Page 1 of Mr. Silver
Fearne
“Kelsey, Alyssa, my classroom isn’t a beauty salon. Please put the make-up away.” I call out to the girls at the back of the room who are too busy dolling themselves up to pay attention to a single word I’m saying. “Kelsey! Alyssa!” I snap again.
They drag their eyes up from the mirror they’re staring into.
“Yes, Miss,” Kelsey calls, thinking I’m taking the register.
“Put the make-up away.”
“Just one minute.”
“No. Now.”
It’s Friday morning. The weekend is so close I can almost taste it, but if this is a sign as to how my day’s going to go then I think I might give up now. I love my job…most days. I wanted to be a teacher for as long as I can remember, but there are just a couple of kids each year that really get on my wick. Kelsey is definitely one of them. She wasn’t in my tutor group to start with, but after having a huge fallout with another girl she had to be moved, and being the nice person I am, I offered to have her. I should have known it was a move I’d live to regret. So, now not only is she in my GCSE English class but she’s also here every single morning.
Smiling sweetly at me, she makes a show of slowly putting every item back inside her make-up bag.
I can’t help but roll my eyes as I turn back to my computer to actually do the register.
“Miss,” she pipes up again. “You have seen who’s doing the assembly today, right?”
“Uh…no.”
“OMG. Google him right now.” She’s up off her chair and rushing towards the front of the room in seconds.
“Kelsey, sit down. We’re going to be late.”
“Miss, seriously. Just quickly. You’ll totally understand why when you see him.”
Blowing out a long breath in an attempt to not allow my frustration to bubble up, I send her back to her seat. Everyone knows all about Scott Hudson’s achievements. He’s probably the most famous person to ever leave this place, and the school likes to name-drop him as often as possible.
He’s here often, but this is my first time experiencing the enigma that is Mr. Hudson. Mega successful, hugely wealthy, and according to every female—and a few male—members of staff, drop dead gorgeous. It all sounds too good to be true if you ask me.
Rushing through the register and the daily bulletin, I’m soon ushering the kids from the room and towards the main hall to see what all the fuss is about.
Walking behind Kelsey and her friends, I watch as they fiddle with their hair and attempt to roll up their skirts.
“Don’t you think he’s a little old for you?”
Turning, the girls give me a dirty look. “I’m already sixteen,” Kelsey snaps. “Why, do you think he’d be more interested in you?”
Laughing at her question, I don’t bother coming up with a response. It doesn’t matter if he is interested in me. It’s not like I’m interested in him, no matter how God-like he might be.
We join the rest of the group in the hall and I watch as each of my students find themselves a seat at the back. There’s more excited chatter than is usually acceptable, and when I look up I understand why. Every member of staff, bar me, is currently stood in a huddle, presumably around Mr. Hudson.
What is it about this guy that has everyone tied up in knots?
Our Head of Year eventually clears his throat and begins the assembly. I’m too intent on staring at the girls, who insist on chatting and giggling through whatever it is he’s saying, to look up.
The second another voice starts talking a shiver runs down my spine. It’s deep, rough, and makes butterflies erupt in my belly. Feeling ridiculous, I continue to run my eyes along the line of students in front of me, but when I see they are all captivated by the man speaking up on the stage, I decide to follow their line of sight.
I suck in a breath the moment I see him. His light eyes are staring right at me and as much as I try, I can’t pull mine away.
My heart races and my temperature spikes as our connection holds. The room falls away and the fact there are a couple hundred students right beside me is the last thing on my mind.
“Once you decide you want something, you need to use everything in your power to make sure you succeed in getting it.” His words filter through to me, then with a slight nod of his head, he looks away.
Sucking in a huge lungful of air, I turn my back to the wall and fall down on the chair beside me.
“Miss, are you okay?” Harry, one of my students, asks when he glances over to find me panting.
“Uh…yeah. I’m fine.” The concerned look on his face proves I’m not doing a very good job of looking fine, but nonetheless, he turns back to the man on the stage.
Getting control of my racing heart, I keep my gaze on the students, but I needn’t worry about them misbehaving because every set of eyes is focused on the front of the hall.
Peeking out of the corner of my eyes, I take in the man pacing back and forth across the stage. He’s wearing a dark grey suit that looks like it’s been stitched onto his body. Christ knows how much that must have cost. His sharp jaw line is covered in the most annoyingly perfect amount of stubble, and his hair…it’s silver.
