to."

"Wait." She sprung up. "I'm sorry if I offended you in any way, I didn't mean to badmouth your fiancee or anything." She lowered her head as she fiddled with her hands.

"It's fine, I'm not offended." He turned to her and patted her shoulder. "Come on, Ms. Cogzell, cheer up. You don't have to feel sorry."

She lifted her head. " But I still feel bad."

He carried the chair he used and put it back to its place. "It's fine, let bygones be bygones, I know you didn't mean it."

"But I still owe you a proper apology," she insisted. "Yeah, why don't I treat you for dinner, how does that sound?"

"Dinner?"

Meanwhile, Zia Scott had been eyeing the school guard at the gate. The class had already ended, no student was permitted to enter the premises again without a valid reason or accompanied by a guardian.

"How did I even end up inside the last time?" she thought to herself as she spied on the guard from a distance.

As her thoughts wandered, the guard had left its post. Finally realizing this, she slipped past the gate and successfully sneaked inside the school campus.

She walked around nonchalantly, blending into the small crowd with her head bobbing around looking for Edward. She looked around the benches scattered around the building but she could not see him. Relying on the other possibility that he was still somewhere inside the campus, she decided to enter the building to look for his classroom.

"Where is it again?" she mumbled to herself as she glanced around the doors on the corridor. While looking around as she walked aimlessly, she fell flat on the floor as she bumped into what felt like a hard pole. When she looked up, it was a bald old man, perhaps a teacher.

The old man crouched down and helped her stand up. "I'm so sorry, little girl. I didn't see you there. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, sir," she replied as she dusted off the dirt on her frilly white skirt.

"Where were you going, little girl?" He crouched down and looked at her.

"Uhmm." She hesitated. "I'm looking for Sir Bartlett."

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Another one of Edward's pupils." He chuckled. "Look here, little girl." He moved beside her and held her shoulders. "If you turn that corner over there," he said as he pointed out his finger. "His room is in the third door you see. He's probably there."

She turned around and smiled from ear to ear. "Thank you, mister." Then she did as he instructed and turned on the corner.

"I think around here..." As she finally stood before the door, she tiptoed as she struggled to turn the knob open.

As she opened it, the sight beyond the door made her feel as if gravity was pulling her hard on the ground. Her whole body felt heavy and numb. And as if oxygen had dispersed from her body, excruciating pain pierced through her heart, she could hardly breath.

Edward was lying on the floor and Belinda was on top of him.

Zia clutched on her heart as she forced a voice to come out of her mouth. "W-what the---"