Class 1 A Classroom Novels & Stories

He smiled warmly and gestured for me to follow him to a pair of empty seats toward the back. I slipped into the chair next to him, placing my bag on the floor, still hyperaware of my surroundings. The classroom wasn’t particularly large—rows of dark wooden desks and chairs arranged in neat lines, all facing a blackboard that had seen better days. The windows were high up, and the grey sky outside didn’t offer much light. The fluorescent bulbs overhead flickered slightly, casting everything in a pale, sickly glow.

I located the class. Inside, cool air greeted me. The corridors smelled faintly of disinfectant and new paint. I found Room 103. I found the students I met earlier were already inside and new ones. My seat was still reserved. All eyes on me. I summoned courage. I slipped into it, not looking at anyone. The classroom had a large smartboard at the front, clean tables arranged in rows, and posters of human anatomy on the walls. A model skeleton stood in the corner. I placed my folder on the table and glanced around. Most of the students looked. I read their minds swiftly.

“You mean you didn’t spend your days lounging around like the rest of us?” “Something like that,” Aria muttered, avoiding the details. The last thing she wanted was to recount everything that had happened with Kai's betrothed. Just remembering the tension at the pack house made her chest tighten. Before Karen could pry further, the classroom door creaked open. Their teacher walked in, carrying a stack of books under her arm. The chatter in the room slowly faded as students settled in their seats. “Good morning, everyone,” she greeted warmly. “Good morning, ma’am!” the class chorused, voices filled with excitement.

~ ANGELO ~ I fixed my gaze more on the number on the door as I strode down, trying to locate room 13. The security man was kind enough to point out their classroom, letting me know most of the teachers were in the building behind the colourful one I stepped into. Only a few stayed back to take care of the children as they went for their break. Though most of the kids were seated in their classes, I could hear sounds coming from the end of the hall.

i assure her. We were almost done with our food when another batch of trainees that i immediately recognize as the ones on Level 14 and 15 arrived. They also lined up for their food. I finished my food and returned the tray with Ana. We go our separate ways because we have different schedules today. I arrived early in the classroom. Just like any other classrooms here, the walls are painted white with only silver table and chairs for the students, a large screen for the projector used in teaching and a brown table for the instructor.

After the series of events from the past weeks, everything died down and everyone began settling into their normal lives, i was back tutoring evans with a renewed resolve and unshakable defence or so i thought. I was more than determined not to notice he and his sly moves. Tamine clutched the three-ring binder to her chest like a shield. She had chosen the most unromantic place possible for their first mandatory tutoring session: Classroom 214, a musty, forgotten space on the third floor that smelled vaguely of old chalk and desperation. The room was mostly empty, the low winter sun casting long, judgmental shadows across the chipped linoleum floor.

After waiting in a little queue for two minutes, we finally handed over our Academy Tokens to the receptionist. The receptionist was a middle-aged woman as well. She had a cold expression on, but nothing one could compare with Receptionist A. After scanning the tokens, she then said, “Strange enough, late comers, your trio is allotted to the same classroom. There's a recruited teacher for that class, so you better put out your best. He's not yet in class, so you're quite fortunate. Class 192. Fourth floor. We nodded and thanked her, before hurrying to the hallway. We didn't dare take the stairs for fear of increasing our lateness, so we joined a group of students heading for the fourth floor

I said. "Good," she said. "Useful ones," I said. "The kind that show where the understanding stops." "Yes," she said. "Those are the right kind." I looked at the door one more time. I went in. --- The classroom was smaller than the current school classroom. Ten students. Five tables arranged in a cluster formation. Two students per table. The walls covered in work in progress. The specific visible record of thinking happening. The questions in the margins. Just like the assessment visit.

After breakfast, we headed to the classrooms. The classroom was on the second floor, a bright space with tall windows overlooking the gardens. Twelve chairs were arranged in a semicircle, and a chalkboard stood at the front. Teaching materials, including books on etiquette, posture guides, and even a diagram showing proper curtsy technique, were laid out on the desk. I was studying these when the students began arriving. They came in groups of two or three, chattering amongst themselves and falling silent when they saw me. I recognized the assessment in their eyes; they were sizing me up, deciding if I was worth their respect or just another instructor to manipulate.

And let out a laugh. After some time of walking across the hallway, Zack says, "Here we are." He pointed at the classroom in front of us and said, "This will be your classroom for your core subjects. For elective and other subjects, classes will vary. If you have any doubts, don't hesitate to ask the teachers. They'll help you." "Thanks for the help." Zack, "Anytime." and walked away.