Advanced history 101.
A.k.a Tenth circle of Hell.
A nefarious, high-pitched voice loomed in the background, drilling about the French Revolution of 1789 in the most drawling voice possible.
She was like a living, more excruciating version of Professor Binns.
Who am I kidding?
History of magic was way more interesting than the shit she was teaching.
I looked around, my eyes spacing out as I looked outside the window.
It had been a month since I had been here.
A complete, fucking month....
My eyes travelled, settling on the black-haired woman sitting in the front row, who was staring intently at the board, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
Well, she already has bad taste. I don't have much to lose.
Her friend turned, slightly tapping on her right shoulder, and whispered something in her ear.
Shit.
I immediately turned around, pretending to be interested in the black speck on the wall. On closer observation, I realised it was a spider.
Itsy bitsy spider....
Down came the... what was it?
I could almost feel a certain stare on me from a longer distance, but I could not bring myself to check if it was her.
Please don't be her. Please don't be her.
It wasn't her.
"MR JAMES !!!", the woman's voice sounded treacherously bat-like in my ears, " I've been calling your name for the past ten minutes. Where the fuck are you staring at ?"
I got up slowly, feeling a hundred eyes collectively turning towards me.
"What were the major issues of the people of the Third Estate before the French Revolution?"
Her eyes were sharp, but I could feel a smug smirk forming in the corner of her mouth.
"They had to pay the majority of the taxes of the state while the clergy and nobility enjoyed tax privileges. Bread prices rose sharply because of poor harvests, various feudal dues increased the leverage of clergy on the peasants, and they had very little political power despite making up the majority of the population. "
She stared at me for a moment, clearly annoyed that I'd managed to recite every point she'd written down in the tiniest handwriting in her own handbook.
"Nobody likes a pompous know-it-all, Mr James ", she said, realizing that the students were now staring at her," You should be more focused on learning than just repeating stuff like a parrot."
"At least I'm a know-it-all who knows his shit ".
"Yeah ?" The teacher's tone had turned from annoyed to pissed off. "Why don't you enlighten the class on why the Third Estate was in that situation for so long, Mr James?"
"It was because of the voting by order system. Every estate got one vote. So, even though the Third Estate comprised the majority of people, they would always be outvoted by the clergy and the nobility in making any decision".
"I don't think you're right here, Mr James" Mrs Burton's eyes travelled from the side of my pale, faded-out shirt to the unironed, frayed edges of my pants.
"The Third Estate wasn't exactly made up of geniuses. Most of them were born into poverty, stayed there, and taught their children to stay there too."
Theodore's teeth clenched, but he did not say anything.
"That is the thing with poor people in general. They'd much rather parade around with their poverty as a medal than actually do anything to improve their life. Just using the taxes of the hard-earned money of normal people to sit on their asses and do coke."
"And then they breed like crazy. Three, four, even six in some cases. Kids which they cannot afford, so that they can just grow up to become drug addicts and thieves while getting a lousy degree in community college."
"Don't you agree, Mr James ?" Her smirk widened, her blotched lips curving into a satisfied smile.
I could have just stayed quiet.
"Then what's your fucking excuse?"
Her smile disappeared.
"What?"
"You heard me." I leaned back, knowing that it was useless to stop now. "You think poor people are lazy? That they sit on their asses all day, waste every opportunity they're given, and are a burden on society?"
I gave her a cold smile.
"Fine. Let's say you're right. What was your excuse, then ?"
"You were born into a rich, A-list family, weren't you? Home tutors, private institutions, a crapload of money just to get your hammered ass through college? Was that a good investment ?"
She stared at me, her mouth opened like a half- dazed toad.
"You had an expensive upbringing, Miss Burton. What did that lead to? Teaching a bunch of college dropouts and trust fund babies with so chewed-off brains that their parents couldn't even pay them off at the Ivy League schools ?"
" Wonder how long it took for your husband to figure out you were a waste of his hard-earned money ?"
The classroom had gone completely silent.
She looked at me with the most disbelieving expression in her eyes, and for a moment, I couldn't help but feel that I had gone too far.
She recovered, though I could still see patches of red on her cheeks.
"Sit down, Mr James" Her voice was controlled, and I immediately sensed the warning in her tone.
I sat down.
" You have been receiving an economic scholarship since the beginning of this semester, haven't you?".
"Yes ".
"And you have been selected for the university's advanced academic program. You are also on the list for the research placement next semester, and you have already been recommended for two academic competitions".
"Do you know what all of those things have in common?"
I said nothing.
"They require faculty approval."
"You know what I could do, Mr James ?" Her voice had turned sinisterly calm," I could scream right now and get all of the other faculty here and make them believe that you made a sexual advance on me."
I could feel myself go completely white.
"It wouldn't be that hard to prove, too", she smiled, though her tone remained considerably colder," A smudged lipstick here, a torn blouse there, and your inflated, egoistic ass will remain in a jail cell for the rest of my teaching career."
Theodore looked around.
No way was she admitting to something like that in front of 150 students.
That bitch had gone crazy.
"Oh, looking around for witnesses ?" Her voice had turned sugary calm," I'm sure, though, that the 'trust fund babies' and 'college dropouts' would have no problems following along my little plan ?"
She turned around and placed her marker on the side table.
"Obviously, I'm not going to go that far," she said, looking almost amused by the panic on my face.
"You're dismissed permanently from my class, Mr James ", she said, silently adjusting her glasses. " Your arrogant, insufferable ass is no longer my problem. "
Shit.
I shouldn't have gone that far.
She registered my almost translucently white face before turning to face the rest of the class.
"Rule of thumb, students. Don't piss off people who have a proven authority over you."
"People who can fail you or simply remove you, or, in short, can make life-altering decisions for you. It will help you well in your future endeavors. "
Fucking bitch.
I tried to convince my angry brain that it was worth it, but I could not. One month of continuous efforts, all foiled because of a stupid outburst.
"Class is over", she announced loudly over her shoulder.
Or maybe not.
The class immediately behind shuffled as the children scraped their bags, hurriedly pushing their stuff into their bags, no one wanting to stay back in class with the exceptionally angry teacher.
One by one, the students started filing out, some of them throwing curious looks in my direction, others whispering amongst themselves as they disappeared into the corridor.
I deliberately stayed, pretending to put my stuff as slowly into the bag as possible, until the last person left, closing the door behind me.
She continued to gather her stuff, not even bothering to look in my direction, as my ears noted the corridors becoming increasingly empty by the second.
After a few seconds, she finally glanced up.
There was no surprise on her face.
"If you're waiting here to beg me to change my decision, it is of no use, Mr-
Her voice hitched as the black gleam of the metal shone in her eyes.
"Rule of thumb, professor ", My voice was silkily soft, and I pointed my gun in her direction.
" Don't piss off the quiet student."
Bang.
...........
I finally packed up my duffel bag with all my stuff, the same one I had bought a month ago to look like an average college student.
Hopefully for the last time.
My eyes narrowed at the sight of my target before I went on to her stupid assignments, which were now sprayed with a red shade.
As I walked outside into the silence of the empty corridor, my smile perked up - at the thought of my classmates realising that the actual "Mr James" had cancelled his scholarship to this college a month ago after getting a large tip from an anonymous source.
Oh, and for the record, I had no interest in that girl. I had just been watching her for a month because she had been sleeping with Mrs Burton.