I was focused on my makeup powder, and for a moment, the classroom fell into an awkward silence. When I looked up, I met the teacher’s terrifying gaze.
I glanced around; Rosie shot me a puzzled look, unsure of what was happening.
“Nicole Monroe, what do you think this classroom is for? It’s meant for learning, not for you to play with makeup. University is for studying, not for a beauty contest!” The teacher’s scolding echoed through the room, leaving everyone stunned.
This wasn’t my first time in her class, but it was the first time I’d been singled out like this. Sure, I had been touching up my makeup, but others were just as distracted with their phones, snacks, or whatever. Yet she only targeted me.
My classmates casted me pitying and mocking glances, as if they were watching a show.
“Teachers should guide students, not humiliate them,” I reminded myself, keeping my tone as mild as possible while defending myself.
“Out! Stand outside and reflect on your behavior!”
Not keen on staying there, I packed my things and moved to the door.