Hellooooooo.

Chapter two is here.

Woo.

--
-

Brandon Dylanson.

Or Brad as he liked to be called

First class man whore. Self proclaimed 'womaniser'. Cause of 90% of his teachers' stress issues.

"Brandon, pay attention or you're out."

Scott turned away from the board after having to tell him to shut his mouth for the third time since the lesson started.

"But, like, if I'm gonna be famous why do I need to know what Pi is?"

Some of the class giggled and his 'day-one bro' congratulated him with an aggressive pat on the back.

"Well if you were paying attention then you would know that Pi has nothing to do with what I'm trying to teach you."

Scott went back to writing the question on the board, mentally praising himself for not stuttering or messing up his comeback.

"Whatever. You'll be laughing when I get my record deal." The boy said shrugging his shoulders.

"I didn't take you as the singing type, Mr.Dylanson."

Scott finished the last question and put down the marker. He was actually quite intrigued.

"I ain't gonna be no singer, Sir. I'm gonna be a rapper."

Scott couldn't help it.

He should have been happy Brandon was thinking about the future. Years of teacher training told him to encourage every child's ambitions.

But he couldn't help it.

He laughed.

"I'll show you."

He got out of his seat and put a foot on his chair.

"Someone drop a beat!"

Brandon stood up on his chair and looked around at the class. Most were either as amused by him as Mr Hoying was or were simply confused.

'Day-one bro' - or Justin Perez - started to make some very strange noises with his mouth. Scott really wanted to record it for Mr.Olusola to listen to later.

Then Brandon started rapping. Mr.Perez on background parts.

"The name's Brad. It me."

"It me."

"It's Brad, can't you see?"

"See."

"My eyes are green like da grass."

"Da grass."

"But you know..."

"You know."

"...I be hating maths!"

Then Justin started banging on the table and made some sort of war cry.

The class were clapping. Sarcastically of course but the two boys didn't care. They bowed and continued to make some sort of gang sign with their hands.

Scott was at a loss for words.

He was supposed to be shouting at them to stop or sending them out but he was about to break into fits of laughter. He didn't really know what had just happened but it was hilarious.

He sat down at his desk to calm himself before standing back up to get the class' attention.

"Ok, come on guys. I know that performance was..."

Words. Describing words. Think fast.

"...Very special but you all have work to do."

The rest of the class picked their pens back up and starting to write the questions from the board. But, of course, Brandon and Justin were still stood up.

"Perez. Dylanson."

They continued to do some weird dance that resembled Drake from the Hotline Bling music video.

Somehow they made it worse.

"Brandon, Justin, sit back down."

Mr Hoying walked over to their desks. They were still 'dancing'.

"If you don't sit down right now."

Scott didn't want to use his teacher voice. It made him sound a lot older than 25 and he hated when his old teachers used it.

"That's it."

Both boys turn and faced Scott.

"To Miss.Maldonado's office!"

------

"Hello gentleman. What can I do for you today?"

Kirstie watched as the two boys shuffled in with their hands in front of them.

It was completely obvious they were scared of her and she found it incredibly amusing.

"That math teacher sent us." Their heads hung low as they took a seat.

"Mr.Hoying? He doesn't usually send students to me. What did you two do?"

She was a little surprised by the appearance of Scott's kids. He could normally sort them out himself.

"Basically, me and my bro were showing him what we want to do in the future."

She nodded her head in understanding but was still confused as to why Mr.Hoying had sent them to her.

Suddenly she remembered who the two boys in front of her were. Their futures probably weren't going to be anything appropriate to show in the classroom.

"And what do you want to do in the future?"

She was asking questions in a polite but intimidating way.

"Rappers." They muttered.

She couldn't help it. She laughed too.

"Detention for both of you."

Their faces were priceless, but that's what you get for attempting to rap in a math class.

-------

"You can sit over there. I don't care what you do, just do it quietly."

Brandon had been sent to Mr.Grassi and was told to not distract anyone in the class.

"I'll give you two minutes to pick your groups." Mitch announced to the class leaving Brandon to sit in the corner of the room.

Everyone started to find their friends and create groups in the space.

"We get to pick? You're like the best teacher, I swear."

Mitch had no idea what this guys name was but he liked him.

His style? Not at all. But his opinion of him? Hell yes.

Smiling proudly, Mitch waited for everyone to stop moving around.

"Doesn't every teacher let you pick?"

He couldn't help but ask the same kid.

"Not really. Mr.Kaplan definitely doesn't."

Mitch's grin spread across his face. Ha.

"Sir?" Brandon shouted from the corner.

"Please don't call me that, it's Mr.Grassi or just Mitch."

Secretly Mitch hated when students called him Sir because it sounded too kinky. It made him think of things he should not be thinking about in front of his class.

"Do you like Mr.Kaplan?"

This kid was too nosey. Mitch sighed and replied with his well rehearsed answer.

"I don't dislike any of my colleagues, Brad."

"No. Do you like Mr.Kaplan?"

That little bitch! Why the hell would he think that? Damn teenagers.

"Why do you think that?"

The class was now watching their conversation very closely.

"Well you smile when someone says his name and, like, you pretend to hate him and shit."

Mitch chuckled but his face remained emotionless. It was a little unnerving.

"Let me get this clear."

He looked around at everyone in the class and eventually set his eyes on Brandon.

"I will never ever like Mr.Kaplan."