“Why isn't Mr. Lee here yet?” The class starts to rant as our representative quickly runs out to check with the office.

“Gia~!” My best friend, Bess, whines as she tugs on my arm. “What's gonna happen if Mr Lee isn't coming? Are you going out?”

“How would I know?” I shrug as I plug in my earpieces. “I can't seem to stand him. And good lord, I hate math. It'll be better if he doesn't even come at all.”

“That's true,” Bess lets out a soft sigh as she resumes tugging on my arm. “I mean, you're known as the clown in class. And somehow, everyone looks up to you!”

I guess Bess is right. Teachers who taught our class throughout the previous years seemed to hate my guts. I often skipped school to hang out with my ‘minions’, and the form teacher questioned and demanded reasons for why I simply do not attend classes and lectures. She gave up after a while though, and she no longer bothered whether there was a prominent empty seat over the years and why I was constantly missing in action. Also, considering my social background, no one dared to mess with me. I see the teachers and I don't greet and bow, unlike the whole of my cohort. They can't do anything about it either, and so that's how things have always been.

Bess is different. She isn't the typical hardworking student, because I really loathe people who can't seem to stop seeking for self-improvement. I'm not saying that Bess is a clown or a delinquent like me, because she attends classes everyday and rejects the idea of skipping school. However, she doesn't judge me. Or, to put it simply, she doesn't seem to mind the idea of having a or a bully like me as a friend. She enjoys my company, and that makes it easier for us to converse and talk about recent happenings in our lives. Bess is smart, but that does not make her snobby and start looking down on people who are different.

I hate studying. I don't see the reason why the hardworking people (or rather, nerds) in my class would waste their time memorising useless facts and sitting through lessons when they could just find a random, suitable job in the future. I mean, I'm not the brightest student, and I am not in the best class either. To be honest, you could say that I was in the first class from the back. And trust me, the people in my class could barely pass their quizzes. Why waste your time snoring in class when you could accomplish something else? Like, playing basketball or dancing? And don't go all high and mighty by saying, “I need the grades!” Because please, you're placed in a class like mine for a reason.

“I don't know, Bess.” I throw my bag on the ground as I lean back into my seat. “I only came to school today for math because my dad told me to. He said I needed to buck up on my grades.”

“Poor you,” Bess sulks as she attempts to braid her hair.

“Exactly!” I groan in frustration. “It's not like I'm the one inheriting his company one day! It's my brother. And he's more than capable of managing it well.”

I throw my hands up into the air in frustration. Well, I do have a bad temper and a problematic attitude.

Suddenly, the doors to the lecture theatre burst open and in enters our class representative (who is panting as if he'd completed a race along Nile river), and a strikingly tall man with perfectly and carefully blown, brown hair. He doesn't have glasses on, unlike Mr Lee, and he's donning a plain white linen shirt with the top two buttons left ed. He takes swift yet large strides towards the podium with the entire class gawking at him. His legs move rhythmically, and the room is so quiet with the only sounds you can hear the sharp scraping of his shoes against the ground.

The class doesn't even speak when he finally stands behind the podium, his eyes sweeping over the entire class. I scoff, silently laughing at the intimidating aura this man is emitting.

“Good morning,” he says as I glance at Bess whose jaw was dropping. “I am Kim Jongin, and you can address me as Mr Kim. I am your new Mathematics teacher starting from today.”

Oh crap.