There's a knock on my door and enters wannabe invisible Casper. "Hello Theodore," I smile up at him. "Finally found your way to my classroom, did you?"

He doesn't miss the sarcasm at all and visibly shifts from one leg to another. "Hey, Miss Romero. You wanted to see me?" He doesn't have his school blazer on, his tie is undone but despite that, his shirt is still tucked in. I debate weather or not to tell him off but I'd be fun seeing another teacher do it.

I still have to chew into him for avoiding me all week. "Yes young man, I did."

He looks blankly at me. "About what?" I can see past his feigned innocence immediately. Theodore Terio was no saint nor angel.

"Where is your parents evening appointment with me? It's tomorrow evening." He doesn't reply and I wait for the lame excuse to roll off his tongue.

He strokes his arm, looking at everything in the room but me. I stand from my seat, feeling like I'm scolding a little child. "There's a slight problem, Miss..." he begins. "My parents are away on a business trip and they can't attend," he takes a quick glance at me, biting his lip in nervousness.

I frown, "Yet you managed to book appointments with all your other teachers?"

He sighs sheepishly, finally giving in. "If I'm being honest, I wasn't going to turn up."

"Theodore," I breath, walking around my desk and sitting at the end. "I appreciate the honesty, but you cannot book appointments and not turn up Theo. Firstly because another student could want that time slot and secondly, it's a waste of time and very disrespectful to the teachers who need to talk to your parents and how we can both help you improve."

"Besides," I whisper to him. "Do you really want the head of year to speak to you after finding out you bunked off?" His eyes widened in fear, immediately shaking his head.

Sarah Jaymes was a forced to be reckoned with her small sature and icy blue glares. Not to mention, she had the voice of a blaring horn that sent the students running for the hills. It was good, they should fear her. How else were these little twats going to behave?

His blue eyes meet my gaze. He looks defeated and deep in thought for moment. "You could always email my parents your comments about my academic progress?" he suggests, his voice trailing.

I nodded my head, understanding. "It's not the same Theo. Over email, I can only give them feedback and parent's evening are intended to inform your parents about your academic progress. Also, this is your last ever parents evening before you hit your exams in May,"

He lets out a disappointed sigh, "I understand, Miss."

"If you don't mind me asking, who are you staying with then?" I try to think of a solution. Although, teachers are not allowed to have favourites because everyone is equal – Theodore was my absolute favourite.

It takes him a second to form a sentence, "My grandad Miss..."

I smile softly at him, "Would he be available to come? It doesn't have to be your parents."

He doesn't reply but it's not hard to miss the wave of sadness that passes over his face.

I place my hand on his shoulders, squeezing gently. "Theo, you're making phenomenal progress in English and I believe it is something to be praised. Also, I'd like to discuss the wonderful opportunity that I think you would be keen on doing."

"What is it?"

"BNS's student journalists competition. There's an entry and I think you should pursue it," he looks bewildered for a second and I nod firmly letting him know he shouldn't doubt himself or his craft. The boy was made to grace his face on public television.

"Isn't journalism something you want to pursue?"

"It would be a dream of mine." He breaths through his nose, thinking. Then, he finally says, "What is the latest time I can get then?"

I reach for my planner, checking an available slot, "7 pm. My last student."

His mouth falls open, "That's so late!" he groans, staring astounded at me. "He's gonna kill me," he mutters to himself.

I shake my head at him, placing my right arm on my hip. "Maybe if you came to me beforehand, I could have given you an earlier time." I reason, the sarcasm falling off my lips. I shrug at him, unimpressed that he should know this by now. "It's first-come, first-serve. Sorry, Theodore."

I grab my pen and quickly scribble his name down.

"I'll see you tomorrow evening."I nod and he turns around ready to leave my room. I stalk back to my desk and sit on my chair, typing out the last sentence on the slideshow.

"Uh, Miss?" Theodore stands awkwardly between two tables. "Do you mind if I make a quick phone call? Is that okay with you?"

"Go ahead,"

He pulls out his iPhone from his pocket, typing on the screen furiously before bringing it up to his ear. I take a quick glance at the slideshow and press print.

Theodore furiously sighs, muttering about someone being an stupid idiot before bringing the phone to his ear again.

"Hey, it's me, Theo. Yes, I know I'm banned from calling this number but this is very important! Please connect me to him. No. He's not answering my calls from his phone. Please, Aisha! This is a life and death situation!"

I smirk at his desperation, finding it slightly humorous before getting up from my chair and leaving my room to go print.

* * *

The bell rings, silencing my interpretation of the fifth stave from a Christmas Carol. I groan as the classroom begins to stand and flea from their tables, eager to get their lunch before the student line stretched outside into the playground. "See you later, Miss." several students say, running past me. I shake my head. Something never change. I begin to rub off the marker on the whiteboard as I feel a presence hover behind me.

"Hey Miss Romero," Theodore beams at me. I smile in return, turning on my heels to face him. "Don't worry about the class. I think your jokes are funny," he mentions my failed attempt of a joke that I made during the beginning of the class.

None of the students laughed with me, but at me.

I thank Theodore and tell him he doesn't need to lie to me to make me feel better. It was the most cringest moment of my teaching career. I'm certain that I was going to go bright red and face palm myself at two AM for many years to come.

"Hey, Bella. Ready to go?" Jeremiah leans in the doorframe of the classroom, his hand buried in his black trousers. His eyes trail to my left, seeing Theodore standing next to me. "Oh sorry, Theodore, Didn't know you were talking to Miss Romero,"

Theodore's face turns blank for a second and I can't read him anymore. "No, Mr Spencer. I was just leaving," he states, his lips curving with a small smile. "Have a nice lunch Miss Romero." he walks out, nodding at Jeremiah.

Once Theodore is out of sight, he inquires again. "Ready?"

I reach for my dark blue trench coat that hangs on the back of my chair and I tell him yes. We both walk in silence as we exist off school premises before the conversation shifts to him asking me how my lessons went and which student gets on my nerves the most. And of course, our favourite - discussing which student has a crush on who and pairing them together next to each other for the whole term.

We enter into the high street and he leads me into a small cafe called Olive's. It has a rustic vibe to it, jazz pours through the speakers and the aroma of grounded coffee beans envelopes me instantly. Jeremiah pulls out a chair for me before tucking me in and asks me what I'd like to order. I say an expresso would be good and he makes a face, telling me black coffee is godly. Nevertheless, he orders for me and quickly rushes to sit with me.

He places his cup down, "I just want to thank you for coming with me," his brown eyes sparkle underneath the light.

I feel heated and pink creeps up to my cheeks, "No, thank you for inviting me. This cafe has one of the best espressos ever."

He gives me a tight smile, gulping and shifting uncomfortably. "Hey listen..." his voice grows hoarse and I frown at the shape the conversation has taken form. Behind me, the door chimes open as a man with a deep raspy says excuse me to a person, who was probably blocking their way. "I know both of us are up for that promotion when Vanessa leaves in two weeks," he sighs deeply, not meeting my eyes anymore.

I cross my arms over my chest, staring at him dead in the eye. Oh, so this is why he brought me out? So he could sweet talk me and undermine of what rightfully belongs to me? Absolutely pathetic.

I give him a curt nod, "Yes, I'm aware." I stress. After Vanessa Blaine's departure, Jeremiah and I were competing for the promotion. The promotion meant becoming head of the English department and both us had the same years of experience but it boiled down to the variable of who exactly would be chosen.

"You're one of my closet friends Bella. And you mean a lot to me." His statement catches me off-guard and I blink at him surprised.

His eyes are sincere. "I do?" Maybe I was wrong to judge him. His coffee coloured eyes crease at the edges of his stunning mocha-brown skin, regarding me with a small smile and he doesn't seem to have any malicious intent

"Yes, you do." He lets his lips crack with a genuine smile. "And I don't want this to get in the way of our friendship. Also, just to let you know. You totally deserve it."

My heart beats erratically and I almost sweat under his gaze. God, he was so wholesome and polite. How could I ever grow hate him?

"That's sweet of you."

I stumble of my tongue, searching for the right words but I numb out for a second as Jeremiah grins, sipping on his horrible choice of coffee. Behind me, a man hurriedly walks by, barking furiously in his phone and the door chimes shut.

"I really don't know what to say, Jere..."

His expression is thoughtful as if he's building up the courage to jab a pin in my system.

He opens his mouth to speak and say something but the furious buzzing of my phone silences him in his tracks. I take out my phone from my pocket, looking down at the name and shake my head at Quinn's antics. "Sorry," I murmur at Jeremiah for abruptly stopping him from what he needed to say.

"It's alright, you can take it." I beam sheepishly at him, sending a few texts in return to Quinn, telling her the extract time I would arrive in Soho and stating how I can't wait to see her.

"Everything alright?"

I hum, taking a sip from my espresso. The froth with the added mixture of the liquid creates the perfect balance. "My best friend recently moved and she's invited me over for dinner. She was just pestering me about when I was going to arrive,"

He laughs, "Seem's like fun."

"Wait until my hair is suddenly blonde tomorrow." I wave it any ideologies of fun. Nights with Quinn involved too much red wine and lots of gossip about how her and her flame got off to one another. The mornings were always a disaster as we both stumbled off for work.

He gazes at me for a second longer than deemed polite. I don't mind it. There's something divine about the way he looks at me – as if I'm the most prettiest nebula in his galaxy. He passes me a wink, "Well, apparently blondes have more fun."

"And brunette's don't?" I narrow my eyes at him, peeking at him as I take another sip. Involuntarily, my hand brushes through my hair and I preen the softness against my palms.

His cheeks blaze red and he looks mildly uncomfortable, "No, no. I didn't mean that. I was just making a statement. I like your hair colour." He frowns, not wanting to offend me anyway.

I laugh at his sweetness telling Jeremiah I was teasing him. "Yes, I think it's pretty." He affirms.

The statement doesn't mean much but speaks volumes and halts me in my tracks. He switches the topic fast even before I have time to react. "So where did your friend move to?"

I blink coming back my senses and remind myself not to point out the milky front that decorates his lush lips. "She got herself a cute little flat in SoHo." He nods, listening and licks it off himself and I watch tentatively.

I wonder what it would be like to have his lips on me? Or even for him to kiss me? "SoHo? Wow!" He whistles, pulling me back.

Quinn works her ass off and not only that, but she happened to be employed for a major french fiancer who simply adored her and her work ethic. She was simply reaping the benefit, "Yep, she's living her best life." I laugh to myself.

"So you're driving all the way to SoHo tonight?" He swirls his empty half full cup around, playing as it leaves behind me rhythmic clanging.

"Yep, and driving back. I need my energy for parent's evening tomorrow." Tomorrow was going to be hectic. Meeting multiple parents and the kids behaving like saints in fronts of their mothers and the worst of all: me having to tell of some of my most adored kids because I expect better from them and know they're capable of so much more than their currents grades.

Tough love is the only way.

"Yeah, that's going to kill us all."

Jeremiah glances down at his watch, "Speaking of getting killed we should start heading back... Vanessa is still technically the head of the department and she will murder us for coming late," Simultaneously, we stand and make a run for the door.

————

Meh, not feeling this chapter...