The Boy I Shouldn’t Want

2* Nichole Jeffery

The bell rang, and I was certain it was the beginning of classes.

But the stranger kept coming back to my mind.

No matter how hard I tried to push him away from my thoughts, his face still appeared.

“Goodness, Kim, stop,” I scolded myself inwardly as I marched hurriedly through the corridors.

Just like everyone else, I was walking briskly toward the lecture room.

I stopped and inhaled when finally I saw the entrance to the classroom.

“Great, Kim. Now let’s kill the first lesson. Your goal of becoming a nurse, you shall.”

I said to myself and stepped forward, walking through the entrance.

My eyes searched for an empty seat, and I was immediately heading toward the one close to the windows.

I slammed my hand on the desk when I saw a girl just like me about to dive into the seat.

“Sorry, honey, this seat is mine. Take the next one.”

I didn’t even finish speaking before I slid into the seat.

She huffed and rolled her eyes as she took the seat behind me.

She was way shorter than me, with short hair and freckles scattered around her face.

I was glad I had reached the seat before she took over, and I smiled to myself.

I dropped my bag on the desk and inhaled as the cold breeze from the long glass window continued to wash into the classroom, hitting my face and blowing strands of my hair around.

I stretched out my hands and stayed like that for what felt like forever as more students continued to march into the classroom.

Finally, I brought my hands down and began taking the strands of hair away from my face.

I took out my phone to check the notification that had just come in.

Bob had just sent me a selfie of himself sitting in Mum’s car.

He was grinning, with two of his fingers raised in a peace sign.

And beneath the picture, he had written:

Use as your screensaver.

I looked at the ceiling before quickly typing back.

Okay, my love.

I was just about to send it when I noticed the tall, heavy-looking teacher walking into the classroom.

A textbook rested beneath his arm.

He looked like he was about to snap at any moment.

Grey hair already covered his head, and his expression was enough to make several students straighten in their seats.

“Quiet down, students!”

His voice echoed loudly through the classroom as he slammed the textbook onto the desk at the front.

The sound was heavy.

Or maybe it was simply the way he had slammed the book down.

The classroom immediately became quiet as everyone found a spot to sit.

I adjusted myself on my seat and put my phone away, turning my attention toward the man standing in front of us.

“As you all know, you’re starting your first year at Hilford University. I am Mr. Brown Smith. I graduated from the University of North America, first-class graduate.”

He said it with pride, his voice echoing through the classroom as he looked at each and every one of us.

“And I’m going to be your Chemistry teacher.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“I expect you all to pay attention to what I teach because if ever I catch you disturbing my class, I am going to walk you out.”

He paused.

“And if I point at you to answer my questions and you have nothing to say, I am going to walk you out.”

Another pause.

“And if ever I come before you in class and you are still misbehaving, I am going to walk you out.”

He turned his neck slowly, looking around the classroom.

“So you know, I’m a disciplinarian who doesn’t tolerate nonsense. Keep your best behavior and you wouldn’t have issues with me.”

I swallowed.

Okay.

He was definitely one of those teachers.

“And once again, welcome to Hilford University.”

He picked up his textbook.

“Now, today’s topic is going to be Balancing Chemical Equations.”

He walked toward the board and began scribbling the topic across it.

I quickly took out my notebook from my bag and began jotting down the words.

Mr. Brown reminded me of my Mathematics teacher in high school.

She had been chubby, loud and stern.

Mrs. Godwin.

I still remembered the day she was attacked by the dog belonging to the boy, Williams.

I could still remember his thick hair. He never seemed to trim or cut it. It simply stood erect on his head, matching the mischievous smile he always carried around.

Mrs. Godwin had scolded him one afternoon, calling him a sheephead after she caught him wearing headphones in her class.

She had sent him out.

The next day, Williams brought his big black dog to school.

And somehow, he managed to make the dog chase Mrs. Godwin around the corridors of the high school.

I could still remember Mrs. Godwin running and screaming like her life depended on it, her hands flying into the air as she begged someone to rescue her.

She eventually fell face-first onto the floor.

And broke her front tooth.

Williams had been expelled from school before finishing his senior year.

I almost smiled at the memory.

Almost.

Then I remembered I was in class.

I leaned against the desk as Mr. Brown continued explaining what a chemical equation was and how we were supposed to balance one.

He kept looking at each and every one of us.

To me, his expression seemed like he was just waiting to catch someone so he could use them as a scapegoat.

But none of the students was giving him the chance.

As my eyes moved around the classroom, everyone seemed to be paying attention.

Then Mr. Brown began asking questions.

I had already jotted down the possible answers to the questions he was likely to ask.

I was prepared.

I watched him point toward the desk in front of me.

At first, I thought he was pointing at me, and I was already beginning to rise to my feet when the lean boy with burnt-orange hair stood up instead.

He began speaking, moving his hands as he demonstrated his answer.

Mr. Smith asked three more people questions before turning back toward the board.

I rested my hands beneath my face as I watched the man write another formula on the board.

Then the boy from earlier came marching through the entrance.

I was stupefied.

My heart did several jumps at once.

I immediately raised my head from my hands.

It was him.

I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again.

No.

I wasn’t imagining him.

It was really him.

The same stranger from the stairs.

I didn’t know why I suddenly felt so excited just seeing him inside the classroom.

He had a laptop bag hanging over one shoulder, and he was still wearing the same outfit from earlier.

Only this time, his white shirt was buttoned higher.

Mr. Smith suddenly turned when he noticed someone’s presence.

I noticed the withdrawn look on his face.

I had been expecting him to scold the boy.

To send him out of the class just as he had promised and warned us.

But he didn’t.

Instead, as the boy moved toward an empty desk, Mr. Smith said,

“Mr. Nichole Jeffery, you’re forty minutes late to my class.”

The teacher looked down at his wristwatch before raising his eyes toward him.

Nichole Jeffery.

So that was his name.

I stared at him.

I couldn’t bear to take my eyes off him.

Apparently, neither could the rest of the students because almost everyone’s eyes were fixed on him now.

He sat down on the desk as though nothing had happened, looking completely relaxed.

The Chemistry teacher even knew his name.

Who was he, really?

Maybe they knew each other before?

I wondered.

“Mr. Smith.”

His deep voice suddenly rumbled through the classroom.

My pulse spiked.

Good Lord.

What?!

He had the voice of a god.

A deep, commanding voice that sounded like it belonged to some powerful CEO who owned half the city.

I couldn’t believe the voice I had just heard.

Not only was he this hot…

His voice was this sexy too?

“I took a break. I wanted to be alone.”

He said it without a single trace of fear in the world.

His tone almost sounded like,

What are you going to do about it?

I threw my eyes toward Mr. Smith.

I was expecting the worst from the man.

Surely, this handsome stranger, who wasn’t really a stranger anymore, was about to get thrown out.

My body almost trembled for his sake.

But to my utter shock, and I bet everyone else felt the same way I did, Mr. Smith simply turned back toward the board.

And continued writing the formula.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

My brows lowered in confusion.

What the heck just happened here?