Not Your Average Cover Teacher, chapter 1

Emerald slumped in her seat in music class, completely bored. Ten minutes into their double period, and still no teacher had appeared. The preps had lynched the drumkits, the nerds had dismantled the only working guitar weeks before, and every other instrument in the room had been taken.

A screwed up paper ball hit the back of her head, and she turned to see members of the junior football team guffawing at her.

"Pricks" she muttered, then pulled her notebook from her backpack just as the door opened and the principal walked in. There was a mad rush as everyone got back into their seats.

"Good afternoon class." He looked straight at Emerald. "Miss Taylor, I believe I told you you weren't allowed in school with green hair, and wearing those clothes. If you're wearing them tomorrow there'll be serious trouble."

The rest of the class laughed, but were silenced with a glare.

"Right, as you might have gathered, Miss Elridge is absent today, but we have a substitute teacher. He's in a fairly successful rock band, but, well, let's just say something was displayed that shouldn't have been, he's on community service, so being here today is part of that. That does not mean you can skive class however. You will all work hard and be on your best behaviour. He'll be along in a minute."

He left and the whole class started chattering. Emerald slipped into a daydream, hoping against hope she was thinking right.

Not too long before, she'd been at a gig, and at that gig, a certain drummer had come foward to sing a song, and had 'accidentally' broken his belt, so his pants fell to the floor to reveal he had no underwear on... Em had been in the front row.

She smiled to herself, and caught sight of a head with brown hair peering throught he window, pulling faces at the sight of the rest of the class. The figure caught her eye, and grinned. She watched him take a deep breath, then enter the classroom.

Without a word, he walked to the chalkboard and began to write: "My Name is Mr. Cool, a. K. A. Mr Fantastic, Mr Incredible, God."

Em grinned even wider, hardly able to believe it. Tre turned to the class, and regarded them with a steely gaze. He walked round to the front of the teacher's desk, and sat on the edge.

Em gasped, and he looked up, and did the same. They were both wearing identical red tartan trousers, a black shirt with red tie and black converses.

"Well, someone has style anyway. Right, good afternoon class."

No-one replied He cleared his throat. "We'll try that again; good afternoon class."

Em fought to stop herself giggling as the rest of the class mumbled a welcome.

"Excuse me, little miss punk girl, you didn't say good afternoon."

"I'm sorry. Good afternoon God."

Tre nodded, and winked at her; the rest of the class looked at her like she was mental. Tre took a register, then looked around the classroom, biting his lip as he looked at the instruments.

"Do you guys actually have to play these shit kits? And where are all the guitars. You, punk girl, Emerald, where the fuck is all the good stuff?"

"Um, school budget can't pay for better kits, the nerds over there took the only working guitar apart two weeks ago, and the rest... I don't go near them."

"Fuck that. Right, anyway, what are we sposed to be doing?... Theory, shit. I never could do that. Ah well, it's obvious most of you don't actually want to be here, so if you don't, you may skip class, I won't tell."

Immediately all the jocks and preps and barbie girls leapt to their feet and left the room, shooting Tre dirty glares as they went. Only the nerds and Emerald were left; the former because they were scared to leave, and Emerald because she was the only one who actually wanted to be in the class.

"You guys back there want a library pass or something? I can do that, since you look shit scared sitting here."

Once the nerds had departed, Tre turned back to Em.

"What about you? I would have thought a punk would be the first out of that door."

"No, I actually want to be here, I want to be in music class."

Tre smiled. "Good girl. So what do you play?"

"Bass and drums."

"Drums huh?" He pulled drumsticks out of a bag Em hadn't seen him drop off. He nodded at the least dilapidated kit. "Show me."