Page 2 of Forced Pregnant Bride

“Done,” they echoed.

“Alright, now that you’ve had a chance to look over the folder, let’s do a quick activity that will help us relax before we launch into some more serious stuff, okay?”

A few of them in the back dropped their heads on the desk, groaning about “never-ending boring school work and activities,” which made me laugh.

“I promise, it’ll be fun.” The lot of them looked on eagerly, waiting for the next word to leave my mouth. Even I was more elated than the expectant students. “Take out your notebooks because now.... Now, you’ll be writing a letter—”

“I knew it,” a dark-haired boy named Nico with siren eyes laughed, bringing out his notebook and taking the tip of his pen between his teeth. “Ms. Garcia made us write letters on our first day in fifth grade, addressing the school and seeking permission to use the basketball court during a few periods forrecreational learning, she called it.”

“Meanwhile, she just wanted to spend time with her boyfriend,” entered Lucien, Nico’s best friend.

I frowned. “Her boyfriend?”

“Mr. Marcelo.” He cackled, earning a few lingering stares and blushes from a few of the girls in class. “She thought we wouldn’t figure out that they were dating.”

“Oh, my God,these creatures!” Salome groaned again. “Will the two of you please shut up and allow Ms. Skye to finish?”

They glared at her but didn’t speak anymore.

Apparently, she was the only girl immune to the boys’ charms.

I made a small noise in appreciation and raised a brow at the cool kids, who thought they were know-it-alls.

“Well, that was the fifth grade.” And it was no secret that Garcia and Marcelo had the hots for each other. Despite a few rules the school fixed regulating relationships between parent-to-teachers and teachers-to-teachers, the whole school knew. But…. “Ms. Garcia’s private life is none of our business, kids. Let’s focus on writing those letters, addressing them to ourselves.”

Salome wore a confused pout. “To ourselves?”

“Yes.” I smiled at her and the rest of the class. “I want you all to write a letter to yourselves about whatever you want. Or something you’d like to look back on and smile about after you complete middle school.”

“Interesting,” Nico remarked and wasted no time in starting his letter.

The class joined in, surprisingly excited to pen down their thoughts and show me. Pens tapped on the desk, students hummed, chairs scraped the floor, lightning flashed through the skies, and in half an hour, I had more hands in the air than we could entertain. Smiling, I selected one of the girls at the far end of the class.

She stepped out, clutching her letter in a death grip, but met my eyes with a shy smile.

Twelve-year-old Angela Lou. She had glowing brown skin, a big mane of dark hair falling behind her back, and the brightest pair of amber eyes I had ever seen. In her records, she was always quiet.

“Go on, Angela,” I cajoled. “Please read your letter to the class. I’m sure it’s lovely.”

Stepping aside, I offered her the center stage, and quietly, she lowered her eyes to her paper.

The class went almost eerily silent, and every eye locked on the pretty star in the spotlight. Then, her melodious voice pierced through the silence, punctuating the air with an emotional, “Dear You, it’s me, Anonymous...”

It was indeed the loveliest piece I had ever heard.

****

“You’re the best of the best, Ms. Skye!”

“Thank you, Ms. Skye. I had the best first day ever!”

“See you tomorrow, Ms. Skye.”

My cheeks couldn’t get any redder as I waved goodbye to a beaming Salome before herMoanaschool bag disappeared past the threshold, and I tapped myself on the back for a job well done. Nothing was more rewarding than watching them leave with their knapsacks and genuine smiles on their faces, knowing they enjoyed every bit of the exercises we had today.

I began stacking up the textbooks and clearing the desk when movement by the door startled me. “Jesus.” My hand flew to my chest when the tall man stepped in, offering an apologetic smile, and because I stood at eye level with his chest, I tipped my head back to look at him.

“Forgive me, Ms. Skye, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

---