Chapter 6: The Beauty Professor in Love
Calmly opening the door, the hinges creaked slightly as Dante stepped into the room. The atmosphere hung thick with expectation, as if every gaze was directed at him. He walked toward his usual seat at the back, exuding an apparent calm that masked his inner unease. He greeted his classmates with a nod, receiving curious looks and smiles in return.
The girls in the class, noticing his presence, hurried over. They were a close-knit group, but each had a special bond with Dante, reflected in the nuances of their interactions.
Clara Jaymes was the first to speak. With her long dark hair and almond-shaped eyes revealing her Asian heritage, she was a magnetic beauty. Her curvy figure, particularly her ample bosom, made her one of the most popular girls at school. Since childhood, countless boys had tried in vain to declare their feelings and win her affection, but to no avail. However, Dante saw beyond in that girl: he found in Clara a kind and caring figure, always ready to smile and offering help to others when needed.
"Dante, where have you been these past few days? We were worried sick!" she asked in a sweet voice, lightly resting a hand on his arm.
Next to her was Lisa Sullivan, her best friend since childhood. The long brown hair fell gracefully over her shoulders, framing a sweet and serene face. Like Clara, Lisa possessed an impressive figure that attracted many gazes, but her beauty did not make her aloof. On the contrary, Lisa was the girl Dante could always trust, a constant and reassuring presence. "You haven't been in touch with us at all!" she added with a smile that masked genuine concern.
The other two girls who stood beside Lisa were the Valentine twins, Aurora and Blaire—almost enigmatic in their similarity, yet distinct in the details that made each unique.
Aurora, with her raven-black hair neatly styled and shining under the fluorescent lights of the classroom, exuded elegance and confidence. Her figure was always impeccable, and today her expertly unbuttoned blouse revealed a generous bosom that turned many heads. It was an image of calculated provocation, but only Dante knew that behind that confident facade, Aurora harbored a tender heart. Unbeknownst to him, Aurora had harbored a huge crush on him since their freshman year—a deep feeling that, though never openly declared, revealed itself in small gestures and fleeting smiles she shot him when she thought he wasn't looking.
Blaire, the blonde twin with hints of blue in her hair, was equally beautiful, but her style was more understated, though no less captivating. Her blouse was also unbuttoned, showcasing her curvaceous figure, but there was an innate dignity in her, a composure that set her apart from her sister. Like Aurora, Blaire secretly felt the same affection for Dante, but unlike her twin, she managed to keep a certain distance, veiling her true feelings behind a facade of friendly indifference. Yet, every now and then, her eyes betrayed the affection she felt for him—a fleeting glance that Dante could only catch during her moments of vulnerability.
Dante paused, offering a tranquil smile, trying to maintain an air of detachment while feeling the warmth of their friendship enveloping him. "It's nothing serious, girls. Just a few personal issues, but it's all good now."
Before he could say more, the classroom door swung open decisively, and Professor Laetha Grandor entered. Instantly, a respectful silence fell over the room.
Laetha Grandor was their English teacher—a woman of rare beauty, with long purple hair cascading in soft waves down her back, framing a face with delicate yet intense features. Her icy blue eyes seemed always able to pierce the soul of anyone they met, revealing a depth few would ever dare to explore. She wore a form-fitting white blouse that accentuated her slender figure, paired with a black flared skirt that highlighted her long, smooth legs. The high heels she walked on with grace emitted a rhythmic, almost hypnotic sound as she made her way to the front of the class.
"Alright, everyone, sit down and get ready to start lesson. Open your textbooks to page 134," she ordered in a calm yet authoritative voice, a tone that left no room for discussion.
As the students hurried to obey, she cast a fleeting glance at Dante, and her heart skipped a beat. Since the first time she had seen him, something about him had struck her profoundly—something that brought her back to a past she had tried to bury.
As the lesson progressed, with her passionately explaining the English Romantic poetry, she couldn't help but steal occasional glances toward the back of the classroom where Dante sat, seemingly absorbed in her words. Each time their eyes met, she felt a pang in her chest—a bittersweet ache.
Dante reminded her painfully of her deceased ex-boyfriend, William. William had been her first great love, a darkly charming and rebellious boy who had broken every rule of their small provincial world. They had lived an intense and overwhelming love until the tragic accident that took him away from her far too soon.
***
It was an ordinary September morning when Laetha first encountered Dante...
It had been her first lesson at the school as a new teacher, and he had arrived late, entering with an air of indifference and confidence. He had walked straight to the back of the classroom without offering an apology, sitting down with a nonchalance that had struck her. When their eyes had first locked, the woman felt an electric shock course through her body. For a moment, she saw William in him, as if time had stopped and her beloved had returned to life.
Her heart had begun to race, and for the rest of the lesson, she struggled to maintain her focus. Every gesture, every word he spoke, brought her back to those happy yet painful moments. She tried to ignore those feelings, to suppress the memory, but each time she saw Dante, the past came crashing back.
***
Returning to the present, she struggled to shift her attention back to the lesson. But she knew that this boy had awakened something dangerous within her—something she needed to keep hidden. No matter how much she tried to deny it, the truth was undeniable: she was falling for Dante. Every time she saw him, her heart remembered what it had lost, and the wound, never completely healed, cracked open again.
As she continued to explain, she wondered how long she could maintain control over those feelings. She knew she should keep a professional distance, but with each passing day, that distance became harder to preserve. Dante was dangerous, not only for what he represented but also for what he could awaken within her.
Yet, despite everything, she couldn't help but yearn for those moments when their gazes met—brief instances when she felt the world stop, and the memory of a lost love mingled with the hope for a new beginning.
The first hour of the lesson flew by in the blink of an eye.
The bell rang, breaking the attention of the students, who promptly began chatting among themselves, forming little groups scattered around the classroom. Dante, however, remained in his seat at the back. While the others animatedly discussed the upcoming weekend and the latest gossip, he opened his book, losing himself in the pages of one of the great classics of science fiction, Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451.
The worn cover and yellowed page edges revealed that this book had been read many times before, but every word seemed new to Dante, as if he discovered something different each time he returned to those pages—something that resonated deeply within him.
Laetha, busy organizing her notes at the front of the class, noticed how Dante immersed himself in reading, completely indifferent to the chaos surrounding him. She couldn't help but feel intrigued. There was something about this boy that set him apart from the others—something that made him irresistibly fascinating in her eyes.
Deciding not to ignore the sensation that pulled her towards him, she walked over confidently yet gently, crossing the classroom to approach Dante. The students, engrossed in their conversations, paid little attention as the professor naturally sat on the desk in front of him, causing Dante to glance up slightly from his book.
"What are you reading, Dante?" she asked with a faint smile, her tone softer than usual, almost intimate.
Dante, surprised by the woman's interest, closed the book while keeping his finger between the pages to mark his spot. He looked up to meet her gaze, which held a hidden sweetness beneath her usual composure.
"Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury," he replied, showcasing the book cover. "A classic of science fiction."
She nodded, recognizing the title immediately. "One of my favorites. A dystopian vision that reflects a lot of our society, wouldn't you agree?"
The youth smiled slightly. "Yeah, I think so too. The repression of knowledge, the fight for free thought... it's astounding how prescient Bradbury was."
Laetha was struck by the depth of Dante's response. Few students his age would answer with such insight. "It's rare to find someone your age so interested in such readings. What fascinates you about this book?"
Dante took a moment to reflect, then sincerely expressed himself. "I think what intrigues me most is the idea of a world where books are burned, where knowledge is seen as a threat. But it's also the hope that emerges in the protagonist, Montag—that desire to rediscover what it truly means to be alive, that touches me profoundly. I think I... in some way, feel connected to him."
Laetha fell silent for a moment, processing Dante's words. She couldn't help but notice the vulnerability hidden behind that statement. Perhaps it was her instinct as a teacher, or perhaps something deeper, but she felt a strong desire to understand more about this boy, to uncover what lay hidden behind that seemingly imperturbable facade.
"I see what you mean," she replied, trying to keep the conversation professional while feeling an attraction stirring within her. "I've always admired Montag for his braveness, for his ability to rediscover beauty amid chaos. It's really an important lesson, especially in difficult times."
Dante looked at her curiously. "Do you think we live in difficult times too?"
Laetha smiled, revealing a sad expression. "Every era has its challenges, young man. There are always battles to fight, struggles to face. But it's at these moments that we must find the courage to rediscover what truly matters. And books... books help us do just that."
Dante nodded slowly at her words. "Right... books show us paths we otherwise wouldn't see."
Their exchange was interrupted by the arrival of the next teacher, Professor Felicia Thompson, their History teacher, who entered the room with a determined air and a register under her arm. Laetha stood up from Dante's desk, casting one last intense look at the boy before returning to the front.
"Well, I suppose I must leave you to your reading now," she said. "There's a lot you might discover... about yourself."
Dante watched her walk away, still lost in thoughts provoked by that brief yet intense conversation. Professor Thompson began calling the roll as Laetha moved toward the exit, and the students settled back into their seats, but in Dante's and Laetha's minds, questions hung suspended that only time could answer.