CHAPTER 40: CHAPTER 40: DOESN’T IT MAKE YOU STAND OUT?

The classroom hummed with noise long before the lesson began. Books slammed onto desks, pens clicked endlessly, chairs screeched across the tiled floor. Whispers and laughter of students filled the air.

Some students leaned over their desks, gossip dripping off their tongues. Others lean back, chewing gum, spinning their pens, pretending like they had all the time in the world.

A small cluster of girls by the window kept glancing at the door every few seconds, giggling into their palms. "Do you think he’ll show up today?" one of them whispered.

Not everyone was entertained. The super active felicia sat cross-legged on her chair, twirling her pen between her fingers, unimpressed by the excitement around her. To her, noise was nothing more than distraction and that’s the last thing she needed. She needed to prepare her mind for what’s about to happen, for the teacher about to come take them, for the eyes he’s going to be throwing at girls. She doesn’t care, it’s non of her business, as long as those stares are not thrown at her or her girl, Athena or else, she wouldn’t hesitate to plug out his eyes and feed it to him.

Athena, on the other hand, barely lifted her gaze from the open notebook on her desk. Her expression was calm, sharp, deliberate. She wasn’t here for silly rumors or fleeting thrills. She was here to study and she would do just that.

The door opened shifting everyone’s attention to it.

The chatter didn’t immediately die, but it faltered. Their chemistry teacher stepped in, dressed crisply, posture perfect, the way he carried himself was too composed, too calm for someone with a terrible reputation flying around him.

Some people are naturally shameless, obviously he’s one of them.

His gaze swept across the room, like nothing got to him, ignoring all the stare and dagger some girls are throwing at him. If eyes could kill, he would be long dead by now. No miracle in this world would save him but, frankly he cared less.

"Good morning, class." His voice was low, even, professional.

A wave of responses followed, some polite, some lazy, some no more than grunts. A few girls straightened their backs, smiling faintly, while others shifted uncomfortably under his presence. He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t scold. He simply moved toward the desk, setting his files down with neat precision.

"I trust you are ready," he said, adjusting his spectacles before facing the digital board. "Today, we begin with Acids, Bases, and Indicators. A foundational concept. If you intend to build your chemistry, you will need to pay attention."

After writing the topic on the digital board, he fixed back his gaze at the students. "Acids and bases form the..."

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when the door cracked open again.

The sound alone was enough to drag every head in the room toward it.

Theodore.

He stepped in with a calm arrogance that filled the room instantly, like the air shifted to make space for him. His pace was unhurried, his expression unreadable yet sharp enough to provoke. He didn’t look at the teacher. Didn’t offer a greeting. Didn’t apologize for being late. Well he would have, if the teacher was worth it.

It was as if the room and the authority in it belonged to him.

Whispers rippled immediately. Some girls straightened, tucking their hair behind their ears as a shy smile formed across their lips and Athena almost roll her eyes at them. Others leaned closer together, smothering excited gasps.

But Theodore didn’t acknowledge any of it. He cut through the stares without care, his stride steady, unshaken.

He walked straight to his sit, pulled out a chair beside Athena, and sat down like the seat had been waiting for him all along.

Athena’s pen stilled. Slowly, she turned her head toward him, her blue eyes narrowing into a sharp glare that could cut through stone.

Theodore only tilted his head, the faintest curve of a smirk touching his lips as he met her gaze, bold, unbothered, as though her silent warning was entertainment.

Athena exhaled sharply and faced the front again, ignoring him. Not that it was easy but she was trying her best but he wasn’t making it easy, especially with the sudden coldness she felt in her bone making a shiver run down her spine.

She realized everytime she’s near him, the air around them is always unusually cold and she couldn’t help but wonder, if its him or just the weather.

"Now," the teacher’s voice flowed evenly, cutting through the whispers and giffles that still buzzed around the room, "as I was saying, acids and bases form the core of chemical reactions in everyday life. From the food you eat to the medicine you take, these two properties are everywhere."

The pen moved steadily across the digital board, neat formulas and words appearing in sharp strokes.

"Acids taste sour. Bases, or alkalis, feel slippery to the touch. Both, however, have measurable strength. That strength can be tested with indicators..."

The murmuring of students softened reluctantly. The authority of his voice demanded focus, though not everyone obeyed.

Some girls still stole glances toward the row where Theodore had settled, their pens tapping uselessly against their desks.

Athena forced herself to copy down notes, though her hand was tighter around the pen than necessary. She could feel the coldness of Theodore’s presence at her side calm, steady, almost predatory in its stillness.

He wasn’t even pretending to pay attention. He leaned back lazily in his chair, eyes shifting from the board to Athena then back to the board.

Somehow Athena was starting to feel nervous and she couldn’t help but wonder if something is on her face.

She ignored him. At least, she tried. Her glare earlier had been her only acknowledgment, and she had no intention of giving him another.

"Indicators," the teacher continued, as though nothing in the room was out of place, "such as litmus, phenolphthalein, or even natural extracts like red cabbage juice, allow us to determine whether a substance is acidic or basic through color change."

His voice was calm, professional, practiced ignoring the quiet storm building in the room.

For him, this was just another lesson.

For everyone else, the atmosphere had shifted the moment Theodore Frost stepped inside.

That asshole knows how to divide his class without even trying.

The lesson flowed smoothly, as the teacher spoke of acids, bases, and the color shifts of indicators. Athena was just beginning to relax into her notes, to forget about the boy lounging at her side, when...

"You."

The word cut clean through the low hum of the classroom.

Athena’s pen froze mid-word. Her head lifted, her heartbeat skipping as she realized the teacher’s eyes were fixed squarely on her.

"You’re the new girl, aren’t you, the one that stirred up the whole school?" His lips curled in a smirk, tone wasn’t harsh, simply curious, edged with something that made her feel like she was under a microscope.

"Yes," Athena answered, her voice calm but clipped, careful not to betray the sudden rush in her chest.

The teacher stepped away from the board, slow and deliberate. His shoes clicked lightly against the floor as he closed up the space between them, stand in front of her.

The entire class hushed. Even the sound of pens scratching paper faded.

Felicia gaze sharpened ready to tear off the man’s head if he does anything funny.

Athena sat straighter, her jaw tightening. She could feel Theodore at her side, his lazy posture unchanged, yet his presence heavier that before as he peered onto the man.

The teacher’s gaze dropped from her face to her hair. His smile curved faintly as he leaned forward just slightly, close enough that his hand lifted, fingers brushing a strand that had slipped loose from her braid.

"White hair..." he mused, his tone almost playful, like he was teasing out a riddle only he understood. "Unusual. Striking. Doesn’t it make you stand out?"

Athena flinched, not outwardly, but inside. Still, her chin tilted defiantly, and when she shifted her head away from his touch, it was sharp and decisive. Her gaze sharp.

His fingers brushed the air where her hair had been, his smile lingering as though amused by her reaction.

Then his eyes flicked sideways.

"To think..." he said softly, gaze cutting toward Theodore, "that it’s so similar to Frost’s. Almost like the two of you were matched."

The words landed like a spark in a room already thick with gasoline.

The class collectively held its breath.

Theodore’s remained perfectly unreadable. But at the teacher’s remark, he shifted—just slightly. Enough for the light to catch his eyes, cold and lethal.

The look he gave the teacher wasn’t a glare. It was worse.

The kind of stare that stripped the air of oxygen, that made the pit of your stomach drop even when it wasn’t directed at you. A silent warning that lingered sharper than any words could have.

The teacher’s smile faltered for half a second.as his eyes connected with Frost. Just half a second but everyone caught it. He straightened quickly, retreating a step as though nothing had happened, returning his attention to the board.

"Anyway," he said, his voice just a shade too brisk as he turned back toward the board. "Let’s continue."

But the room knew better.

The tension didn’t fade. It lingered in the charged silence, in the pounding of hearts and the weight of Frost’s stare.

Athena, still steady in her chair, forced her eyes back to her notebook.