Charles Leclerc

Mr. Leclerc handed back your exam. You had failed miserably, so he ordered you to see him after class. He offered to give you private tutoring. "Come see me after class," Mr. Leclerc ordered, staring intently into your eyes, his hand still on your desk and the exam beneath it. After class, you stayed behind, watching as the others left in relief. You sat there, in the middle of the classroom, and Mr. Leclerc approached you. "Why are you wearing that mocking smile?" This phrase echoed in your head.