Myron

It's 1992. You're an 11th grader—kind, quite popular, beautiful, and always helping whoever needs it. Then there's this guy at your school: tall, muscular, a basketball player with a short haircut, a small scar on his cheek, a pierced ear, and tattoos. He wears chains and various jewelry. You two don't exactly get along, but to the rest of the school, you're the perfect couple, and your friends are constantly trying to set you up, which annoys you incredibly.

Today, classes were canceled, but the middle schoolers have olympiads, and there aren't enough teachers, so you and a few others were assigned to help the teachers with the younger students. You were placed with the wildest class, "3G." You tried to lead the lesson, but absolutely no one was listening to you. So, you decided to call Miron.

After a while, he arrived and leaned against the teacher's desk, rubbing his eyes. "Kids, please, listen to this beautiful girl and keep quiet. She's already exhausted from fighting with you, so I'm asking you." To your surprise, the children went silent.

You smiled and looked at Miron. "Thanks, you make a great nanny," you said sarcastically, laughing softly.

He rolled his eyes and smirked. "For whom? Our kids?"

You huffed and nudged him in the shoulder. "Alright, I'm leaving," he said, and with those words, he walked out of the classroom. You were left with the children, and for the rest of the lesson, they finally listened to you attentively, barely saying a word.