A New List of Rules [closed]

[Caden Cameron]

Throwing all of her papers into the manila folder, and then that into her shoulder bag, Caden scrambled to get all of her things together. She knew she should have done it the night before, but then she was too busy worrying about not doing well today..oh and don't forget to mention she was far too entranced in her Mythbusters marathon to do any serious organization. Science was way too cool to overpower the need to prepare ahead so she wouldn't be stuck where she was now, nearly running late to her first class.

From what she knew, she would be teaching and flying solo for this class. There was another language teacher in the school, but they wanted to see how well Caden would do by herself at first. Plus, it wasn't like the other teacher had her hands full with students' test papers and lecture notes already to have to deal with a student teacher. But Caden knew she could do it by herself, she'd been trained in school that way anyways, hadn't she? Well, she'd be fine if she could only get there on time.

Grabbing her layered winter coat, sunglasses to act as goggles to block out the freezing cold wind that seemed to stay in this town without any intentions of leaving, and board, she headed out of the small apartment, ran down the stairs, and was out of the door within five minutes, skateboarding towards the school as fast as she could, making sure to avoid ice patches or billowy hills of snow that was now grey with dirt and sludge.

Whilst keeping her eyes on the road to make sure no jerk felt like running her over, as it was clearly obvious that the sidewalk was not a good place to skateboard right now, as many people were far too lazy or stubborn to shovel their sidewalks and do their part, Caden quickly looked at her watch. It read, "9:40 am." Right, twenty minutes until class started..at this pace, she could get there in about seven, and with that, she'd still have plenty of time to make it to the designated hall and from there, finding the class should be a piece of cake.

----


She had made it to campus, finally, although with stop lights and signals, it took an extra three minutes to her estimate time of arrival. Now it was 9:50, and she still had a whopping ten minutes to book it to her class. She stopped short, pulled out the crumpled paper in her back pocket with the room number scribbled on it in blue pen. Classroom number 322. Alright, that must mean it was in this first big building, presumably on the third floor, and from there, she'd be able to weasel her way around students easily to find her way through the chronologically numbered rooms.

She skipped up the stairs two at a time, pulled the heavy entrance doors to reveal the beautiful school. From the architecture to the high ceilings and wood columns and marble flooring, this place could have easily been a wealthy man's mansion at one point in time before it was an institute for meta-humans. This place wasn't new to her, after all, she had graduated from here, and had spent a good four years here, but it had been a while since reentering, and all of those memories were coming back again. If she wasn't careful, she could get swept away in them and lose all track of time. Not now, you can daydream later.

Focusing her attention back on her destination, she fled up the stairs right in front of her, again, skipping more than one at a time, shaving off as much time as possible. Up one more flight and she was on the third floor. She knew this place, and remembered which way to turn to find her classroom, the room that was once a different language teacher's room (one she never took because she didn't find the need to at that point in time, all things considered) that had gone away, this room was now hers, all hers.

She took a few more paces forward and took a sharp right, stopping in front of her lovely abode, room 322. She turned the doorknob slowly, and headed into the classroom. The walls were blank, leaving much room for any creative vibes she'd ever be feeling would be suitable to fill the space with. There were two large windows on the opposite side of the classroom, one near the desk in the back left, and one near the chalkboard in the front. There were desks set up facing the chalkboard, naturally, and already, there were about five students in the classroom. It now occurred to her that while she was busy staring around at the room, they had manage to fix their gaze upon her. Blushing slightly, she shot them a peace sign and a nod, then headed over to the desk, skateboard in head.

They might be shocked that their teacher was a skater, unlike all the older folks that still taught here, even when she was here as a student. Hopefully she'd bring a nice, fresh breath to the Hammel Institute environment. Well, at least that was her aim. She set her bag upon the desk available to her, and rested her board against the wall near the window. She felt for the manila folder, pulled it out, and opened it. There, in their rather messy order, were the syllabi for the students. Granted, they probably weren't used to these things, or threw them out, but as she was in college, these were the 'path to success' for students to follow and figure out when their exams were and such. She'd go over that in class though, once everyone came. So for now, she'd wait.

Plopping down in the frumpy and squeaky chair, she leaned back and waited for the clock to strike ten o'clock, when she could start. She crossed her leg casually, mentally examining what she was wearing. The whole 'professional' thing still didn't totally work for her. After all, how many teachers skateboarded to work everyday, even in this weather? She really couldn't remember any of them. Maybe one day she'd wear a dress, just for fun, but honestly, she could still see herself looking far too much like the students than like a professor. That was okay though, it was her look, and hopefully it would keep the students at ease, despite the change of teacher and curriculum and such.

Finally, the big hand had made it to the '12' and the little hand made it to the '10', while a few more students filed on in and made their way to their seats. Okay, breathe in and out, in...and out.. Screw this, she was hardly nervous at all, more like ready to get the show on the road. Kids of varied ages were talking amongst themselves, but she wouldn't be that kind of teacher they all ignored and trampled on. None of that here.

Her chair made a loud squeak as she made it to her feet, gathered up their syllabi, and made her way to the front of the room, counting out and dispersing how many papers to send back to each row. "Alrighty everyone, welcome to your glorious new language course! Before you crumple this paper and throw it away, hold tight and let me explain myself." She waited until everyone in each row had one, and then began on her monologue.

"You may or may not recognize me, depending on how long you've been at Hammel. I'll give you a brief 30-second autobiography. I went to Hammel, just like you guys, graduated in four years, and I've been in college for three. I'm in the last bit of my junior year, on an internship at Hammel to see all of your lovely faces. I plan on teaching you to the best of my abilities (no pun intended) what is natural to me. So here we are, in a foreign languages course." She put her hands up in a sarcastic 'ta-da' fashion, and then continued. "Now these lovely papers, I'm sure you can all read, or at least I'd hope you can a this point in your lives. In college, us students live off of these for our classes. All of your tests are listed on there, and your two reports. Yes, just because I'm a student teacher doesn't mean I won't be giving you assignments. Also, this is the only time I'll be telling you when you have assignments, I want you to learn how to keep one sheet of paper and study appropriately in the time you have available."

Maybe she sounded like a mean professor, but she'd rather go for stern. A lot of beginning teachers either went one of two ways: wishy-washy and cuddly (where they're usually blown off or give students who don't deserve it way too many chances) or they're stern and won't accept 'my dog ate it' as an exception. She would be the latter, only because this was an important class. But that being said, she didn't want to make it all boring with rules and such, she wanted them to feel comfortable, at ease, remember?

Looking at some of the grimaces and the rather blank faces in her current audience, she decided to mix it up. She clapped loudly once, and announced, "Alright! Well now that the boring stuff is over and done with, assuming we're all adults here and will read our syllabus, time to move on to more interesting matters. My name is Caden Cameron, and you can call me Caden, Cade, Pixie, just please not Ms. Cameron. You'd be aging me far too soon. And if I catch you calling me 'Mrs.' anything, I'll beat you over the head with a cast iron skillet. Well..not really, that's illegal, but I'll come up with something. Okay, so has anyone noticed that I haven't one important thing about this language class yet, that's essential to such a language class?" She looked out towards the faces, some of them changed some of them still the same, but realized that maybe they thought it was rhetorical, and she'd give it away. "This isn't rhetorical. Come on guys, class participation. Wrong answers still count for participation points, so shoot away." Hopefully someone would utter a peep or two. After all, she didn't want this to be a boring class, she wanted people to talk freely about the subjects at hand, and enjoy themselves. Even if they were a bit rusty for this first class, there was still a chance that they might loosen up by the end of the week.

[Eric Bower]

Eric was American. His family had been American for several generations. There wasn't a single ounce of foreign culture in his family. He was American. He didn't know any other language other than American English...and that weird internet language where you spelled accents and stuff, he could understand and speak it fluently. But that didn't count as far as high school required foreign language classes. So he found himself in room 322, sitting happily as he surveyed the room, waiting for the teacher to arrive.

Some students filed it, some he barely recognized, some he'd never seen before. He smiled and tipped his head at each one, because he was friendly like that. Then, after a moment or two, this really pretty girl, probably a senior, walked in with a skateboard and stuff. She looked intimidating and in charge, but that didn't stop the fifteen year old from smiling and nodding at her like he had each student previously.

Only this girl didn't take a seat with them like the rest of them, she went up to the teacher's desk and started the introductory speech. Eric coughed into his hand to hide his surprise or any remark he just might say, as he hadn't seen that coming. She held up pieces of paper that Eric supposed were the syllabus. He was a freshmen, but he'd heard of what it was like in college, and this girl seemed to be like a demon, forcing all that responsibility for keeping up with that sheet of paper for the whole semester. He didn't like the looks of it, but he didn't say anything, this Caden was really intimidating.

She asked a question, but he didn't exactly understand it, but wanting to make a good impression he raised his hand with a half-sure-of-himself smile. He waited until she recognized he had raised his hand. "Uhm, you haven't told us what language we'll be studying?" He asked, his uncertainty leaked into his voice. Maybe he missed the memo but he really didn't know what language this class was over, if it was over a single language or what. He then remembered his hand was still over his head and folded it on his desk in front of him. Hopefully his answer (worded like a question) wasn't too far off the mark.

[Caden Cameron]

Searching around the classroom for any form of response..a mutter, a grimace, a hand, a shout-out, anything, Caden wasn't sure if this class was apt to functioning normally without that odd expression of utter boredom or hell on their faces. Hey, this class was not that bad. They should get used to the whole professional world, after all, this wasn't specifically a freshman, sophomore, junior or senior class, this was a mixed course, which meant that she would expect the best out of all of them. They may not all be gifted in foreign tongues, but they could at least give the effort that they deserved to show not only to her, but to themselves as well.

Still, she really hadn't planned on it going down like this. For some reason, Caden imagined the students to be happy and excited for learning a foreign language, especially with the twist she was about to give them. Her aim was to please the students if they could please her by answering these super simple questions. Of course, they didn't know that yet, but karma was karma, and right now, they were in control of what she would decide in the very near future. If no one was going to volunteer for answering this question, then she'd just have to go the hard way, which was honestly on the bottom of her list.

But lucky for the class, there was one young bachelor that raised his hand, although shaky and uncertain as it was, into the air, calling out his answer. Relieved that someone had finally answered, she praised him, "Ah! So someone was paying attention. What's your name, by the way?" She half waited for the boy to answer, before continuing, "Yes, that's exactly right. You're all sitting here in a language class, staring up at me with mixed expressions on your face, but what are you doing here if you don't know what language you're learning? What would be the point of coming to a class when there was no chosen langauge? Well that's where you get to make some decisions. I've yet to tell you all, but I have Language Adaptation, which basically means I can speak any language where the environment requires it. I went to school to learn the linguistics of many of them so that I could be here, right now, prepared to teach you what you want to learn. See, I'm not that mean am I? Now here's how this is going to work," She walked up to the chalkboard and grabbed a small white piece. "I'm going to let all of you give me ideas, and then we'll vote on them. Sound good? Now, here's your time to shine, everyone. What language are you dying to learn? Any answer is acceptable, don't be shy."

[Raelene Priestly]

Raelene had gotten to the class early before many of the other students had arrived. She hated being one of the students that walked in with the bell or worse, one that walked in late. She was surprised the teacher wasn't even there yet but didn't make comment as she took a seat in the second row.

She wasn't a huge fan of foreign language as a whole. Sure she could speak a small portion of a few different languages, but she never wanted to take a full class on the subject, but that didn't matter to the school so here she sat.

Raelene was tapping her pencil against her opened notebook as the young teacher walked in. She didn't look much older than the senior, but as she sat down at the teacher's desk, she figured she had to be a student or recent graduate. Once she started talking, she sat up straight and took down notes and slid the syllabus into her binder.

She asked her question and Rae looked over at the freshman while he answered her question. She had figured they would just be taught one language and that would be that. There really was no one language she wanted to desperately learn, but she wouldn't be one of those students that just sits there and waits for someone else to answer all of the questions. Her mother was of Italian descent and German was the only answer her Dad ever gave. With those two options, Italian had always seemed the better of the two, so she raised her manicured hand and answered, "Italian, I guess."

[Ryne Caliban]

Narrowed gray eyes bore into the board in front of him. Evie couldn't believe what utter bullshit this was. There was absolutely no reason he should have to take a language class. He was already bilingual, and now they wanted him to learn a third language? They said it'd help his brain develop further by learning a new language. They said that French didn't count because he learned it from a young age, therefore it was more of a natural speech pattern not a learned one. It didn't matter what they said, it was stupid. That wasn't the only thing he was pissed about. He was going to be placed in a mixed class, meaning he'd have to put up with freshman-level kids. That was unfair. In a normal school, Evie would be considered a college level student. To share a class with children that were just as, if not more obnoxious than himself was pure hell.

Minutes passed, and students filed in. Evie couldn't help but feel more and more resentful of this class, and it hadn't even started yet. There was a boy near himself, that wore a constant smile, and to be honest, it annoyed the blond. What the hell is he so happy about? More minutes passed, and more students trickled in. It wasn't until a girl, who seemed to be around his own age, if not a little older, walked in that Evie felt relieved that he wasn't the only one who was going to suffer in this class. It was only a matter of seconds before that relief was shattered by the fact that this girl was actually their teacher. At first, he thought it was a joke. His hopes were shattered when he realized he was wrong. She sat down in the teachers chair, and stared, waiting for the clock to signal the beginning of class. Evie felt defeated as he pressed his forehead against his own desk. "Fuck my life." He swore silently to himself.

A loud squeak resonated throughout the room as the woman lifted herself from her chair. Evie dully at attention, wanting to be anywhere else but here. He listened to her little spiel about her life, only tuning out most of it as an annoying buzzing noise. She then proceeded to explain the importance of the syllabus, which the gray-eyed boy had heard too many times before. A small silence filled the room, but it didn't last too long, as the teacher clapped loudly causing Evie to jump a little. Irritation started to creep into his mind. She had switched pace from business mode to friendly-teacher mode. Which to no surprise irritated Evie even further. He'd seen this tactic before, the I'm-not-just-your-teacher-but-I'm-also your-friend-type of style of teaching. She even went to far as to have her students call her by her first name. Evie was not impressed.

Even more moments passed, but all he could hear was "Blah blah blah." Until a new voice protruded through the air, wanting to know what language they would be learning. Somehow, he knew the answer, perhaps it was just predictable, or maybe it was a false sense of knowing. They would get to choose their own language. Evie's eyes followed Caden, the teacher, as she walked up to the board, white chalk in hand. Her question was a simple one. What language were we dying to learn. Evie knew the answer to this one.

"Nul. Je parle anglais et français." He said in a perfect accent. "Il est il me suffit" His tone conveyed he didn't want to be here, nor did he feel like he needed to be.

[Caden Cameron]

Although very stubborn and relcutant of class they were, Caden finally got some answers from a hand full of students. Scrbbling the options on the board, she responded, "Okay, we've got an 'Italian, I guess' and someone who believes that he has enough language under his belt to not have to participate. To you, Est-ce pas, monsieur? Si vous préférez, vous pouvez laisser ici et maintenant, laissez-moi savoir si vous comptez sur le décrochage de la classe pour que je puisse marquer le bas. Il permettra d'économiser à la fois de nous beaucoup de temps et d'efforts." She gave him a sideways smile, and hoped he understood she meant every word, as he was fluent in French and all.
She underlined the word 'Italian' on the board, and looked over to the rest of class that had yet to answer.

Was anyone going to participate? This was ridiculous how easy her question was and amazing how little people felt like contributing. If you were like this in college, they teachers didn't care as much for you, they would just put a big fat '0' down for the day, and that would be it. Whether you passed or failed was up to you ultimately in the end, and no harm no foul to your professors, they were still getting paid. But without this class, these kids wouldn't be able to graduate Hammel, and wouldn't really get to college. Maybe she could play the concerned-for-the-student's-welfare card, but could already tell some people were sick of her regime. She would just opt for another option then.

"Alright, everyone. I don't exactly get your game, but you should know this class is required. I wanted to teach here because I remembering enjoying it, making the most of it, even for the classes I wasn't so fond of, like Chemistry. I know there are some of you sitting out there that don't want to be here, including the wonderful gentlemen who felt like telling me so earlier, but you kind of have to. Or, you could drop it now, and just have it hanging around your neck like a noose when you want to graduate and your one class short. And you all want to spend a whole year at Hammel just to make up for the language classes don't you?" She was getting sarcastic at this point, and could get a bit peeved at them all, well most of them, that is, right now, but she knew she'd have to keep her cool. "I was attempting to make this interesting and different for you guys, but it looks like you'd rather have me assign a language for you. I could be mundane and offer the ever so popular Spanish, available in nearly every high school across the United States, or I could just be cruel and offer Korean, Cambodian, or perhaps, Chinese. We have one offer of Italian. Now does anyone have any other suggestions or shall I go forth with that?" She put her hand on her hip and looked around, which reminded her. "Oh, and if the people that spoke today please let me know of your names, I'll give you extra credit for being so kind to volunteer and speak up. As for everyone else, the time is a-ticking. I'm not usually a bitch, but I do love participation and for students to give a damn about what could potentially be useful for their futures."

[Catherine Novella]

Cat had come in and sat down in the middle row of the classroom. For once she was on time. She survey her surroundings, a boy was sitting in the far top desk of the room. He was smiling and nodding to everyone that came into the class room. Cat just looked down and waited for the teacher. She was waiting when another student, at least she assumed it was a student, came in late. The girl walked in with a skateboard and walked up to the desk. Really this was the teacher? Cat was shocked she looked awfully young. When she started to talk Cat paid close attention. She didn’t want to miss anything. Cat knew that it was important to pay attention. Cat was good at English, but she wasn’t sure about how she would be at other languages. Maybe if she were to learn more of the other languages around the world, she might be able to further enhance her ability. She wasn’t sure how this would work, but she might like to learn Latin. If anything it might help her with her English as most of the English language was derived from it.

.
Cat had sat down when she entered and hadn’t really noticed the other students except for the boy who had smiled at her when she had come in. She looked around and noticed a blond boy with a scowl on his face and a girl who was taking notes. Cat watched them as they spoke up when the teacher asked the question who wants to learn what. Silently cat raised her hand. “ Is Latin available?” The teacher must not have heard her. When she went of on a rant. “Excuse me Miss Cameron… Is Latin available?”

[Caden Cameron]

Really, honestly, she didn't want to come off as the bitch. Really, really, really didn't. But it just seemed like these teens didn't want to take direction from someone only a few years older than them that didn't dress in little pencil skirts and tweed jackets. And believe when she said it, there would be no way in hell that you could get her into one. It would have to be faux leather at anything (she didn't like to wear animal furs or skins, it was against her ethics.) And they'd be black, black black. Or possibly some neon in there as well. But nothing tan and tweed, please kill her. But really, why wouldn't the kids like her? She didn't call them 'kids' to their faces, and hadn't even muttered a single word about that being an issue whatsoever yet, so why wouldn't they just work together? There were a few born leaders of the pack here, she could see that already, but there were going to definitely be some snobs. Considering she was asking them to hold onto one piece of paper throughout the semester and giving them the chance to choose their own languages, Caden really didn't see what all the anger and animosity towards her was for, nor did she feel it was deserved. Hopefully, they would be able to respect her more often as the year passed. She wasn't going to give up on this group of kids too easily.

Ah another volunteer! Maybe her tactics were working after all. She pointed towards the girl with her hand up, and the young student requested another language, Latin. That struck a chord with Caden. As it was most likely known, not many people spoke Latin anymore, and so Caden really hadn't the opportunity to use it in conversation, as most people don't speak Latin for fun. BUT, it was a suggestion, and she shouldn't deny it. Instead, she'd have the class vote on what languages they wanted. "Excellent recommendation, miss. What's your name, by the way?" She wrote it on the board right under Italian, and then put dash marks next to each category. Turning to the class and smiling, now much more relieved that some people were willing to speak up and participate -although some not altogether willingly- "Okay, does anyone have any other suggestions? Spanish? Portuguese? French, Japanese, Mandarin, Korean, Urdu, Swahili, Cambodian, Russian, Dutch, Belgian, anything? If this is all you guys want, that's fine. If so, let me know by giving me a thumbs up," she motioned the gesture and continued, "and we'll vote on what to have like head's up seven up. Or are you guys too young to know what that game is...?" She was trying, really trying to get them to sort of deal with her or maybe even like her. Maybe, hopefully, something would work.

[Eric Bower]

He'd totally zoned out. He'd had a nagging feeling he'd seen his teacher before (which was silly because he hadn't recognized her when she first came in) but as the minutes ticked by (he'd zoned out about the time she had asked what his name was, which he'd told her a simple "Eric.") After that, he didn't hear a word the rest of the class said towards the teacher and didn't miss her growing annoyance for their lack of participation. He'd come crashing back to earth when he realized Caden looked like...just like that chick from Twilight.

He didn't say anything, at first, because he was vain (nowadays) and didn't want to admit he had seen the Twilight atrocity (Zac said it was a horrible movie and Eric was conditioned now to think so too). But she did! She did look just like her! Only cooler, and had a skateboard. He didn't say anything, but he didn't stop himself from sucking in a huge breath of realization and flailing his hands a little in his excitement for thinking of it.

This, of course, brought attention to him, which he realized. He caught the ass-end of her speech. "Mandarin," he echoed after the teacher, "that's Chinese isn't it? Oooh but what about Spanish, por favor?" That was the extent of his Spanish, except for 'si' and 'gracias'. But that really didn't count. He wasn't exactly trying to be a jackass, or whatever, but he was hyper/excited that he'd made the teacher/twilight distinction because now he was picturing a vampire and a werewolf stalking the classroom and fighting each other and it was funny. (Yes, he did watch New Moon and Eclipse as well, but ssssh.)

"I think learning Spanish would be super cool."

[Ryne Caliban]

If Evie could drop the class, he would. If he didn't have to take the class, he wouldn't be here in the first place. A hint of anger flared in the back of the young blond's mind. Her lopsided smile didn't scare him one bit."Oui, c'est assez." His voice became much strained as if he were trying not to yell at her. "Et je voudrais bien partir, but that is not an option." He stated switching back to his first language. "For the most part I am required to take this class. You asked me what language I was dying to learn, and I answered. None." Evie's narrowed eyes remained focused. "As far as I'm concerned. There is nothing wrong with the answer that I just gave you, Ms. Cameron." That last part was completely unnecessary, but Evie was seething a bit on the inside. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, only letting out a smirk in his mind.

Other people were giving her answers simply. Italian...boring. Spanish...boring. Latin...that language is dead anyway. Evie was not going to conform however. He was truthful when he said that there wasn't another language he wanted to learn. If it came down to it, he was going to learn whatever language she forced on him. Normally, he didn't like to judge people, but it was a habit. The people in the class didn't seem to be the type that Evie would be friends with. Then again, Evie wasn't the type to have friends. The people that he noticed so far were a high-maintenance princess, as judged by her perfectly manicured hand, a bookworm, and an awkward freshman. Awesome. He thought sarcastically.

From what he had been required to sit through so far, he really didn't like this Caden girl. She may have been older than Evie, but to be honest, she didn't seem to be that much older. In fact, he was getting very tired of this preaching about how this is not like college. Evie was in college. And from what he's noticed, college wasn't that much different than high school. He was taking the language course here, because it was offered to him. Still being also a student at Hammel. If she wanted Evie to listen to her, she was going to have to stop treating him like a twelve year old, or like a kid in general. Even if the way he was acting was indeed childish.

[Caden Cameron]

Caden tried her best to smile sweetly as she received quite a bit of sass from the same blonde-haird boy that had tried his best to give her a hard time by answering her simple questions with attitude. He may not want to be here, but he was going to have to deal with. From the looks of him, she could guess he wasn't older than eighteen, but an upperclassman among the mixed ages of other students in the class. By the rate he was rolling his eyes, she could assume none other, figuring he must assume that he was better than everyone else, just because he already knew another language. He didn't want to be there, and he voiced his opinion quite well, but he told her he had no choice. This was where she would intervene. "You know, you seem to figure you have a steady head on your shoulders. I'm guessing you're an upper class-man, and you're dying to get out of here. The one thing that's holding you back is my lovely class. If you do happen to have a problem with how I teach, or with me in general, given the fact that I am not that much older than you are, there is another language teacher, and you can take it up with a counselor with your issues. From there, you can be stuck in another language class with mixed level students, but a teacher about twice my age. Maybe you'll be more lenient to listen to her. And I'm sure your counselors would love to know why you want to change, so feel free to tell them, although know that I too, will have to report to them my side of the story, so watch closely what you say." She smirked for a split second, and then looked at the rest of the class, clearly ready to rid herself of that bitter conversation and talk to everyone else in a much more pleasant tone.

"Alrighty, Latin and Italian it is...speak or forever hold your peace." She waited a few seconds until she could literally hear the wind whipping against the windows, and responded after about thirty seconds, "Okay then, that's settled! Now I'm willing to teach both if you'd like, to make it easier on you guys to choose a subject. If you could just diverge to two sides of the classroom, this side" she gestured to the left of the room, "for Italian, and this side," now gesturing towards the right, "for Latin. I'm going to need at least five kids on both sides to teach a well-rounded class. The sooner you do it, the sooner you get out!" She smiled and gave a thumbs up to the teens, and waited for them to move around in their designated places. If she was lucky, she wouldn't have to teach Latin, but it would definitely give her a challenge, she could tell you that right now. Italian, that was a beautiful one, and very similar to Spanish. She would do just fine in that. Now, now, decision time.

[Catherine Novella]

Cat looked to the teacher and the other students. She wasn’t sure if they were even paying attention. Sighing cat replied with a “Catherine Novella” in the smallest of voices. For some reason the teacher seemed mad when Cat suggested Latin. Discouraged Cat sat back in her chair, trying to hide. She wasn’t the only one who had replied. Someone, the other girl, had said Italian, and the smiley boy had said Spanish. The boy who had an attitude of “I don’t want to be here and I shouldn’t be here” was conversing in French with the teacher. Cat shook her head. She was just accompanying with Ms. Cameron’s wishes. It was more then the other students were doing. She looked at the paper Ms. Cameron had passed out. The course itself had not seemed unreasonable. She looked it over again and put it in her folder. Hearing the teacher argue in French with the boy Cat sighed. She was here to learn. Not to argue.

Cat nodded when the teacher was talking to them and moved to the other side of the class, she figured that no one would want to learn Latin, and she should just make it easier for the teacher. Sitting herself down in the middle row on the side for Italian, Cat readied herself again for what was to come. She took out her notebook and pen and smiled at the lady. Nodding she started to write a short story, hiding it partially from Ms. Cameron. She was too absorbed in writing to realize that the others were moving around her. When she looked up again Cat realized everyone was situated and ready to learn. Putting her stuff away she waited for the teacher to start.

[Caden Cameron]

Well, that didn't take too long. The kids begrudgingly got up from their seats -although some on the out outer sides just stayed where they were, whether they knew what was going on or not, Caden really didn't know- and moved to one side or another. What interested Caden was that the girl that had chosen Latin had moved over to the side for Italian. Why had she done that? Perhaps...if Caden were to look over to the designated Latin side, there were only one or two students that remained over there, partially because they hadn't really been paying attention in the first place.

Caden looked around at the class, and hoped others would get the point to do the same. "Well..I guess that covers it. Italian it is!" She smiled, and wrote on the board in her slanted cursive, "Buon Pomeriggio", and underlined it. "Your first lesson of the week, this phrase means 'Good afternoon'. If you can remember that, or write it in your notes if you need to, you'll get five points on the quiz at the beginning of next class."

Somewhat frantically, Caden looked up at the clock. There was five minutes till the class would officially adjourn, but why not give the kids some slack? From the looks on their faces, they'd suffered enough, and so had she. Without further adieu, she announced, "Buon pomeriggio, classe! I'm letting you out five minutes ahead of time. See you tomorrow at the same time. Enjoy your day." She flashed them a genuine smile and waited for them all to file out of the classroom, leaving an empty room. Exhaling, shoulders slumped, Caden went to gather her belongings. This wasn't what she bargained for. She wanted to be that happy, chill teacher they all loved and enjoyed learning from. But it seemed like that was going to be a lot harder than it looked. She'd really have to give all the effort she could muster to get through to them. It looked like it was going to be one tough semester.

Grabbing her board, jacket, and satchel, Caden checked the floor for wrappers, paper balls, and the like, cleaned up what she found, straightened the desks, and started towards the door. She gave the classroom one last look, and with a flick, turned off both sets of lights before closing the door, making her way back to the teacher's lounge as quickly as possible. It looked like it was going to be one tough semester.