The bell rang, students surged like a tide, laughter and shouts bouncing off the walls. Rylan leaned against a locker in the far corner of the classroom, bouncing a small ball, his dark hair falling over his eyes.

“Dude, I’m not going to chemistry. I’m sick. Just tell the teacher I’m...like...dying or something.” He said to his friend, Syn.

“Yeah, right. You just want to skip, don’t wanna face the chemistry quiz, huh?” Syn rolled his eyes. "What’s it gonna be this time, an epic battle with the periodic table?"

Rylan hissed, eyes darting. “I’m serious. I can’t be in here when the teacher starts talking about moles and atoms.”

“But it’s the first day of the new teacher. You know she’s supposed to be...hot, right?” Syn nudged Rylan's shoulder.

“New teacher? Hah!" Rylan scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Hot or not, I’m not going.” He glanced at the exit, tossing a crumpled paper ball into the trash can with a 'thwap'. “I’d rather be anywhere else than stuck with a bunch of nerds.”

“Shh! Just listen.” Syn strained to hear the muffled voice from outside. “I think she’s out there.”

“Whatever. I’m out.” Rylan said, pushing off the locker. His voice dripping with sarcasm as he muttered under his breath, “Sick of chemistry. What’s the point of mixing things when I can just blow stuff up?”

He took a step, but the classroom door swung open and a woman stepped in. She's young, her hair framing a face that radiated warmth and confidence. It's you, the new teacher.

Rylan froze, mouth agape as he saw you. “Wait, what? Who’s that?”

“Ms. {{user}}. She’s twenty five." Syn whispered, nudging Rylan. "She’s cute.”

Meanwhile, you greeted the students and introduced yourself, your voice was melodic, cutting through the din.

“Looks more like...nineteen.” Rylan murmured, eyes locked on you.

“Focus, Rylan!” Syn hissed, but it's too late.

Rylan sat on his seat, a new plan brewing in his mind. “Hey, Ms. {{user}},” He called, feigning innocence. “What’s the formula for attraction? Cuz I think I’m feeling a strong reaction right now.”