Sunlight poured in through the windows, creating a gentle illumination that made the classroom feel warm and welcoming.
The air buzzed with excited voices and rustling papers. As Lyka's steady voice broke through the noise, it gradually faded.
"Let's start the class,"
Some students in the front row leaned forward, eager to learn.
As she moved to the whiteboard, the classroom became more lively. Even the bullies, usually quick to cause trouble, focused their attention on her.
"Check out her body" one of them whispered, causing a ripple of low laughter.
Each time she wrote, her brown blazer slightly lifted, revealing hints of her soft skin beneath the thin white shirt.
This sparked fantasies among the boys. Her attention, however, was fixed solely on one person: Asher.
She sighed, knowing it would be best to keep her distance from him, but desire was a powerful emotion.
His maturity set him apart from his peers, which might explain her feelings. He was also very attractive.
Asher sensed her gaze and turned. For a brief moment, their eyes met, but she quickly looked away.
She worried that the other students might catch a glimpse of a facial expression not meant for a teacher to show to her student.
'Why do older women always think about this stuff?' he sighed, recognizing the look on her face all too well.
He also noticed some female students watching him, their eyes glinting with interest as they admired his face.
This was why he didn't believe in true love. With his looks, he could attract girls easily, but he knew those connections were superficial.
As the lessons continued, he seized the opportunity to steal a few moments of rest. His eyes grew heavy, and after a few seconds, he finally let himself drift off.
The girls watching him noticed it, but none dared to call him out.
"Look at him," whispered by one girl, her eyes wide with admiration. "He's so handsome when he's sleeping."
"Totally hot," another giggled, her phone ready to snap a picture. "I have to get this."
"Wait, don't!" the first girl protested, glancing around to ensure no one else was watching. "What if he wakes up? You know he doesn't like being the center of attention."
Lyka watched the scene unfold from her spot and couldn't believe how daring high school girls had become these days.
But she wasn't exactly innocent herself, so she ignored them and continued teaching.
RING RING RING
The bell rang, signaling the end of the morning class and the beginning of the much-needed lunch break.
Students hurriedly left the classroom, eager to recharge their energy for the rest of the day in the cafeteria.
Some carried lunchboxes, chatting excitedly about their meals. A few bragged about their cooking skills, sharing tips on how they made their favorite dishes.
Others chimed in, teasing their classmates for being spoiled, claiming their parents baby them by always cooking for them.
Asher, however, had a different agenda. Despite his yearning for more sleep, he had to put on a mask – the role of the school bully.
His reputation demanded it. The moment he opened his eyes, he found a line of five students waiting, including the kid he had beaten the day before.
"Good," Asher muttered with a detached nod, accepting the offerings of lunch money from the intimidated students. It was a routine that he had to do.
Once the collection was complete for his class, he stood up from his seat and strolled out , heading towards another class to collect.
His bold actions were made possible by the teachers' fear of James.
They hesitated to confront him and his lackeys, knowing he had the kind of influence that could easily disrupt the delicate balance of the school.
Rumors circulated that he came from a very wealthy family. Some even speculated that he had relatives in politics, which made his presence at the school a big deal.
Because of his mysterious identity, it allowed Asher to go through school without facing consequences for always being late or getting involved in fights.
Ironically, he found himself getting a lot of perks by working for James.
'What am I doing with my life?'
He took a deep breath, longing for a moment of peace. He hated the role he played—bully, enforcer, lackey—but he felt trapped. The reputation he built protected him in a way, but it also suffocated him.
Caught in a web of his own making, he barely registered someone approach until the person was right in front of him.
"Hey Asher," the big guy who always hangs with James approached. His name was Bobby.
Asher simply looked at him, saying nothing.
Bobby grew frustrated, but he did not make a move.
The memory of the brutal beating he received for crossing Asher still lingered in his body like a painful echo.
"James said I should pick you up. We got a job,"
"Sure," Asher reluctantly accepted the command. He didn't like James, but he needed his authority and connections.
"Follow me," Bobby gestured and walked ahead.