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Jack was bored out of his mind. He wanted to get a higher education, truely. Despite how people saw him, he was responsible enough to care about where his future went. He would have had no problem training in a labor job instead of the academic bullshit, but unfortunately, Jack had a passion, and that passion was kids. And in order to become a teacher, he had to get a higher education.
He did want to. He absolutely did want to get a higher education. That resolve was a little bit challenged though, by literally every class he had. Every professor just, rubbed him the wrong way. His biology professor was hot-headed and already hated Jack because of one prank he pulled a week before classes started. It was two weeks into the semester already, and the man still managed to mention it at least once every day Jack saw him. It was almost impressive.
His history teacher, who he's pretty sure was supposed to be covering a specific part of history, tended to give lectures on the personal lives of random dead people, creepily enough, usually kids. She really liked the kid part of biographies and it was obvious. Jack thought it was cool, sure, to learn about how people lived, but he also knew that specific information was probably not going to be on any exams.
His engineering teacher was just too much. That was it. Just, too much.
The only redeemable one was his psych teacher, but that man usually just fell asleep at his desk and let his students take notes from videos he'd recorded of himself years ago. It was clever, Jack would give him that, but also just made Jack want to conk out at his own desk.
It was all just, painstaking. So, when he woke up the day he was scheduled to do a class that was actually outside of the college curriculum (and thus free from mandated exams and the like) he was already out the door twenty minutes before he actually had to leave.
The class was probably going to serve as his lifeline for the year. It was a contemporary art class, and Jack figured, even if the teacher was horribly dull, or an asshole, or anything else, at least he'd get to use his hands and create.
He arrived before the teacher did, before anyone did, and really wasn't supposed to be in the building, but he was an amazing lockpick and they probably wouldn't yell at him for breaking in to come to class early. He got to take the time to wander the room and check everything out. It took a considerable amount of restraint not to set a prank trap, but he really didn't want to get in trouble for breaking in, so he couldn't push it.
The buckets of paint were really tempting though.
Jack ended up so absorbed in his exploration that when the door opened and he heard a low voice speak quietly, "I could have sworn-" behind him, he jumped and nearly crashed into a rack of art supplies. He looked up to see a tall man staring back at him, evidently just as shocked as Jack was, only his shock was justified.
Jack, after making sure the rack was okay, slipped his hands into his pocket and grinned as innocently as he could. Judging by the way the man narrowed his eyes, he failed. Stepping further into the room, the man slowly shut the door behind him, making a bit of fear bloom in Jack's chest.
"Uh, hey. You're Mr. Pitchiner, right?"
The teacher studied Jack, before straightening and holding his hands elegantly behind his back. Even across the room he somehow managed to make Jack feel like he was being loomed over. "I am. And you're Jack Frost."
Jack chuckled, a hint of his nervousness coming through, "How do you know who I am?"
"Jack." The man, who Jack decided he was going to call Pitch because Pitchiner was too much, stated his name like the answer should be obvious, "Of course I know who you are. Your reputation precedes you. You make a mess wherever you go."
Jack looked to the side as he considered that, before shrugging with a conceding nod, "Yeah, just about."
Pitch looked at him with a flash of surprise, apparently having expected a different reaction, but Jack felt he'd passed some test when Pitch gained an almost pleased looking grin. He began a slow stalk across the room toward Jack. Jack's initial reaction was the urge to back up - Pitch had such an easy intimidation about him - but he decided he wasn't going to let it get to him, and so instead just raised his chin, not losing his cocky grin, sending a bit of a challenging look.
Pitch's grin only grew, "Well, Jack," he stopped just before Jack, "I suppose I look forward to the year then, I trust you'll keep things, interesting."
"Interesting is one way to put it."
"Oh? And what are the other ways?" Pitch raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"I mean, fun is my favorite way to put it, but it's also been called chaotic, destructive, entertaining, disastrous, tumultuous that one time." The list carried a string of unrepentant pride.
"Ah. What fun." Jack eyed Pitch, unsure how someone could make something sound both sarcastic and genuine at the same time.
"And how do you keep things Pitch?"
Pitch raised his eyebrow at the nickname, "Refrain from calling me that in front of other students."
"Oh?" Jack's own eyebrows raised, "So alone it's a different story?"
Pitch's teeth showed through his grin, a mischievousness there that made Jack suddenly view Pitch a little different then just a teacher. "I suppose we'll see. You asked how I keep things?" He leaned forward, voice dropping, "As frightening as I can."
Jack brightened with interest, "Frightening?" he laughed as Pitch straightened, "I think I'll be the judge of that."
"Unafraid?"
"Of you."
Pitch luckily, didn't seem offended in the slightest, still evidently thrilled with the conversation, "I guess I'll have to fix that then, won't I?"
"I look forward to it."
"So eager to be afraid?"
"Come on now Pitch, what's fun without a touch of fear."
Pitch seemed to light up at that statement, and opened his mouth to respond but they were both startled by the door opening again, another student walking in. She paused as she saw them, glanced between them, and then chose to pretend she didn't see anything and simply sat down while setting her stuff out on a table.
Pitch looked back at Jack, a promising smile on his lips. He gestured to the tables for Jack to also go sit, "Welcome to class, Jack."
Jack thrilled at the strange emphasis put on his name as he passed by Pitch. If he wasn't sure before, he was certain now.
This class was definitely going to be the highlight of his year.