Jon watched the class as they pulled out their books. There were faces that he recognized but none recognized him. Sarah, James, Biff, and his sister Zoe. Even Karyn didn’t recognize him, she just watched on with mild interest.
He found that he knew the book they were pulling out quite well and in fact, he knew everything about the class he was about to teach. Perhaps it was another mental change caused by the clothing. Why, he could not figure it out. Not that he had time to at the moment.
He turned away from the class, grabbed a marker and started scrawling his name out on the whiteboard. “Hello class, my name is Jon Gibso-”
There was a flash like the stone-turned necklace would make. She still faced away from the class and she was still writing her name and-
“-my name is Jessica Phuker but you can call me-”
No, Zoe thought, that was too cheesy. Mhm, how about-
Another flash and another stutter. She still faced away from the class and she was still writing her name and-
“-ame is Jasmine Al Tits and-”
Ugh.It was still too cheesy. Zoe could fix this. Maybe something more sexy like-
Another flash this time and she was writing and saying, “My name is Juliette Deveraux but you can call me-”
Another flash and she was speaking differently. With an accent-
“-Jules or Ms. Deveraux or just Ms. D.”
That wasn't her name she could have sworn her name was Jon Gibson. And the accent. It was French. A hand rose and Juliette went to answer but there was another flash and she was saying in a thick sultry alto and she was saying, “And if you were wondering, yes, I was born in France”
BORN IN FRANCE! And the flashes! Someone had another stone. It had to be. And they were changing her. They had to be in this classroom. She would have to keep her eye out. She quickly schooled her face back to normal. She couldn’t let them know that she knew.
The boys in the class seemed to be a bit more interested in her now. When she was a boy she didn’t really have a thing for French women but she knew it was a thing. Even Kayn seemed to be a bit more interested.
Not everyone though. Sarah for example had her hands in her lap as she looked down. Was she typing on her phone? Something told her that she shouldn’t press it. These students needed to respect her, not hate her. Best to say something after class. She had a class to teach.
“Now if someone could start us out reading from 156,” Jules spoke confidently in that accent that she wasn’t sure she liked.
