After the first period, Maths, Brandon acquainted himself with a boy called Joey, and his other friend Ben.

“How’d you like the school so far? It sucks, right?” Ben asked. 

Brandon shrugged. “Nah, I wouldn’t say so.” They walked past a group of four girls. The albino one caught his eye. She also looked at him. 

“The chicks are nice,” he said.

Joey laughed. “Wait till you see Mistress Gardner.” He slowly shook his head. “The most hottest in the school.”

Brandon saw Skitzo among a large group of leaners. He nodded his head and Brandon nodded back. 

“You know him?” asked Ben.

“We live in the same area.”

“She’s Tim Gardner’s wife, by the way,” Joey said.

“Who?”

“The English teacher. Mrs. Gardner.”

“You mean the author, Timothy Gardner?” 

“That’s right.”

The class arrived at Room 23 and found her on a big chair by the desk. She was writing something. She opened another page and wrote on it too. She didn’t look up as the learners followed each other inside the class. On the black board was the words MRS GARDNER. As Brandon got in he checked her out and realized that Joey was right.  

She wasn’t in a clear facial view, looking down at the papers she was writing on, but Brandon could still see the beauty. She looked up and met his gaze. And then she looked back down and continued with whatever she was writing. Caught staring and feeling a little ashamed, Brandon looked away. She had caught him unexpectedly with those pretty eyes, and he now feared to steal another glance. He took up the nearest front seat. 

He stole another glance then he looked away again. She was still writing. He knew this was all silly. But something made him feel like this was personal, like it was just him and her. Only his stare mattered. She looked back at me, he thought. 

“You see her, bro?” Joey said. 

Brandon nodded. “Seeing is believing.” 

Once the learners were seated and quiet, Mrs. Gardner put the pen down and got up. She walked from her desk to the middle of the front, near the board. So silent was the class the only sound they heard was the kwak kwak kwak made by her high heels.

Brandon, now warranted to look at her for as long he wished, felt funny. He hoped his face didn’t show it. She obviously looked better standing up than seated. The mean, concentrated expression she had when she was writing dissolved into a young and innocent face. Her cheeks puffed pink. Her long, black and silky hair laid perfectly on her shoulders.

“What class is this?” she asked one learner at the front, not Brandon. Her voice sounded deep. 

“Grade 11H,” said the boy. “Sir Anderson’s class.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Good morning. How were the holidays?” 

Various responses arose from almost each desk. “It was mid. December’s overrated.”

Brandon’s eyes wandered beneath her face, down to her chest and thighs. She had a perfect body. She’d visit the gym, it’s obvious. It seemed fair and understandable for her to be married to someone as famous as Tim Gardner, the writer. She herself had the appearance of someone famous. 

“Feels like I’ve seen her before,” said Brandon. “Like…on TV.”

“Of course. She’s Tim’s wife.”

“Okay. Quiet, quiet,” she said. “Enough about the holidays. Don’t worry, they’ll be back again. Eleven months from now.” The class laughed. “It’s only eleven months guys. Right. I’m sure some of you are familiar with me, those who have been schooling here for a while.”

A few hands went up. She acknowledged those she knew. 

“Martin Cooper, oh, high five, high five.” She went to where the white bespectacled kid was seated and high fived him. “Last year’s overall top three achiever, can we give him a round of applause?”  

The learners clapped hands.

“The smartest here in Park Town High,” Joey told Brandon. “Too nerdy.”

“That kid?”

“Yeah. He young too, about seventeen. They made him skip the ninth grade ‘cause he that smart.”

Martin Cooper accepted the applause with a shy smile. 

“Definitely not aiming for top three this year, huh? We only going higher.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Alright.” Nicole returned to where she’s been standing, right in front of Brandon. He began to feel a little bad that she didn’t look at him again. It meant the moment of eye-contact they shared earlier meant nothing. 

“To those who don’t know me, as I’m already seeing new faces,” she said, looking around at those new faces, but not Brandon’s. “My name is Mrs. Gardner.” She stepped aside so the learners can see the name on the board. “This is how you spell it. G, A, R, D, N, E, R. Gardner. Mrs. Gardner,” she said.

Some learners cackled again, even though she didn’t mean it as a joke. 

“Some words don’t need to be underestimated, guys. You know when you have to write a simple word and then you forget it’s spelling,” she said. “That time the word is short. Like Go.” 

Laugher.

“No, I’m kidding. Anyways.” She was about to fetch the textbooks to begin the day’s lesson but she paused. She looked at Brandon. He raised his hand.

“Yes?” 

“Excuse me, Ma’am, but you said your name is Mrs. Gardner,” he said. 

“I believe so, yes.” 

“I’m afraid that’s incorrect, Ma’am,” he said. Some classmates behind him made noises of disbelief. “What’s there on the board is your marriage title. Not your name.”

She smiled at Brandon. Some part of him melted. He almost blushed, but he managed to harden his face and pretend to rub something off his eye. 

“When I said it’s my name I didn’t mean it in a literal sense, boy. Some things are just too obvious,” she said. “But either way, thank you for raising that point. I hope it’s a lesson tip for you guys. A name can be any word we use to identity someone with and call them by. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a name you were given at birth, or whatever’s on your I.D.”

She looked into his eyes. Again, he felt like it’s only him and her. Everybody else has vanished. 

“There’s no formality to it,” she said. “I prefer to be called Mrs. Gardner, which you said it’s my marriage title. That’s what I prefer here, therefore it’s my name. That’s what I want.”

He saw things in her eyes. Moving things. 

“Well, if you insist.” And just like that the trance-like gaze ended as she twirled and went to the board. She used the brush to erase MRS next to GARDNER. And then on that space she wrote NICOLE. She returned her eyes to him. “Satisfied?” 

Once again the class laughed. 

Brandon didn’t know what to say. 

“This is my name,” she said. “And what is yours?”

“Brandon.”

“Pardon?” 

“Brandon,” he said.

“Brandon. Everybody meet Brandon. Get up please, round of applause.”

Hands clapped while he stood up.

“Everybody say hi, Brandon.” 

They all said it happily, a little too loud. It sounded like a joke. He immediately sat down and heard more laugher behind him. He saw Nicole laughing too. For some weird, unknown reason he remembered Jules, his ex. Nicole looked down at him. “Brandon who?”

“Jacobs.” 

“What?” 

“Jacobs.” 

“The class can’t hear you.”

He rolled his eyes and slumped down on his chair, opened a book.

“It’s Jacobs, Ma’am,” Joey said. 

Tell us: Which teacher did you fear the most in highschool?