Rule Breaker

It was that time again. Monday at 4.p.m.

I’d set my eyes on him for the first time every week.

He’d walk by with those black trousers and that long, blue trench coat that made people look like they were walking into an interview - but he was a teacher and he didn't have to dress like this. His black, tight curls were shaking a little as his baby blue eyes were aimlessly searching as we waited.

And yes, I’d divert my gaze onto my surroundings, hoping he wouldn’t catch it – although sometimes I’d often wonder that he did. My heart was beating out of my chest as we waited for a room to vacate so we could begin our lesson. Trembling a little, I would often be the one who entered the room after a few people.

Never first, because I was too embarrassed to be with him in a room before everyone, but never last because I knew that the group would stare at me. Judge me. Wondering why the hell I came last. That way I would be found out.

Placing his leather bag onto the desk, he fiddled around with the mouse to start the computer. I, on the other hand, was wondering where to sit. Would it be in front, at the side, at the back or in the middle somewhere. There were around thirty swivel chairs laid out for us, with a little desk to place our equipment on. I had to quickly choose a space before they were all gone.

“Hey.” My friend gestured. “We’re sitting here.” My mind almost dissolved the fact that my friends were with me. I was rather lucky in the aspect that I had such good friends.

We sat in our little friendship groups, as my primary teacher used to call them, and waited for the lesson to start.

Well, the hour lesson and hour where we'd just talk in our groups. One of the most gruelling two hours I had, since I knew for that time I had to sit right in front of him for the whole time.

The room had no tables, so we were all floating around the class on our wheelie chairs. I sat at the front beside my friends.

Everyone around me had begun their conversations, while I got set up with my laptop – ready to write down anything important – although, most of the time we would go off on a tangent and start babbling on about embarrassing moments. Sometimes he’d even smack his hand onto the table, as a humorous joke to make sure we paid attention. That was just one of the things that made me burst out laughing.

“So today-“ He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of spectacles. Just like mine (only they actually looked cuter on him), yet a darker, black colour. “- we will look at the features of publishing…” I began frantically typing as the slides shows up in front of me. “Hey!” He screamed, with a hint of sarcasm and banged his fist onto the table. “I need a gavel. I love hitting my hand on the table, I feel like a judge in court.” He did it once more with a big grin on his face and the class broke into smiles. Carrying on, he began to explain publishing in a magazine aspect, and I paid close attention.

Time crawled and it was finally time to break off into our groups.

For some reason, I volunteered to be captain of my group, so I would occasionally report back to the main man – which was a stupid idea, since I was a little afraid, and nervous, to even open my mouth to him.

“So, marketing! What have you guys come up with?” He spoke with his London accent to us and I immediately froze.

The group looked at me and I couldn’t speak – my body was burning up whilst the awkward silence past.

“We talked about how the magazine should be advertised more, with flyers and maybe get a table in the hall where we’d share what it was about.” I smiled a little at my friend, whose eyes acknowledged my feelings in that moment. I was thankful.

Truly.

He glanced at me and simpered, knowing I was too shy to talk anyway. I was usually one of those at a party who’d hover over the food and drinks and avoided eye contact with almost everyone in room – just so I wouldn’t be forced to socialise.

Only then had I noticed that he removed his coat and revealed a deep purple buttoned shirt. It was a little tight and showed the creases of his muscles underneath. Whenever he moves, my eyes followed with him.

His feet pattered around the room as he moved to other groups and waited for their opinions.

We’d feedback to the class – it wasn’t one of my strong suits – but my friend took the reins.

And the whole-time voices were heard, I focused my attention to my phone.

There was only five minutes left until I could dash out of the door I was so close to. But, at the same time, I whizzed my eyes back onto him to just admire the concentration he’d give to each student.

He was one of those who’d actually listen and not grill you if you were wrong. A soft and comical approach was more his style and we all loved him for it. And I mean all of us.

“So that’s all-“ Once heard those words come out of his mouth, there was the ruffling of cots and bags as people had the urge to pack away and leave.

I was always the slow one, only because each time I had to heave my laptop into my bag.

People left the classroom and I said my goodbyes, wishing them well until I saw them tomorrow.

As I left, I hear my name and I pause.

“How did you find today?” He asked me and I stuttered out my answer.

“G-good. I can’t wait to see what y-you have planned tomorrow.” He beamed at me and stuffed his glasses into his bag, then clipped it shut. I allowed him to walk in front of and he opened to door.

“After you.” I slightly smiled at him and stepped out and he followed closely behind.

“See you tomorrow!”

Watching him walk away made me feel a little heartbroken, but relieved because I knew that I would no longer have the need to rush to the sink and bawl up my insides.

Tomorrow, it would start all over again. I would tremble, shake, freeze and stutter my way through.

But, my feelings, they were forbidden.

And I wasn’t a rule breaker.