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Post by stefan thomas hastings on May 30, 2010 19:00:21 GMT -5
 i'm so starstruck[/color][/size] baby could you blow my heart up?
- - - - - - - - -[/font][/center] Stefan was walking back to his classroom after staff meeting. The meeting in question had actually been only forty-five minutes but it had seemed about twice that. He was feeling lighter now that he was out of there because said staff meeting was just another meeting where the staff accomplished nothing and he just had to sit and watch the train that was Preston Heights Academy go slowly but steadily off the rails. It was awkward to say the least, mainly because he actually wanted to improve the school.
Staff meetings had a formula that they followed strictly but almost unconsciously. Staff would start arriving at the time at which the meeting was supposed to start and for the next 20 staff would trickle in. There'd be drinks poured, from coffee to alcohol and discussions would begin. Stefan might bring up an issue but it would be waved away. Like just a few days ago he'd caught five guys from his dorm smoking God-knows-what behind MacLeod. He'd pretty much suspended them, gated them and everything else, but nobody else seemed to find this a problem at all. This frustrated Stefan to the max. No wonder the school's rep was failing hard.
He tried to push all negative thoughts out of his head as he walked back to his room. Normally he'd be out doing something active, but today he had marking and a few of the stoners had promised to come in for extra help. He highly doubted that they'd show up, but he felt the need to be there anyways. The warm breeze and warmer sun were quite enticing, keeping the halls light despite the fluorescent lights, and Stefan felt energized, like he'd just had a shot or a can of Redbull or some such caffeinated energy drink. His footsteps echoed hollowly in the fall, and he felt light despite his heavy-ass laptop banging against his hip with every step in that damn messenger bag he'd gotten on a whim last summer. Stefan wished he'd gotten something a little more his style. He had the worst luck with technology, so his laptop sucked, but with his already tiny teacher's salary he couldn't really afford to buy something better. He had his eye on that nice Macbook, but that was years away.
Unlocking the door to his classroom and entering it, Stefan was happy that he was facing the west where the afternoon sun poured in through the wide windows.
He pulled his gargantuan gunmetal gray Toshiba out of the bag, cursing it as he opened it, listened to it grunt and wheeze to life like some kids after a run, and waited for it to log him in. He swiped his fingers across the fingerprint thing, and waited, drumming his fingertips lightly against his ancient wooden desk. He dug into his bag for the sheaf of tests he had to grade, and was satisfied that they weren't too crushed. He took a sip from his water bottle, leaning away from his computer, and pulled a pen from the breast pocket of his crisp blue button-down. Not a particularly snappy dresser, Stefan wore mainly blues, whites, greys, and blacks with a few barely matching ties. Today he was wearing black trousers, not too wrinkled, a pair of black dress shoes, a light blue button-down with a navy and red tie, and a navy cardigan. Yeah, it made him feel middle-aged man-ish. He took off his cardigan, draped it over the back of his chair, and pushed up his sleeves as best he could, settling himself down to a quiet hour of marking. He checked the clock - the stoners should arrive soonish. But then, probably not. He took a look at the first test - Dale's. He shifted it to the bottom of the pile just so her result could make him feel better, and uncapped his pen, ready to work. After all, it would be rewarding later. Maybe he could go join the track kids or play some rugby if he finished early. With that thought, Stefan got more comfortable in his chair and began to write on the first test, resigning himself to mediocre results and only medium disappointment.
words 700
tag open
notes yay for muse?
music starstruck, lady gaga |
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Post by marcella aurelia samuels on May 30, 2010 22:38:52 GMT -5
Marcella did not enjoy the staff meetings. She always got there five minutes early. Sometimes even earlier. A few other teachers arrived punctually: just before or just as the meeting started. Nearly everyone else stumbled in some twenty minutes after it started. Which amounted to nothing getting done. Not that anything ever got done. Well, a few teachers attempted to still do their job. Stefan Hastings for one. She... Well, she didn't contribute much. One of the horrid secretaries had shot her down completely in front of the entire staff at one of her first meetings and it had been something of a lasting impression. Marcella found it easier to merely listen and give a vague nod when she agreed with something (which wasn't often) and the slightest frown when she disagreed with something. And then the rest of the time she just toyed with her fingers in her lap, waiting to be dismissed so she could get back to what mattered: her lesson plans, her choreography for her advanced classes, the music for the performances...
Regardless, her discomfort at this particular meeting was extended as one of the teachers asked to have a word with her once everyone had been dismissed. She wanted to discuss some of the selections for a performance test Marcella was planning and had submitted. What it actually turned out to be was this teacher injecting her opinion at every turn, expecting sweet, quiet little Samuels to just bend to her inconsequential whim. Well, Marcella had just "yes"ed and "of course!"ed her way through the conversation. But there was no way she was changing her routine or playlist. It was flawless. She had taken four straight days to perfect that performance. Marcella wasn't proud of a lot of things that she did, but this was one of those things she was.
And the entire time this teacher was talking to her, Marcella was watching --discreetly of course-- as Hastings left, hurrying out with that bag of his. Oh, merda! She had wanted to talk to him about a student... When the other woman had finally finished, Marcella nodded a final time, promised to take her suggestions into serious consideration and then bolted. Once in the hallway, she made her way for his room. She hoped she wouldn't be interrupting him in anything...
Maybe she should just wait. She could find him in the halls or in the quad or something. When she was certain he wasn't in the middle of something important. Then again, what she was coming to him with was fairly important. Not very urgent, but it could become so, if left alone... However, she didn't want to assume that her issue was more important than whatever it was that he was doing... Ah, how many times could one person use the word "important" in a single train of thought? Shaking her head, Marcella realized she was being ridiculous. All this thought and debate on a simple thing, really. Sometimes she just worked herself into a state over absolutely nothing....
Coming to the doorway, she knocked on the jamb lightly, something close to "Shave and a Haircut." Taking a few steps in, she passed a soft, warm smile to him. And then looked to his desk and saw a laptop and a stack of papers. "Oh, am I interrupting?" she asked, smile fading to a frown. Her voice was still touched with an Italian lilt, even after all those years in Canada. She mostly liked it, actually. Gave her words a sort of musical twist. That was neither here nor there, though. "I just wanted to have a quick talk with you; about a student." She retreated a step, back toward the door. "It can wait though, if you are busy."
word count 629 muse just your awesomesauce post. ^^ tag stefan/open? outfit Checking Innotes she's awkward. XD |
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Post by stefan thomas hastings on Jun 2, 2010 18:04:32 GMT -5
i'm so starstruck [/color][/size] baby could you blow my heart up?
- - - - - - - - -[/font][/center] The room was warm. Not uncomfortably so, but enough that Stefan's fingers dropped the red pen previously in their grasp, and made their way to his collar, where he tugged gently at his collar, trying to loosen his dark tie. It wasn't even that warm in his classroom but the way he had to sit still here marking tests was depressing. He pushed his chair back softly, wincing at the grating sound it made as it shifted over the dull tiled floor. Moving slowly over to the window, Stefan opened it all the way, a breeze stirring the papers on his desk lightly and mixing with the stale air of the classroom. Because his room didn't have screens, he bent over slightly and stuck his head out, taking deep breaths of the warm late March air. The sun touched his cheeks and the breeze messed his short hair. He withdrew his head, propped the window up with a chopstick because he didn't trust it to stay up on its own, and walked back to his desk, where the papers lay scattered. Collecting them with a quick movement of his hands, Stefan settled himself in his chair again, resigned to marking the tests.
Popping the cap of his pen off with his teeth, Stefan refocused on the massive stack of tests in front of him. He steadied his hand and wrote something trivial and teacher-like on the paper in front of him, the red pen searing the words into his mind. He was just massaging his temples and contemplating getting another cup of tea when he heard a familiar rap on the door. With a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he raised his head to see Marcella standing shyly in the doorway. "You're hardly interrupting," he said with a touch more of a smile. "I'm just doing the usual: marking failed tests. What did you want to talk to me about?" He stood and gestured for her to pull up a chair so they could talk. He got up and closed the door for a bit more privacy, and returned to his desk, folding his hands and recapping his pen.
"So which student is it?" Stefan inquired, shifting the pile of papers to one side with a sweeping motion and settling himself for the third or fourth time. He needed the distraction of talking to a teacher who, like him, cared deeply for her students and was actually concerned if they went off the rails. Marcella was a refreshing breath of air in a school full of train wrecks and rollercoasters. Plus, her accent was adorable. Looking her in the face, Stefan felt a little bit of a jolt go through him. He didn't know how he felt these days, whether he was interested actually, or whether he had something with Mikaela. And she was a student... Goddamn it, focus. That little voice in his head was right; he needed to focus. Shaking his head slightly to clear it, Stefan looked up again, that ghost of a smile on his lips. He had a feeling that this might be about one of the not-so-great students, but with Marcella he could never tell. Inwardly bracing himself for it, he leaned forward and got ready to listen.
words 558
tag open
notes she's not awkward, she's adorable.
music starstruck, lady gaga |
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Post by marcella aurelia samuels on Jun 3, 2010 17:25:00 GMT -5
Stefan looked up at her and Marcella felt her breath loosen a little. Gosh, it was just his eyes. They were so... Like electricity in color-form or something. She quickly regained herself though, as he assured her that she wasn't interrupting. A soft smile touched her lips. He could just be being nice; he was terribly nice after all. But either way, she appreciated it.
Following his invitation, she moved into the room. Instead of taking a seat though, she leaned back on one of the desks, resting one ankle over the other. "I've just got some...concerns," she explained vaguely, frowning. She hoped she wasn't being too hasty about this. There wasn't a real problem yet, nothing too worrisome. But Marcella knew that things could go from bad to worse in less time then it took to down a shot. And with this particular student... Well, she just didn't want that to happen. She wasn't like the others, this one, with all the drugs and sex and alcohol and general disegard for everyone else and their studies. She had potential; she could really do something, go somewhere.
"It's Dale Eckhart," Marcella finally revealed, eyes dropping down. Her hands were twisting over one another, her mouth tight in a grimace. "You know her, of course. She loves your class." Head popping up again, Marcella's eyes shone brightly. "You're apparently the father of her future children, no?" It was a known joke with the blonde junior. She had a harmless crush on her science teacher and had no qualms sharing that fact with everyone and anyone around. Marcella couldn't blame her for the crush. If Marcella had been a student of his, she was sure she'd be charmed into a puddle of nothing by his eyes and smile and easy-going demeanor, adorable.
Not that any of that mattered. Because they were co-workers and that was all. "But aside from all that," she continued, "I'm worried about Dale. She's been hanging out more and more with her Captain, Megan Evans? The girl is a good friend and the two have a good time together but I'm sure you're aware of her...habits?" Marcella cleared her throat. "I'm just worried that Dale might be picking up on those habits and I'd hate to see her go down the wrong path..."
Casting a had through her dark waves, Marcella added, "I was wondering if I could have your opinion on the matter? To see if you thought anything was amiss as well. And, if you did, maybe if you could tell me how you think the best way of handling it was." Marcella was the house advisor after all and she knew how to handle her girls. But there was nothing wring with a little outside consulting. Especially from someone as insightful as Hastings.
wordcount 468
tag stefan!
muse chris pine. <3
notes awh, thanks. stefan is pretty adorable himself ^^ |
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