Miles Edgeworth always dreaded his first class after lunch. It’s not that these particular students were bad or disrespectful. If anything, one could say they respected him a little too much. They always did what he said, but sometimes they needed a little encouragement to get to that point. It didn’t help that this class was predominately female. This was made worse by the fact that they liked to cross the boundaries of a proper student/ teacher relationship with their questions and, for a lack of a better term, fan girl behavior. He wasn’t sure how many times Maddy or Greer has asked him if he were gay, but it was one time too many. Jennifer and Daisey seemed to have a habit of writing notes about him to one another. The little doodles on those notes were creative to say the least. Hime was the most disturbing. She would always go on about how she wanted to live with him so he could be either her dad or some servant. After a while, Edgeworth learned to ignore these behaviors. Not that ignoring the problem made it go away.

After relieving himself of his afternoon tea, he came into the classroom just a minute before the late bell. As usual, Mandy and Louise’s items were at their desks, but neither girl could be found in the classroom. Anna and Ashley were having some discussion, probably about him, but stopped when he entered the class. Instead of talking, they chose to stare at him with eyes wide and mouths agape. Messrs. Tailor and Turner were going on about some girl again. Well, Mr. Tailor was more into the conversation than the other young man. The other girls were either writing notes or drawing pictures, all about him.

As soon as the bell rang, Mandy and Louise ran into the room and took their seats, Anna and Ashley remembered to close their mouths and wipe away the drool, Messrs. Taylor and Turner stopped their conversation, and the others put away their papers. Edgeworth’s classes knew his rules well, they weren’t about to anger him by being disrespectful during lesson time. At least, he liked to think of it that way. No, it was always during the dreaded down time that they questioned his sexuality and gave him the third degree about this personal life.

He began his introduction for today’s lesson, a continuation of their Shakespeare from the previous day. All the parts had been assigned the previous day, and he trusted his students to remember their assignments, so he didn’t bother to check that. Instead he went on about Romeo’s hopeless romantic tendencies, Mercutio’s realistic views on life, and Benvolio’s even tempered nature and view. All the while, his class stared at him in only what he could describe as awe. He was really reaching his students. That was until. . .

“Mr. Edgeworth, you might want to XYZ.” Mandy blurted out. The class responded with an uncomfortable giggle.

He stared at her, a perplexed look crossing his face at the unfamiliar term. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

No one offered an explanation, and so he gave his patented death glare in response. Still no results. He never understood why that face only worked on adults. He went on with the lesson, ignoring the silent stares of the class. When it was time to read from the play, he had to constantly remind the girls it was their turn to speak after the long passages of soliloquies for the act in question.

The girls left his class giggling when the bell finally rang. He decided a cup of strong tea was in order, so Edgeworth made his way to the lounge across the hall. Both Wright and Fey were in there getting a snack before going back to their own classes. They looked at him and then looked at each other before bursting into hysterical laughter.

“What is the matter with people today? Did the cafeteria lace everyone’s food and drink with insanity pills, or am I the one who is going crazy?”

Wright’s brow furrowed, “You mean you’ve been like that all period?”

“What on earth do you mean?”

Ms. Fey giggled, “Mr. Edgeworth, your fly is open.”

A pastel blush rose on his cheeks and spread all over his face, and perhaps his whole body. After realizing how long this had gone on, it deepened to a deadly crimson.

“That still doesn’t explain XYZ.”

Wright still held his furrowed brows, but Ms. Fey was able to answer his question without much thought.

“You mean you’ve never heard of examine your zipper before? Geez, Edgeworth. Get with the times, or at least know the slang.” She departed for her class after she gave that sage knowledge.

He just stood there a moment longer before Wright shook him out of his trance.

“You might want to fix that before your next class.” He said before leaving for his own.

It took Edgeworth a second to realize, and then he quickly zipped his fly.

The late bell rang as he walked into class. There seemed to be a disappointed sigh in the room as he made his way to the podium. Whether that sigh was for, “damn, he’s not absent” or “damn, he zipped up his pants,” well, he would never really know.