you said you knew this was wrong,, [reagan!]

[austin isaiah graham]

I know that words aren't enough,

[/i][/color]
but you're better than this.[/color][/font]
--------------------[/center]

[/i][/color]

Austin leaned back in his chair, discreetly popping one or two painkillers of the Tylenol variety (even when his doctors had insisted he was fully entitled to more powerful brands such as Vicodin, the certified drug made him adamantly refuse) into his mouth, unscrewing the cap of a water bottle and taking a long sip. Blimey, my back.[/color] Although the stitches were long gone and the scars faint and still somewhat raised somehow, occasionally the old injury ached, making the reasonably young teacher feel much older than need be, considering it was usually the elder that moaned and groaned over back problems. At the beginning of class, he had allowed the class to have the majority of the class time to read the assigned book, slyly commenting that “I was seventeen once, too, and don’t think I’m not aware of the existence of Sparknotes” [/color]before retreating back to his desk in the corner of the classroom. And although seventeen was eleven years into the past, Austin, or rather, Mr. Graham (preferably Graham, if he was being truly honest: Mr. Graham sounded way formal and way too reminiscent of overeager fans) had been a popular favorite with the younger generation, oftentimes calling the old classics of literature ‘rubbish’ and assigning different curriculum. Of course, his colleagues had, in the first couple years of his job, questioning his teaching style, but test scores soared and proved him, slightly smug at it, completely validated. So whether or not they liked it, they had to admit, however grudgingly, whatever he was doing in the classroom was working, both in favor of the student’s opinion of him, and their grades. A win win combination.


Part of the questioning and whispers, had not all together been sourced from the fact he was a music icon of the past, but his overly casual way of addressing his students also. For all intents and purposes, and despite the giggled conspiracies by the students, it was not a cocky attempt to upstage the formally dressed and stiff upper lipped other teachers on campus. Honestly? Austin was just more comfortable in jeans and modest clothes that let him breathe, rather than be confined in a stuffy coat for seven hours a day. But hey, maybe it was his lip ring that pissed them off, too, or the fact he still had growing hair. With that amused thought, Austin nearly jumped off his seat with a start, refraining from the wince his back was threatening bodily mutiny for. Running a hand through his hair, he glanced toward the clock on the wall above the door: twenty more minutes until the bell rang for lunch, and he forcibly stopped himself from groaning at the fact he forgot to pack something to eat this morning. And the idea of venturing into the quad to be mauled by star struck freshmen not used to a ‘rock star’ (the term used loosely, in jest he preferred to call himself a has been more than anything else) on campus, and all for some soggy bun intertwined with some mystery meat that he dare not question the mystery of to begin with. You Americans and your processed foods. He cleared his throat audibly, waiting until eyes were focused on him. “For extra credit, would someone tell me,” [/color]he began, beginning to smile as several hands shot up before he had finished the question, “what does Q mean by: ‘Maybe Margo felt comfortable there because Margo the person lived like that all the time: in an abandoned room with blocked-out windows, the only light pouring in through holes in the roof’?”[/color]

He paused and chose several students to give answers, circling the classroom casually as every once in a while he would probe a quieter student into giving an opinion; in his experience, there were two types of people that never offered to answer a question in class: those that don’t know the answer, and those that just need the encouragement to. Although, as a test to his theory, one person, a girl, that had clearly defied both those types, and despite the slight furrowing of a brow, Austin chose not to comment, instead smoothing out his expression and looking almost a decade younger as he laughed at the boy who was vehemently insisting it was foreshadowing that later in the book, the two would most certainly engage in intercourse, because ‘ a guy stuck on a girl that long has to be a good lay.’ It didn’t quite reach his eyes, however, the usually warm brown swirling with a gentle puzzlement at the odd tug in his stomach: that was really weird. But before he had time to further contemplate such, the bell resonated through the class and the rest of the school, and students scurried to put their books in their bags and exit to lunch break. Austin hung back, tucking his hands inside the pockets of his jeans.

“Reagan? I need to see you after class.”[/color][/size]
[/ul]

--------------------

APPAREL cliiick.
MUSIC save your heart - mayday parade
WITH reagan palmer.
SETTING forks hs, mr. graham's room :3
NOTES :]

[reagan faith palmer]

found a demon in my safest haven
seems like its getting harder to believe in anything

[/i]

Shifting her weight in her seat, she could feel her eyes wandering, from a boy that kept scribbling things down in the copy of the book he had, to the girl who couldn’t keep her eyes off of Mr. Graham’s penis area, and then back out the window. At the second shift Reagan could feel her body cringe and the memories of the night before went through her mind, and the burn that now rested on the inside of her right side sent a shot of pain through her. The hair straightener was something that Reagan told herself she needed to avoid at all costs now, because clearly it was one of those things that provided her parents with several good ideas on how to discipline their child. But this was Reagan’s secret, and it was for no one else to know, and so to be thinking about that, to even show a sign of weakness like that was not good. Bringing herself out from her thoughts as she then heard the Aussie former rock star of a teacher then speak up, something about sparknotes and she couldn’t help but cover her grin a bit, herself being one of those people who often used sparknotes due to lack of time. Keeping herself busy with after school activities are both my greatest downfall, and one of her best escapes that Reagan could possibly have. Well, minus the whole lack of being able to do homework and then having to use sites such as sparknotes in order to get away with claiming to have done it.

One and two two and three... counting off the beats in her head to the new routine that she had to memorize; Reagan mentally slapped herself across the face in order to bring herself back out of her own little world. Chewing the bottom of her lip she knew that not paying nearly as much attention in class that day would have to come back to bite her in the ass. Especially since Mr. Graham seemed to always be watching somebody at some point in order to make sure they were doing what they were supposed to be doing, and he always seemed to know when someone else was off in their own little world, instead of in his classroom. Which was probably one of those reasons as to why she all of the sudden heard her name being said and she couldn’t help but look towards him, silently cursing under her breath as she then came to watch as the other students around her slowly came to exit the room. One of her friends looking back to her, a sort of wide grin and a wink, in one of those playful manners that seemed to be shared amongst many girls. Especially when they thought that a guy was hot, and that one of their friends were about to get it on with them, but at the thought of her actually doing something like that with Mr. Graham, that was not on the top of Reagan’s to do list. Okay, just take one nice large breath and everything should be perfectly fine. It’s not like you’re failing the class or anything like that. removing her bangs from her face for a second as she tried to buy herself at least some time before she would have to go up there. Leaning over, Reagan had to keep herself from cringing as another one of those sharp pains came crawling down her injured side. Letting that breath out as she lifted up the bag and made her way over to the desk where the older male sat.

Once there Reagan felt herself take up her own form of fiditing by straightening out her shirt and jeans, “You wanted to see me sir?” great, clearly this had been the day for her to space off and end up getting caught because of it. Why couldn’t there at least be a certain amount of days that each person had that they could get away with it, that they wouldn’t have to spend this typically awkward one on one time with their teacher. Besides, Reagan had some math homework that she hadn’t been able to finish the night before, and she didn’t have the time to sit around here and have a conversation with him. Even if over the last couple of months Reagan had come to find that Mr. Graham, was definitely someone who knew how to hold a half decent conversation. Holding a way about himself that still asserted that authoritative side to him that reminded students that he was indeed their teacher, but at the same time he wasn’t completely above them. Perhaps that was one of those reasons as to why so many people seemed to like him so much, Reagan knew that was her reason, of course this wasn’t why she was standing here, right in front of him now, with these weird seconds ticking by that she could be using.

“So what's up, Mr. Graham?” deciding to speak up once more, as she looking towards the other.
[/blockquote][/size]

[austin isaiah graham]

I know that words aren't enough,

[/i][/color]
but you're better than this.[/color][/font]
--------------------[/center]

[/i][/color] It was one thing that he had noticed she was unusually quiet today in class, and that had only bought him so much inquiry before he just came off as outright nosy. And while normally Austin wouldn’t have really cared how he came off to his students (and usually that very attitude had deemed him ‘cool’ in the average pretentious kid’s handbook), he found himself minding the line so he didn’t seem so overbearing to her, despite the fact something, something in his gut told him he wouldn’t be exactly wrong to be. But intuition had never really been much of a help to him in the past, and maybe if it hadn’t been known to fly over his head in the most important of circumstances (ie, when he agreed to tour with Insomnia’s Refuge in the first place), he would have paid more attention to it, but be that as it may, it didn’t, and Austin found himself brushing away the odd feelings of knowing without knowing that something was off concerning the senior girl. Besides, there was a certain degree of awkwardness if he mentioned that he had noticed that her movements were slight and uncomfortable, and for the briefest of seconds in the fifty minute class, he could have sworn he saw her wince at least once. His eyes narrowed fractionally at the sight of her stalling to get up and speak to him, though unlike a regular student in trouble, it seemed to not be entirely of her doing. The gut feeling pulled at his insides again.

However, such thoughts temporarily left his behind at her addressing him, and Austin found himself grimacing, half comically and on purpose, half truly in habit. “Well, first, I’m not that old, so you can drop the ‘sir’,” [/color]he started, making a face as if the idea was honestly repulsive, and hey, it actually really was; he shifted his expression into a relaxed smile seconds later, “Relax, you’re not in trouble.” [/color]So many times that was the automatic thought that had raced through a student’s head as soon as a teacher requested to speak with them, even if it was absurd and they hadn’t done anything wrong, and Austin didn’t seem to like to toy with the idea of making his students purposely nervous for any degree of time longer than need be, really. He paused, and flipped through a stack of papers on his desk – a weighted pile of ungraded quizzes, the bane of any teacher’s existence. I’ll get the teacher’s aide to do it, he reasoned, it was only fair considering the TA’s that had applied to be aide oftentimes only did it out of desire to stare at him in the middle of class. Might as well give them work while they were gawking, make themselves useful for a change. Tossing the clipped stack of papers away, Austin sighed, and moved to sit on the edge of his desk, tilting his head at Reagan as if to say, hey, I don’t like this part of the job description any more than you do. [/color]And he really didn’t, this was almost cruelly uneasy for both parties involved, but necessary all the same: it was his responsibility to see to it that his kids’ personal and academic growth grew as best as he saw fit. “Although,” [/color]Austin began again, meeting Reagan’s eyes to assess if there would be any note of false excuses there, “I wanted to know why you didn’t participate in the class discussion today.”[/color]

Granted, Austin might as well lead her to the giant loophole he presented himself with, as the possibilities of excuses were endless: her mind was on a test she was to have later that day, she hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, she was worried about a game that week (for an even briefer moment than his analysis of intuition, he vaguely wondered why he noticed she did sports), whatever, it stretched on for miles and he was sure that he and Reagan both saw that. “A real reason, please, Reagan,”[/color] he added as an afterthought. Besides, it wasn’t as if Reagan was that loudmouth in class that clearly missed the second grade lesson on raising their hand before speaking, either, so maybe it wasn’t all that unusual behavior than he made it seem. And maybe, you old hack, you’re thinking about this too much. After all, Reagan was just a kid, one girl out of the rough two to three hundred kids he was responsible for day by day, and damned he was to be if he was personally accounted for the happiness of every single one. It was one of the first lessons of becoming a teacher: not everyone was a success story, but reaching a handful, or even one? That was a miracle in the making. And Reagan might have hardly been a miracle or some stupid Lifetime script where mentoring and inspiration fell hand in hand, but Austin felt compelled to reach out anyway. For that funny little feeling in his stomach that insisted he should.[/size][/ul]

[reagan faith palmer]

found a demon in my safest haven
seems like its getting harder to believe in anything

[/i]

shit. Had she given something away? Had he been looking at her at one of those times where she had let down that guard she had been so careful to build up? Whatever that may or may not have been seen, something was definitely there behind those eyes of his. By the way that Austin held himself when he finally saw Reagan come over to where he was, and Reagan was trying to find a way for her to get out of here, for her to leave before there were any questions asked. Especially since Reagan knew that she wouldn’t be able to lie to him, not really anyway, she had never been able to place why she was unable to really lie to him, but she couldn’t. She felt like some how he would be able to find that thing and pick at it until the truth would come out, until he would have been able to pick through a number of different layers and lies that Reagan had come to build up over the years. Oh! She could always tell him that she needed to go and take some medicine, that she had to take those damned pills everyday at a certain time other wise it would completely fuck herself over later. Of course, that lie would only get her away for so long, and then she would have to see him again the next day for class, and it wasn’t like she could avoid him forever. And Reagan couldn’t risk him doing one of those stupid teacher visits that had happened to her several times before when Reagan hadn’t been careful enough. But then he chose to speak up once more, and a soft smile came to her features at the first comment that came from Austin. Ah, so he had the ability to make those witty comments of his even outside the audience of a class.

“Oh of course you’re not. They leave the spots for the old teachers in math and science,” she said, her own little crack at a joke, a way of easing the tension. A way of trying to keep herself calm and to keep her mind from wandering from one suspicion to another, just as it had been doing before. Before Reagan could really say she realized, a sigh of relief had come from her when she had heard that she wasn’t in trouble. Perhaps it was an overall teenaged thing for a person with their teacher to be worried about something they could have possibly done. And yet, she knew that she had done nothing wrong, but by the way that he held himself at the time, she could tell that at least something would be coming her way. Whether it be some sort of weird question, or if it be something else completely, like some sort of weird acusation of some other sort. Which actually had happened to Reagan once or twice before, especially when it came to her baking class. Which might have been seen as odd to anyone not understanding the reason for someone to be called a cheater in the class where you just bake things. But until one has actually taken the class, where the teacher had gone completely bonkers and thought that a food that tasted way to similar was obviously the person who cheated, or if it tasted better than her own. Though this time Reagan brought herself from her thoughts once more, and looked back to Austin for a moment when she heard the last comments being said and she shook her head a bit, pushing her hair back. “Ahhh, and right there is the catch, that although always leads to the second part.” And then she got her answer, the question that he ha wanted to ask her, and she felt herself bit the bottom of her lip. shit, here came the problem where she had the lack of ability to actually lie to this guy.

A million things ran through her head, answers that she could give him without the worry of something else coming right out from it. A way that she would be able to keep the things she wanted hidden away, hidden, but then he had to go a head and say that he wanted a real answer. Not some bullshit reason that just some any teenager would give a teacher in order to get out of whatever might be the reason the teacher even needed to talk to the person in the first place. Hell, maybe she could get away with saying that she had been out partying all night, celebrating the opening of the soccer season and the end of the late summer soft ball team. But even then that was basically stretching the line of truth and lies a bit to far for even herself, again Reagan found herself biting the bottom of her lip, “I uh…” oh come on girl, you’ve come up with reasons and excuses for things like this must faster than this. “I had to think about this physical…for soccer, you know how the couch here can be, gotta stay up to date with this sort of stuff.”[/b] Ugh, bull shit, she knew that, and some how she thought that he would be able to point this little factor out as well. [/blockquote][/size]

[austin isaiah graham]

I know that words aren't enough,

[/i][/color]
but you're better than this.[/color][/font]
--------------------[/center]

[/b][/color]he emphasized the ridiculous term, the barest of smirks touching his lips as he noted her sigh of relief as soon as he remarked she wasn’t like, being assigned detention for a month or anything. “Please feel inclined to agree before I continue my slang and start wearing neon beanies and colored jeans.” [/color]Honestly, the trends these days – some kids might as well have tied fluorescent tape to their bodies and have that suffice, considering everything on the front displays of stores these days either emphasized gang violence or revealing strips of vibrant cloth meant to be construed as actual articles of clothing. And what the hell was with those deeper than the crevices of hell v-necks that plunged so far down they nearly reached midriff? Even in his touring days, Austin would have hardly bothered to consider himself a fashion forward type of guy, but for the love of all that was holy, some of the trends in these days… “Actually, you don’t need to agree. I’d be setting myself for a world of hurt,”[/color] he added as an afterthought, grimacing.

He raised his hand to silence Reagan at her remark, rolling his eyes lightly to let her know she wasn’t be chastised. “Glad to see you were listening to my lesson on conjunctions,”[/color] Austin mused wryly, drumming his fingers along his desk as he waited and looked curiously as she stumbled over a reasonable excuse to give. His head cocked to the side as he waited, only raising his eyebrows fractionally as she stalled. Sometimes, being an authority figure played in his favor, and although anyone who had even stepped foot into his classroom for five minutes would have understood he taught the class on a level as equals, there was no forgetting what his position was, and that meant, bingo: students generally had a hard time lying to teachers, especially those who weren’t as well-aged. And even if Austin hadn’t lived in the public eye of mass media and entertainment, going through swarms of crowds that professed their undying love for him when instead they really just wanted fifteen minutes of fame, even if all that hadn’t taught him how to look into someone’s body language and speech and tell if they were lying, his few years in teaching would have taught him such anyhow. Wherever he went, left and right, Monday or Friday, there were endless white lies being professed from both boy and girl’s mouths about why they didn’t do their homework, why they weren’t ready for a presentation, or scored poorly on a test. In a few years, Austin was assured he had heard every lame excuse in the book, and had even commended a student or two on the more outrageous tales that would have, ironically, made them pass a paper with flying colors had they given half as much effort in their actual assignment than the fables they wove.

Be that as it may, Reagan’s excuse was neither extraordinary or different from the many he had heard of before, and while he paused for a lengthy moment to decide how to respond, he gave no indication on whether he believed her or not. “I see.” [/color]Calling her out on the lie was too confrontational for his taste, and Austin, for one, didn’t believe in provocation in getting the truth out of the very kids he was supposed to mentor, not preach at. And maybe that could have been considered a bad thing, letting them ‘off the hook’, but Austin? Well, he figured the truth always came out eventually, and trying to speed up the process could very well damage any friendliness factor he established with the student body thus far. Besides, it’s not like she’s in danger. The disconcerting thought shook him up somewhat inside, though just as quickly he brushed it off. “Can’t say I was an athlete myself in high school,” [/color]he shrugged; it came with the quota of being a Guardian that he was naturally strong… yet never once desired the playing field; plus, getting mixed up in the music industry didn't give much opportunity to delve in other endeavors, “But Reagan…” [/color]Austin seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking away briefly before meeting her eyes. “You know I’m here if you need anything.” [/color]It was, after all, in the job description.

So why was he focusing on just her?[/size][/ul]