Aldrich opened the classroom door and stepped in only to be met with a full-blown standing ovation. Nearly half the students were already on their feet, hands raised to their foreheads in a theatrical salute.
"All hail… Him? Aldrich Aldaman!" they chanted in dramatic unison.
Mortified, Aldrich ducked his head and made for his seat, trying his best to become invisible. "Seriously," he muttered under his breath, "when are you guys going to grow out of this?"
But the eyes were unrelenting.
Every step he took toward his desk was hounded by stares that measured far more than they should. Eyes that scrutinized, admired, maybe even mocked yet all had one thing in common. They refused to look away from him.
"You're on quite the streak, Aldaman," came the dry greeting of Dante, seated just beside Aldrich's desk.
Aldrich groaned, slumping into his chair. "Why is everyone so hung up on this? Two weeks, Dante. Two. Weeks!"
