Class 1 A Classroom Novels & Stories

"Grade 10-1, room 1891." I couldn’t help but be surprised when she mentioned the room where I was. It’s our first day and to my surprise, I was able to say, "What?" I was surprised when she looked at me, she looked scared and shaking. I rolled my eyes in disgust with myself. I made her scared again. But why did she mention our classroom? Isn't it ... she likes a guy among my classmates?

We sign the accord in the second classroom because there is no other room big enough that still feels honest. The first classroom is for lessons. The keep is for war. The courtyard is for bread. The second classroom is for asking, so we bring the table from the floor and let Hayes and his people take off their shoes at the door.

"I recall when that wasn't a clause. Just a guess shared among weary people working night shifts." Caelan arched an eyebrow. "How do you classify a guess?" She shrugged. "You wait until there are enough of them that they add up." Outside, the countryside stretched broad—and sounded different now. Not louder. Not softer. Just heard. --- 11:37 AM — Sector A, Education Bay 2 An indoor classroom under canvas—two sides open, low benches in staggered rings. A team of rotating youth facilitators led students through diagrams of soil membranes in layers.

When we entered this classroom Shin immediately locked the door and turned on the light. I looked around. There is no window on the side where the opposite is the hallway, the other side looks like it has a window but it is covered by a very thick curtain that the only light that serves is this light. The two doors at either end automatically need a key card. In the end, there is what looks like a mini-clinic, and there is also a locker there that I just saw, because most of all the classroom—no, all the lockers are there in the locker hallway. And the seats that are over twenty are one seat apart away from each chair and table. The size of this classroom is triple the size compared to the o

Philipa stiffened. Draven, who was leaning casually against a desk, lifted his head sharply. A low growl rolled from his throat. Instantly, the laughter died. The teacher sighed lightly, clearly used to such scenes. “You must be confused about the classroom numbering,” he said calmly, looking at Philipa. “That happens often with new students. This is Class A—for advanced senior students.”He pointed toward the door.“Newbies attend Class D. You should head there.” Relief flooded her chest.“I—yes, sir,” she said quickly. “Thank you very much.”

He doesn't even know where this Class 1A is located considering the many rooms that dwelled in this building. And after countless minutes of aimless walkabout he finally found his class. Class 1A,which read on the wooden part of the transparent door. He emerged into the medium sized class of teenagers most of them 16,17,18 in age. Their distinctive chatter came to an abrupt end at his presence. He didn't bother to even glance at them rather,he walked to his desk dropping his empty note noisily. "The name is Arthur." He announced in a cold manner. His face weren't any different either,he shot icy glare at every single person.

Then there is me, not that I fit into any of those groups. Walking through the hall to my first class, Minnie talks my ear off about the latest work we are doing, entirely too excitable for a Monday morning. The people lining up outside the classroom all take a good look at me, interested in the new person invading their territory, sizing me up. The classroom is average, with pale aquamarine walls, rows of glossy wooden desks sitting neatly in perfectly proportioned rows, colourful posters displaying tips and tricks stuck neatly around the room, and a large, clean blackboard standing behind the teacher's mahogany desk. Of course, you cannot forget the large clock hanging by the far wall in b

) or close to my spot at least. Sage Academy students' minds are set to destruction when class begins. Sure, you can befriend them but I advice you to not get too attached or you might feel betrayed when that happens. And when I said earlier that this is a minefield? It's the literal meaning, not a metaphor. So yeah, welcome to Class 1-A. I hope you survive.

8 classrooms from 1st floor and the 8 stood on the 2nd floor. Luis Park first counted. It has 16 classrooms. He just checked it. Then he took his ID. "1-1" It says he was a 1st-year section 1. That means the first room. Then he passed the first room. He was not excited to see his new classmates. He moved to the 2nd room. He entered without hesitation. "Good Morning." He said. "Ugh!" The whole 1-2 was shocked by his sudden entrance.

The school was a tidy, modern building with pastel colors and a manicured lawn. Thomas parked along the sidewalk and turned slightly in his seat. "You're walking her in," He said, more like a command than a suggestion. "Building A. First floor. Class 1B." "Got it." I replied, stepping out and helping Angelina down. I held Angelina’s hand as we crossed to the entrance of the building and a woman behind the reception desk smiled before giving me a visitor badge and pointing us toward the kindergarten wing. Angel held my hand all the way to her class.