Bodyguard: Ace Cain

|Mr. Cain| Never fall for the boyfriend of your best friend, they say. When, in fact, they ought to be warning you not to fall for your attractive, youthful bodyguard—who just so happens to be your teacher. This was not intended to occur this way. Attachment feelings were to be minimized. However, I completely failed that mission. The good news is that I was not the only one who violated that agreement. The tale, which we had anticipated to be straightforward, proved to be more intricate than we had anticipated. It began the week following the first day of classes. Our original art history instructor made the decision to retire. Mrs. Petula was, admittedly, quite elderly. After years of service as an instructor at Arbor High, she deservedly needed a vacation. Who exactly would replace her was a mystery, but it did not take long for some high school kids to start rumors. It was only when we noticed a name scrawled on the whiteboard that people began to converse more. The whispering was astronomical as my friend Tana and I found our seats in the cramped space. Though the name remained faceless, one could only speculate as to what this Mr. Cain might look like. The name gave the impression that it would be some old guy again. Is there any reason why this school could not hire someone who is a little younger? "Who do we think this guy is gonna be?" Tana asked as we took a seat. Smiling, I admit I do not really care to know. "Hopefully, whoever it is is more capable than Mrs. Petula." She chuckles. "If he turns out to be a looker, maybe I will get more invested in this class." I roll my eyes. "Oh, please, art and history are two things you'll never enjoy," I counter. "Even if it turns out that he is attractive." Tana is not the most academically gifted person I have ever met, at least not in my experience, especially when it comes to historical subjects. Tana was going to nod off, whether it was world history or something as basic as art history. It was hard to blame her—the lectures do get boring at times. I will not even begin to discuss the films they force us to watch. I felt like hitting the snooze button just thinking about it. Art was something I cherished. My mother introduced me to some amazing artistic visuals when I was a young child. I learned a lot from her, as she was also an artist. Being the daughter of a Helix meant that I had to match my parents' intelligence and skill level. They would do anything to ensure that I was flawless. Regretfully, it implied that there was no margin for error. My dad would not let me hear the end of it if I made the smallest error. Particularly in light of my mother's disappearance, but more on that later. The class was still whispering about the new teacher when the bell rang. The collective silence that descended between us was telling; I am not sure what everyone was expecting. The door slowly swung open, and a very attractive man emerged. He had stunning hazel eyes, dark hair, and a tall build. His jawline had a definition that was to die for. Let us not even talk about how his outfit revealed his body. It seemed as though his garments were on the verge of ripping. The guys looked on in jealousy as the girls gawked at him in wonder. Our prayers for a hot teacher appeared to have been answered. The only thing about him that surprised us was how young he appeared. Looking around the space. Mr. Cain glanced around, seemingly disturbed by the quietness. Has this guy previously instructed a class? It seemed as though he was at a loss for words, let alone actions. It was turning into a big staring contest, and neither of us was helping him. Some of the faces were frowning, while others had smiles on them. Even without making an introduction, Mr. Cain appeared to have gained both allies and detractors. Glancing around again, those succulent eyes met mine, making me jump a little in my chair. I am not sure if it was his handsome appearance or his hardened gaze, but feeling him engulf me in this way made my cheeks flush. It may be my imagination, but it felt like I had taken him back just as much as he had taken me back. It was a weird feeling. He cleared his throat and called out to me with a soft smile on his face. "You," he uttered. "What is your name?" I felt more heat rising on my face as all eyes were fixed on me. "R-reign," I stumbled to say. "Reign Helix." I made an effort to sound more assured. "Okay, Ms. Helix, pass out these papers for me." He opened up the briefcase he was carrying. I turned to face Tana, who gave me the go-ahead with her eyes. Reluctantly, I make my way to the front of the class to collect the papers he requests that I distribute. I go around the room, giving a piece to each person, myself included. The class looked over the paper in dead silence. Upon first glance, it appeared to outline the topics we would be covering in this class now that Mrs. Petula is not here. In case we needed to get in touch with him for any questions, it also included his contact details. There would be more to this class than just lectures and once-a-weekly films. Mr. Cain intended to put us to work. Something I doubted this class was able to accomplish. If he believed this class would be so open to change, he was in for a harsh awakening. Mr. Cain sat behind the desk and, much to the ire of some students, glanced around at us once more. For years, this class has remained the same. People begged to take it every year because it was more laid back. Until this point, no challenge had been presented. Despite the absurd number of disgruntled campers, Mr. Cain was not going to back down. "What on earth is this meant to be?" Jake became very animated. He never really possessed much of a filter. Mr. Cain straightened up and put his hands in his pockets. He grinned and said, "This is what we will be covering for the next eightish months." Tana chuckled. "I thought this was an art class." I smiled at her as she laughed. "Art history," he brings up again. "We are not going to limit ourselves to just drawing or watching movies. We will acquire knowledge." Hearing this news, the class let out a frustrated groan. This was not a work-based class. It was our one chance to unwind before a demanding school day. Furthermore, we were seniors. Learning was not the main focus of our thoughts. Our primary concerns were prom and eventually graduating. The class that everyone had once begged to take became one that nobody wished to attend. The complaints from the class did not seem to bother Mr. Cain. To our dismay, he stuck to his changes. To their disappointment, that is. Whatever he chose to do, I did not care. After all, he was the instructor. A few are more laid back than others. Mr. Cain is one of the purists and values art highly. It was, dare I say it, kind of hot. You do not come across someone who values color's beauty very often. All of them keep bitching while I stay silent the entire time. I assumed that would make him ignore me, but instead it made him more aware of me. I think he wanted to hear my opinion because he saw that I had not said anything about it. It would not matter if I was against it or not, to be honest. He was still going to follow his own path. "Ms. Helix, would you like to add something to the mountain of grievances that already exist?" He inquired. He has now singled me out twice. My shoulders shrugged, and everyone looked at me again. "Is it important what I think?" I put him on the spot. Stooping over the desk, he gave a nod. "Course it does. He meets my gaze and says, "Let me hear it." Feeling the pressure just from his eyes, I take a gulp. "Well, to be honest, I do not really care," I say. "I already know a lot about art history." He raised an eyebrow at my answer, looking intrigued by it. He had no idea that I grew up in an environment like this. I only took this class to unwind and get a simple grade. Everything he has in store for us, I am ready for. I was not going to be like everyone else—including my close friend Tana—who might struggle. Mr. Cain felt like intimidating me for some reason. Maybe because he knew only my name, but I am not sure. It was a little unsettling. He puts his hands together, grinning. "Alright, then I know who to ask those tough questions." He gets to his feet. "Should we take attendance?" He then snatched up the attendance sheet and called out everyone's name. I looked at Tana, perplexed as to why he had chosen to start picking on me. Mr. Cain seemed like trouble, and if my father found out, that is exactly what I would get into.