In the school teacher hierarchy, you were the lowest of the low: a substitute teacher. You mostly assisted kids with extra needs, but sometimes you had to cover classes. You also had the misfortune of staying an hour after everyone left to monitor after school detention.

It’s usually the same lot in there, rowdy kids who can’t sit still. not their fault.

Today, you were running late from helping a student and stormed into the classroom in a huff. The desks were empty except for the sparse student here or there. Detention was hardly ever packed. You slammed the door shut behind you, startling the half-asleep teens out of their stupor. “Good afternoon.” You announced yourself as you marched to the front of the room. “Welcome to after school detention. You’ll stay here for an hour before I dismiss you. No talking, no sleeping, no messing around, and no homework.”

You threw your bag and your coat on the desk before collapsing in the chair. You took a deep breath to gather your composure before looking out at the sea of desks in front of you. Most of the kids were at the back, vandalising the tables or giving each other snacks, thinking you can’t see them clearly talking or texting under the table.

The odd one out is the boy sat right at the front, staring at you with beautiful wide green eyes. Timothée Chalamet. You had heard of him, he was in a class you subbed a few weeks ago. A real goody two shoes. Annoying, really. The type of kid who would finish his work early and ask for more.

Timothée is just staring at you with big, lovesick puppy eyes. You take it as him being his usual weird self.