Classroom Of The Elite Read Novels & Stories

"Hello everyone, I'm Mr Howard. I will be teaching you guys for the second half of the semester of this course." The large classroom was filled with more than 200 people. This was a law school public class. The people who came to class were all industry elites. Every time, students had to compete to grab a spot in the class. Among them, there was the well-dressed and elegant Mr Howard. Mr Howard always wore a suit and leather shoes, exuding an elite demeanor. Without saying a word, he stands there like a person of remarkable talent.

Kate said and leaves to go to the bathroom. ****** He drives his car into the school's car park He comes out of the car while closing the door, some girls who were passing-by stopped to greet him "Good day Mr marcelo sir" One of the girls said who seemed timid "Oh good day young lady, how are you miss?" He replied nicely "I'm fine sir" the timid girl replied while the other stared at him admiring his handsome features. He nod at them and walked off "Ahhhh he's so hot.. look at his broad chest, I could just lay my head on it for ages" the other finally spoke off

I asked for notes and she let me know the devastating news. “What? You mean there's no way to get notes?” I asked. She shook her head, “Sadly. Elites resume first, then people who paid to get in and then scholarship students.” She sighed. “I don't even have all the notes. I missed two weeks worth of class, and you missed…” “One month.” I completed with a scoff of disbelief. This was ridiculous. “What about the teachers? Can't we get notes from them?” She laughed bittterly. “Oh please, the teachers are puppets. They only care about the elites anyway. Only few of them are different. One might get lucky enough to meet them.” She explained.

he said and vanished down the next hall without looking back to make sure I followed him. I trailed along behind him, as I wasn't going to walk the last bit alone. When we reached the doorway of the classroom, Eli stopped. He looked over my shoulder, and his lips closed in a hasty "snap" that made my stomach fall. I didn't have to look to know who was standing behind me. I took my seat quietly without looking around. Eyes were heavier when you looked back at them, and I'd already been burdened enough on my shoulders. The room was warmer than the hall, the heat of too many bodies mixed with the smell of pencil shavings and dry markers. The teacher was still gathering her belongings, which lef

The classroom was silent, the only sound the soft rustling of papers and the creaking of chairs. Pearl's bright blue eyes sparkled with curiosity as she listened to Mr. Daniel's explanation. Her slender, delicate features were set in a thoughtful expression, her long, curly brown hair cascading down her back like a rich, chestnut waterfall. She was the only one in the class who seemed to sense the underlying tension in Mr. Daniel's words, her eyes narrowing slightly as she picked up on the hint of deception.

Brent says as he hurries into the classroom. The rest of the class walks in, and Hannah gives me a nudge. "That was painful," she whispers with a grin. "So painful," I agree with her. We trail behind the rest of the class, naturally being the last ones to enter. "Norali. Always a pleasure," Jace says loudly, leaning against the wall with a casual stance. "Likewise, Mr. Adkins," I reply, looking up at him. And then he winks at me.

Chapter Four: The Boy From the Past Elara’s POV I hated being late. Mira and I stood just outside the classroom door, our hearts thumping fast. We could hear the professor already talking. I looked at her. She looked at me. “Are you ready?” she whispered. “No,” I muttered, holding my books tighter, “but let’s just do it.” We quietly pushed the door open. The classroom was packed—every seat taken. Heads turned. The professor frowned, his sharp eyes narrowing behind round glasses.

We'd only just arrived at the administrative building when I ran into Tanya Hall, one of my classmates. The moment she spotted me, her eyes flashed with jealousy and derision. "Hmph! Don't think you can do whatever you want just because you've got someone backing you up, Calista! Even though Mr. Abbott and Mr. Lane have been fired, we're still going to fight this to the very end!"

I asked “Apparently the professor teaching this course is super hot, more like a demigod. In fact, I heard some girls boycott their major classes just for this one. Rumours have that some of the guys too want to have their own share of his beauty.” “That's…unbelievable,” I said in surprise but Eliza was no longer listening, we had gotten to the lecture hall successfully. All we had to do was find our way to class 4D, where the class would be held. We found the class without any stress because it was the only hall which had noise coming from it.

The underwear is gone and I can still smell him on my fingers when I brush my teeth, and I’m thinking about golden eyes and growling walls and stolen fabric while I walk into Advanced Literature ten minutes early like the overachieving tragedy that I am. The classroom is a small amphitheater – tiered seating, the kind of room that smells like old paper and academic self-importance – and I take a seat in the third row and open my textbook and tell myself that this is a class about literature and nothing else.