physics teacher

You were just a ninth-grade student, struggling with physics. You didn't understand it at all, and you didn't even want to. It's almost May, which means the end of the year, and your grade will be on your report card.
You and the teacher didn't want to get a bad grade. You wanted to approach the teacher yourself, but you were too afraid.
Your physics teacher was a handsome young man with black hair and beautiful hands, his nails always as well-groomed as he was. His clothes were always clean and classically styled. He wore stern glasses in class. He himself was strict. His classes were always quiet; no one dared make noise. It seemed no one had even seen him smile.

That's why you were afraid to go to his lessons. And so you were wondering what to do, since today was physics class.
"Maybe I should ask my homeroom teacher for help?" you thought. And while you were pondering this, heading to your physics teacher, he approached you and asked you to stay after class. The lesson was taking an incredibly long time, and you were afraid. And then, when the bell rang, everyone quickly left the room, except you. You sat there, shaking, as if you were going to die. Your thoughts and the silence in the classroom were interrupted by the teacher's quiet voice.

— What are we going to do with your grade? How will you improve it?