Chapter 5 Perfect Strike

• Zoe’s POV
• There are two things in this life that make me burst out laughing: the first one being a good joke and the second one being idiots.
• For example: the man I met due to a stupid accident just got his ego inflated enough to behave like the worst jerk with me at work. Me, who’s a sweet lady.
• Well, no, actually. I'm not a sweet lady, but let's not exaggerate—anyone can have an accident, and he still exaggerated a lot. He's such a crybaby.
• So here I am. Standing in front of everyone, including Pablo the Uber guy (who turns out to be my classmate), the grumpy teacher, and of course, my ex in the back row, disapprovingly staring at me. As if he were a saint.
• The teacher, the man I've already fought with twice today, is saying a bunch of nonsense. So what do I do? What I do best? Just laugh.
• I laugh at the irony of life putting the future father of my children Pablo (I know I'm exaggerating, but he's really hot) and the guy who drives me crazy (and I'm not talking about my ex) as a teacher, all in the same classroom for a whole year.
• Of course, I have to laugh at how foolish this man is. He surely never imagined he would see me in this place.
• "Can you tell us the joke, miss?" he asks me with that pompous English accent.
• Now that he’s speaking right at me, I notice that his English accent is not as strong, like he’s already starting to blend in even though you can tell he’s not from here. He’s also not… ugly. He just looks a bit like a grandpa with his glasses and tweed coat, but other than that, he’s very easy on the eyes.
• I take a deep breath while I see everyone staring at me as if I were a weirdo. Even Pablo the flirty guy from Uber. Ian the jerk of a teacher is waiting for me to speak, and I'm just trying to calm down my laughter enough to apologize.
• After all, it's his class and I arrived late, and let's not forget that I laughed at the situation.
• "Sorry, a jerk caused an accident at my workplace and it was impossible for me to arrive on time for class." I put on my best innocent face and raise an eyebrow as I finish my sentence.
• I didn't say I would stop being sarcastic.
• "A jerk? Are you sure about that, miss?" He takes off his glasses and approaches me, his killer pale blue eyes piercing.
• "Of course, professor. This person was disrespectful, rude, arrogant, and conceited. So yes, he's a jerk. And if you allow me, I'll go change classes. Excuse me."
• I turn around, very dignified, and open the door. Besides being an idiot, he's also unbearable, and challenging me in front of my classmates is just plain low. I’ll just try to get out of this embarrassing situation as quickly as possible.
• I walk out into the hallway and hurry down the stairs. I'll have to go to the dean’s office to get another schedule for the class and with another teacher, because I don't think I can stand another minute around him.
• I feel my head pounding and the blood running through my veins, burning. I feel anger, frustration, and annoyance because I would’ve liked to slap him, but I couldn't. He's the damn teacher.
• "Wait," a voice says behind me. I know that voice and I really don't feel like talking to him.
• "I'm in a hurry. We'll talk later," I interrupt him.
• "Sweetie, please wait.” He pulls my arm to stop me.
• It's my stupid ex-boyfriend.
• "Let go of me, David. I'm in a hurry."
• "Okay, I just wanted to know how you were. That," he says as he points towards the classroom, "was strange. Are you okay?"
• "I was until you showed up. Goodbye." I try to continue going down the stairs, but once again, he stops me.
• "It doesn't seem like it. I have the impression that you know that new teacher. The scene you two created is quite the talk.” He approaches me and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, on impulse, I remove his hand.
• “Point number one," I say, pointing at him with my finger, "you can make whatever assumptions you want, but I don't have to give you an explanation. And point number two, stop bothering me. You have nothing to talk to me about. And lastly…." I pause, pushing him with my finger. "….don't ever come near me again. If you do, be prepared for the consequences."
• “Well, I see that you're still as feisty as ever. If you stopped being such a bitch, you would understand what really happened at that party.”
• David challenges me by approaching again. My classmates start passing us by as we descend the stairs. They were probably let out earlier. Some of them stare at us to find out the gossip and slow down, while others pretend not to notice and continue on their way.
• “Did you just call me a bitch? Seriously? How dare you say that to me? I remind you once again that there's nothing to explain,” I snap.
• But his words hurt me deep down. I try to descend the stairs and get out of there when he grabs my arm again.
• “Let go of me, David!” I yell.
• My classmates flee in terror and all I can think is that they're cowards.
• “I didn't tell you to leave. And if I call you a bitch, it's because you are one, or don't you remember that one time?” he threatens me, and that's all I can bear to hear.
• My right fist lands on his handsome face. But it's the least he deserves for being such an ass. I break free from his grip and run down the stairs straight to the dean’s office. I think I'll not only have to change one class schedule—but all of them.
• I cross the campus with a lump in my throat. I'm about to reach the dean’s office when the clash of emotions from the day becomes overwhelming.
• Instead of heading towards the office entrance, I go to one of my favorite spots on campus. I arrive at the small garden behind the offices and sit under one of the trees.
• Here, I can vent without anyone seeing me.
• And for the first time since forever, I let go of my tears.