"Alright, alright, come in."..."everyone settle down do we can start our first lecture of the day."
The pretty brunette flashed a warm smile at her students, as some grudgingly took their seats. It was a Monday and everyone hated Mondays, including herself.
"Alright then, time for roll call!"
She began calling out their names one after the other as the students responded quickly.
Roll calling wasn't a frequent occurrence. It was only done on special occasions, and today was a special day.
"Dave!"
"Dave!"
Upon calling his name the second time and getting no response, everyone turned towards Dave.
"Dave!" She screamed for the third time as the golden haired Hazel eyes boy jumped from his seat, his posture, that of a man ready for action; both action.
The entire class was thrown into a fit of laughter as both boys and girls pointed at not only his folded fists and his ridiculous defensive stance, but also at the tent om his trousers.
"You have got quite a camper there Dave, you planning on going hiking?" The only matured adult in the room commented as the young teenagers continued laughing.
"Quite a small camper you mean?" A red haired boy jested him as Dave quickly pulled his hands over his crotch.
"I bet I could fit it within the space." A blonde haired girl with hand raised up, showing the tiny bit of space between her index and middle finger.
This was another good joke as the numerous eighteen years old continued laughing.
"Quite a joke Adele, cut it." The brunette teacher quickly tried to take back control of her class as she saw the perverted antics the kids were pulling up to.
"Quite the dream Dave, I hope this wouldn't repeat it self next time," He blushed at her words as she quickly added " I mean you sleeping in my class."
"Yes ma" He said softly.
"Alright back to the...." she paused as she saw his hands were still hovering above his crotch.
"Need a help with that, sorry I mean do you need to go out and help yourself !" She vainly tried to correct herself as the whole class erupted with a syncronized "ooh!"
"Ashhh!" She gritted her teeth , her hand slamming on the front desk forcefully.
Bang!
Decorum was instantly restored as the class was silent like a graveyard.
"Everybody up!" She screamed at the students who quickly got up on their feets.
"Today, I mean business."
Walking up to the black haired short boy with plumpy cheeks and a big framed glasses on his face, wondering why she was coming to him and not Dave or the other loud kids. she lowered her face towards him and asked
"I mean what ?"
"Business!"
They are all screamed in synchronisation, a wide smile plastered on her face. A nervous smile on the poor kid face.
"Good. As you all know, today is the day you check your class, as it's mandated for everyone alive in this world. For your survival, you need to know your class. And sadly your class can also be a big deciding factor on how good your life becomes, unless..." walking slowly to Adele, her hand reaching for her blonde hair, she stroked it softly....."unless your parents are rich like Adele."
"Awwn!" Some of the students muttered as some did in support and others who were obviously rivals, in condescending tone.
"So file out and head towards the testing ground."
The students quickly rushed as some who had yet to overcome the childish attitude of been first in line pushed their way forward.
"And one more thing..." everyone paused in their tracks, turning to face their teacher. " You don't want to get this fists." She said with a pretty smile and an innocent voice.
"Knowing what the fists of a Knight was capable of, most of the students quickly conformed, as a single line was soon formed. And as usual Dave was at the back, his hands covering his makeshift tent.
She peeked at him and gasped, 'what the fuck has that boy been dreaming ?'
**************
You can call me Dave. Born to a farmer and his lovely housewife. Lovely cause it was said that she always won the award for the best housewife. Don't know how my small village judged that criteria, but what I do know was that my parents both died when I was still little and yet to say "Da da". Growing up as an orphan was tough, heck! If not for the church and the kind sister with the white hair who fed me constantly, hunger would have become my surname. As far as I can remember, the only thing I didn't lack was clothes, as it seemed the most lovely housewife of the village had been making clothes for her son, from his childhood up to his teenage years. So during winter I was always warm, at least warm enough not to become a snow man and my lovely but dead mom; God bless her soul , ensured I had only one struggle instead of two.
So growing up was tough, but less tough than it would have been, as all the money I earned both from my honest work and acts of been clever, were spent on feeding. And as a child I looked forward to being an adult, as I had this false sense of confidence, that things would get better for me as an adult than being a child.
Heck! It was why I didn't really mingle with the children in the orphanage home, not because I was proud or I hated them, but I was just too focused on growing up quickly. What a life!
Anyways, one of the reasons I wanted to been an adult was simply because I had experienced being an adult before and life was a lot easier as an poor orphaned adult than a poor orphaned child. You see children are defenseles and there would always be people ready to take advantage of them. And in this new world of mine, it was the same case, just the former, where I was from.