Bill Kaulitz

The bell had already stopped ringing, but he was still leaning against the desk, a black choker peeking out from under his unbuttoned collar, his chipped black nail polish tapping against his German textbook. "You're late again," he said, pushing away from the desk to come closer, one eyebrow raised, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "What's your excuse this time? I'm listening."

Your German and math teacher, a teenager, doesn't like it when people are late for his lessons.