She has been teaching for more than ten years. Although she doesn’t have many great achievements, her qualifications are definitely stronger than Xiao Liu’s. She believes the school has no reason to make things so difficult for her. Little does she realize that her straightforwardness and tendency to speak without thinking, along with her low emotional intelligence, have offended quite a few people.

“Why? Why did they assign such a class to me? Isn’t this deliberately making things hard for me?” Chelsea Shaw was so angry that she didn’t even want to prepare anything for the upcoming class meeting. “What is the school thinking? Do they think it’s better to let two rotten apples spoil my whole pot of soup?”

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12. Chapter Twelve

After being comforted by her colleagues in the office, Chelsea Shaw finally felt a bit relieved and picked up the roster to head to the classroom. By the time she left the office, more than ten minutes had already passed since the scheduled class meeting time.

Ethan Young wasn’t late on purpose. He only headed to the teaching building after organizing all his things, which delayed him a bit. He was already prepared to be stopped at the classroom door, but unexpectedly, the homeroom teacher arrived even later than he did.

As Ethan Young passed by the window, the previously noisy classroom suddenly fell silent. Everyone sat up straight, eyes forward, even though there was nothing written on the blackboard.

“Classmates, my surname is Liu, given name Cunhao, that’s right, Luke Carter. I believe you’ve all heard some legends about me. Last year, I was the class monitor of Class 7, Grade 10. I have a lot of experience in class management, but I hope that when it comes time to elect class officers—please, don’t pick me.”

Everyone was as quiet as a mouse, except for one boy who was still standing, back to the window, talking non-stop.

He was quite a smooth talker, unconsciously gesturing in the air as he spoke: “Don’t pick me, give the opportunity to someone who needs it more, especially those who have never been class monitor before. I really think they should get a chance to practice.”

People around him were frantically winking at him, hinting to look outside, but this Luke Carter didn’t get it at all: “Anyway, just don’t pick me. What are you all doing, throwing flirty glances at me? I have no intention of starting a romance.”

—Until Ethan Young raised his hand and knocked on the door.

Luke Carter looked over at the sound and was instantly speechless: “”

His deskmate whispered, lowering his voice, “Bro Hao, everyone was hinting so obviously just now, and you were still lost in yourself.”

Luke Carter had a thousand things to say but didn’t know how to say them, so he just sat down quietly, pretending nothing had happened: “Can’t you just say it directly if something’s up? What’s with all the winking.”

Ethan Young became famous early on.

Back when he first entered the school, because of a cheating scandal, everyone saw him as a god of cheating.

At first, everyone’s discussion was: This guy is awesome, so gutsy, he even dared to cheat on the high school entrance exam. I heard that even if his original grades doubled, he still couldn’t have gotten into No. 2 High.

Later, Ethan Young skipped class and got into a fight off campus, one against five, and the whole school was notified of his punishment. The big-character posters were up on the bulletin board for almost an entire semester. He became famous in one battle.

At this moment, Ethan Young stood at the door, a backpack slung over one shoulder, one hand in his pocket, expressionless.

The classroom was already full. Even those who were out sick had asked friends to save them a seat after hearing about the class assignments, afraid they’d end up sitting next to a troublemaker when school started.

Ethan Young looked around and saw that only the last two seats in the second group were empty, so he walked unhurriedly to the back row.

Some students whispered, “Is this really okay? Doesn’t this mean the two of them will sit together? You know what they say, two tigers can’t share one mountain. What if they have some kind of chemical reaction and blow up the class?”

“Then why don’t you sit with Ethan Young?”

“I don’t want to die.”

About five or six minutes later, Chelsea Shaw finally came in carrying her books: “Is everyone here? Who’s missing?”

Luke Carter kept saying he didn’t want to be class monitor, but he was so used to it that his body acted before his brain, and he reflexively raised his hand and stood up: “Teacher, one is missing.”

Ethan Young had also had a bit to drink last night and was still dizzy, so he just lay on his arms and slept.

Chelsea Shaw glanced around, her gaze lingering for a moment on someone in the last row, then she frowned and looked away: “If they’re not here, just leave it. After the class meeting, go downstairs to get your books. You all know where to get them, right? Next, I’ll briefly go over a few key points for the class meeting.”

Chelsea Shaw didn’t want to bother with the latecomer, but the latecomer swaggered right in.

“Excuse me—” Henry Howard stood at the door, very polite, “Sorry, I’m late.”

The person at the door stood out, black T-shirt, dark blue jeans with the cuffs rolled up, a casual smile as he spoke. He was clearly the type who was always popular with the girls, the kind who could make people forgive him with just a look.

He didn’t look like those lazy, sloppy troublemakers at all—he actually looked quite sharp.

Chelsea Shaw was a bit surprised.

She had never taught Ethan Young or Henry Howard before, but she’d heard all the stories. In her mind, she’d always pictured a boy who slouched when he walked, didn’t care about studying, kicked desks and chairs, and couldn’t even wear his clothes properly.

Today, she finally saw them—though her impression of Ethan Young was just the back of his head.

Chelsea Shaw’s own child was almost in middle school, so she didn’t have the mindset of a young girl. If she didn’t like someone, she just didn’t like them. She was about to take out her frustration on him, but before she could say anything, Henry Howard reached out and pulled someone out from the side: “Please allow me to explain why I was late.”

The round-glasses-wearing student stumbled out as Henry Howard pulled him: “Hello everyone, I’m Sean Parker from Class 8, Grade 11. I suddenly had a medical episode in the hallway today. Luckily, He here helped me out. I have chronic, uh, chronic…”

Sean Parker suddenly forgot what illness he was supposed to have and stammered for a long time.

Henry Howard reminded him: “Chronic non-atrophic gastritis.”

“Can’t you give me something simpler?” Sean Parker said.

Henry Howard: “A longer name sounds more impressive.”

Chelsea Shaw was fuming inside.

Were these two treating her like a fool?

“You two are putting on a show, huh?” she said, pointing to the seats, “I don’t want to waste everyone’s time. Go find an empty seat, over there, next to the one sleeping.”

The sleeping Ethan Young stirred, maybe because he heard something or felt dozens of eyes on him. He propped up his head and slowly opened his eyes: “”

Henry Howard: “”

The atmosphere was a bit strange.

And very subtle.

Luke Carter passed a note to his deskmate, writing: Are they about to fight?

The deskmate replied: I can already feel the energy waves in the air. It’s intense.

But under everyone’s gaze, Henry Howard just said two words: “Friends?”

Ethan Young: “”

“Fate,” Henry Howard added. “What a coincidence.”

No one really knew what was going on, or when these two big shots had become friends across the two buildings, but the whole of Class 3, Grade 11, let out a collective sigh of relief.

They had all imagined a thrilling, bloody scene.

Chelsea Shaw briefly went over some things: seat arrangements, class officer elections, and left a few subjects for preview homework, ending the first session with hopes that everyone would greet the new semester with a fresh attitude.

“There’s still a bit of time left. I’ll call names from the roster. When you hear your name, come up and give a brief self-introduction.”

Amidst a round of applause, Henry Howard also clapped a few times, looking casual.

Ethan Young was still dizzy and put his head back down.

“”

“My name is Wanda, and I have many hobbies, like reading and sports.”

“Hello everyone, I’m Xavier Stone. I hope we can all work hard and make progress together.”

“Frank Miller.”

“Liam Harris.”

Henry Howard listened for a while, then patted Ethan Young on the shoulder and turned his head to ask, “Hey, do you know which one is Ethan Young?”

Ethan Young, lying on the desk, also turned his face to look at him: “Huh?”

A shy student on stage spoke so softly it was like a mosquito buzzing. After struggling for a long time to name a hobby, he finally managed to say “swimming,” and looked relieved as he stepped down.

Henry Howard added, “You know, the one from the west building, the non-mainstream idiot with black nail polish.”