Chapter 3 - Calculated

"Do you think that it's funny, embarrassing your teacher like that?" my tight-lipped English teacher asked after class. Everyone had run out of the room, laughing away at meaningless troubles and gossips, all while I was kept back for doing what she had asked me to do.

This isn't my first rodeo with a teacher who believes that it is my life's purpose to embarrass them in front of a bunch of children who have better things to do than care about their teacher's general life. If you aren't male and not hot, you have nothing to worry about.

I remained silent as I always did, letting them vent before apologising once. I'd either get a detention or get sent to the Principal's office, where he'd give me the exact same lecture over and over again about virtues and compassion.

I have to stop myself from laughing every time. Who is he to lecture me on virtue and compassion? He's the crook scamming people and paying someone off to keep quiet. Oh well, it's not like it doesn't benefit me in any way. I need the money and he's my best bet to get it.

To avoid attention, I dress up in thrift store clothes and I work weekends at a busy café in the suburbs. The normal lifestyle of a poor girl in New York, simply trying to pay rent. He never suspected me, and he never will. I made sure of that.

"Are you ignoring me now?" she snapped, almost slamming her fist against the desk. I didn't flinch and didn't make eye contact. I simply made myself look pitiful until she smirked.

"Right. What else would I expect from someone like you. At least you know your place." Marion Thatch, my English teacher, is currently in a relationship with the head of the Chemistry department, Todd Dallas. They are both married, and both have children. I told you that this school was fun, didn't I?

In the end, I got off the hook with a verbal warning and an insult, which happened to ruin my mood for the rest of the day. Digging into my pocket, producing a chocolate lollipop, I stuck it into my mouth before walking to the vending machine to get myself something to eat.

The vending machine was for the cleaning staff, but there was no rules stating that I wasn't allowed to use it myself. Slotting the coins into the machine, I sighed when one didn't come through. Rubbing it against the ground before trying again, it finally worked and I pushed to get myself a chocolate bar.

This must seem so boring, right? I go to class, go home, study, sleep, and repeat. That's it. Well, apart from-

"There you are, Mooney." Mooney is the charming nickname that my fellow class comrades gave me, to my displeasure. I try not to react to it, but I'm starting to think that they actually forgot my actual name.

"What's up." I spoke out, my sleep-deprived eyes focusing on their leader. Remember Blaise Trotterton? Perhaps the 'Piggy' girl might jog your memory. She runs the girls in this school. If you get on her bad side, you are almost guaranteed to live a life not worth living. I try and be as neutral as possible.

"You know how it's our class's turn to clean the gym?" she asked, completely rhetorically. I've learned that you don't talk to these girls unless absolutely necessary. I somehow knew what was going to come next. "Well, everyone needs to go home early so can you do it for us?"

Yep, as expected. I then put out my hand and she grinned, passing me a few $100's before walking away. At least I'll be able to afford myself a nice dinner tonight. Chinese takeaway sounds tempting. Stuffing the money into my sock, I walked towards my next class yawning. I just want a nap... that's all I'm asking for.