"That Voice Again…"

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She walked into her classroom like any other normal morning... or so she thought.

☀️ The sun was shining just a little too brightly. The hallways were buzzing with the usual back-from-break energy. And Sarah—creature of habit, introvert extraordinaire, certified back-row dweller—drifted toward her sacred sanctuary: last row, farthest corner, directly behind the world’s tallest potted plant. 🪴

The bell SHRIEKED like a banshee on espresso ☕🔔, officially signaling the start of a brand-new semester.

The room filled with a growing hum of excited chatter.

Somewhere in the chaos, Sarah caught whispers floating through the air:

“New teacher this time!”

“He’s super strict, I heard—like, military-vibes strict.”

“No, no, my cousin said he’s friendly. And hot. Mostly hot.” 😳🔥

Sarah slunk lower in her seat, mentally fusing herself with the chipped paint on her desk. 🪑🫠 Let me become one with the furniture. Let me fade into the laminate. She didn’t care about new teachers or hotness levels. She just wanted to survive the day without eye contact or small talk. A very modest dream, really. 😶

Then it happened.

A voice.

A booming, too-familiar voice cut through the air like a chainsaw through butter. 🪚🧈

“GOOD MORNING, FUTURE MATHEMATICIANS!” 📣📐📊

Sarah’s soul momentarily left her body. 😵‍💫 Her blood ran cold. Her brain froze. Her stomach did a triple backflip off a diving board.

No.

It can’t be.

Please, oh please, let me be hallucinating.

She cautiously peeked through the safety curtain of her overgrown bangs. And there he was.

Standing at the front of the classroom.

Smirking.

Bus Guy. 🚌😨

The same stranger she had awkwardly bumped into during a rainstorm last week, nearly falling face-first into his lap. The one she may or may not have shouted “SORRY I’M A DISASTER” at before scrambling off the bus like it was on fire. 🔥💀

Her eyes widened.

(〇o〇；)

Full anime-mode panic activated.

Because it was him.

He scanned the class casually... then his gaze locked on her. And smirked. 😏

Not a big, obvious smirk—just a tiny twitch at the corner of his lips. The “I know exactly who you are and I’m 1000% amused” kind of smile.

Sarah wanted to melt into her chair. Or the floor. Or the Earth’s core. 🌍🔥 Teleport me to Mars, Scotty. Or the Moon. Or another galaxy. Anywhere but here.

“I’m your new math teacher,” he said with a grin. “You can call me Mr. David. Or just David. Now, it's your turn to introduce yourselves!” 😁📘

A collective groan echoed around the room.

“Ughhhh introductions…”

“Nooo not again…”

“My only hobby is sleeping, don’t make me say that out loud!” 😩💤

But Sarah was far too busy having a full-blown existential meltdown in her chair to join in the chorus of despair. 😵‍♀️💥

This is it. I’m being karmically punished.

For every awkward thing I’ve ever said. For calling that cashier “mom” last summer. For waving at someone who wasn’t waving at me.

This is cosmic retribution.

One by one, her classmates stood up and shared their names, hobbies, weird facts, and Netflix obsessions.

“I’m Jake, and I build Lego cities in my basement.” 🧱

“I’m Nia, and I’ve watched Bridgerton five times.” 👑

“I’m Carlos. My hobby is annoying my siblings and surviving high school.” 🙃[college]

Sarah could feel her turn approaching like a freight train covered in glitter and doom. 🚂✨💀

Then it happened.

“And you, in the back row,” David said casually, but his eyes were locked directly on her.

🎯 Direct hit.

Sarah blinked. Her brain screamed. Her soul tried to exit her body again.

Slowly, like a deer in slow-motion headlights 🦌🚗💥, she stood.

Head bowed.

Face blazing red. 🍅🔥

She was now 70% embarrassment and 30% human.

She imagined herself as a ninja. Silent. Invisible. Able to vanish in a cloud of smoke. 🥷💨

But unfortunately, stealth mode was not available in real life.

“U-uh… I’m… Sarah,” she croaked, voice barely louder than a mouse in a pillow fort. 🐭🛏️

David raised an eyebrow, his amused smirk still quietly mocking her from the front of the room.

“And... any hobbies, Sarah?”

Sarah stared at him. Don't make me say it. Don’t make me tell the truth.

But the words escaped her lips like a betrayal.

“Crying in bookstores.” 😭📚

The room went silent. Then someone giggled. Then another. And then—

The entire class burst into laughter. 🤣😂💀

Even David chuckled, holding up his hands in mock sympathy.

“That’s valid. Honestly, same.” 🤷‍♂️

Sarah sat down, face still tomato-red, but slightly less mortified. Just slightly.

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