NOTAKING
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Chapter 10(STL)
🕑 Added 2025-08-18 18:30:19 +0000 UTCTravis stepped outside, letting the morning air wash over him. The sunlight was warm but not blinding, carrying that crisp edge only early hours had. He inhaled deeply, trying to draw some energy from it, then exhaled in a long sigh.
Off to his right, Erik was leaning lazily against the pavement curb, one hand in his hoodie pocket, the other idly scrolling on his phone. When Erik noticed him, he straightened up. Travis walked over, hands tucked into his own pockets, his footsteps easy and unhurried.
"Yo Erik, how you been, man?" Travis asked as they clasped hands and pulled each other in for a quick dap.
"Good, I guess. Just been wasting my life gaming," Erik replied with a smirk. "Found this new game though—pretty sick. Oh, and… sorry for your loss, by the way."
"Don’t worry about it, man." Travis brushed it off with a small wave. "So, you ready for school?"
Erik gave him a flat look and shook his head. "Nope. Hate that place. How the hell am I still getting bullied in college? Makes zero sense, really."
"You’re right," Travis said with a smirk. "But don’t worry, Erik. In a month or two, everything around the school will change. So… let’s go."
They started walking side by side, their footsteps falling into the familiar rhythm of people who’d known each other for years. Childhood friends, sure—but they weren’t the type to be inseparable. In fact, most of their real hangouts happened at the treehouse tucked behind their houses. Outside of that, they lived almost entirely separate lives.
The looming school building soon came into view—its brick walls and faded paint standing like a gate to some personal hell. Travis slowed for a second, taking in the sight, while Erik just shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.
As they reached the front steps, Travis’s eyes swept over the crowd. Dozens of students streamed in and out, filling the air with chatter, laughter, and the occasional locker slam. He recognized a few faces—some were just background characters here, but he knew from experience they each carried their own little problems. Problems he intended to solve.
He and Erik stepped inside, and the volume only grew. Hallways buzzed with kids leaning against lockers, trading gossip, or heading toward class.
' I hate crowds honestly. But let’s forget about that. If I’m correct, I’ll meet Mrs. Smith right about now. '
Sure enough, as he scanned the area, he spotted Mrs. Smith near the staircase. Her sharp eyes locked on him instantly, and she gestured for him to come over. Travis gave Erik a quick glance before heading her way.
"Travis! You’re back. Do you know how low your marks are? I need you to come to my office," Mrs. Smith snapped, her tone crisp enough to cut through the noise of the hallway.
Before Travis could reply, Erik stepped forward. "But Mrs. Smith, his dad die—"
Her glare hit him like a physical shove, making him freeze mid-sentence. The cold intensity in her eyes spoke louder than words.
"You better get to class before I send you to detention," she said in a tone that left no room for argument.
Turning back to Travis, she added, "Travis, follow me. We need to talk." Without waiting for his answer, she pivoted on her heel and strode off toward her office.
"Alright, man, I’ll see you in class," Erik said, giving him one last dap. "By the way, I slipped something in your locker to welcome you back. Peace, man."
Travis smirked faintly to himself, appreciating Erik’s little gesture. For all his quirks, Erik was a solid friend. Still, Travis couldn’t help but remember how, in the game, his storyline had been more of an annoyance—forcing him into a choice between a MILF and a gamer girl. To him, it had been a no-brainer, but in-game Erik had acted like it was some earth-shattering dilemma.
Shaking his head at the memory, Travis started up the stairs. Halfway up, Mrs. Smith was already waiting—arms crossed, her foot tapping against the step in a rhythm that matched her obvious impatience.
"Hurry up," she called down, her voice sharp but controlled. "You need to get to class, remember?"
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and continued her climb.
Travis followed, his eyes inevitably drawn downward. Mrs. Smith’s skirt swayed with each step, revealing just enough to make his curiosity spark. His gaze flicked lower, catching the faint outline of purple panties hugging her curves with perfect precision. The way they held her hips and framed her ass was… distracting, to say the least.
Which is why she never allowed kids to loiter on the stairs—especially the guys—but now he was starting to understand firsthand.
' Damn… she thick. I really need to figure out how I’m gonna start her arc… and soon, ' he thought, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
They reached the second floor, where the atmosphere felt calmer than the chaotic first. The constant clanging of lockers and chatter was replaced by the occasional echo of footsteps down the polished hall. Club rooms lined one side, doors covered with colorful flyers. Opposite them were the teachers’ lounge, cafeteria, and computer lab, with a couple of bathrooms tucked into the corners.
Travis took a moment to glance around, recognizing the familiar layout from the game, before his eyes landed on Kevin—the only openly gay guy at their school—standing near the vending machine with his usual confident grin.
"Hey, Travis!" Kevin called out, walking over with an easy sway in his step.
"What's up, man?" Travis greeted, giving him a casual nod and half-smile.
Kevin wasted no time. "I'm great. You should check out the gym sometime—they’ve started Muay Thai classes. I think it’d be your thing."
Travis paused, briefly imagining himself knee-striking some punk who tried to mess with him. "Yeah, sounds cool. I’ll swing by when I can."
With that, Kevin gave a playful two-finger salute and headed toward the stairs, leaving Travis to continue his climb to the third floor.
The shift in mood was instant. The third floor was quieter, the air almost too still. It was where all the teachers’ offices were—each one separated and insulated from the rest of the building. A place that felt detached from the usual chaos below, which suited Travis just fine.
He walked to the far end of the hall and, without knocking, pushed open Mrs. Smith’s office door.
Inside, she was perched on the edge of her desk, arms crossed, her posture radiating control. Across from her, in one of the chairs, sat Annie—a student who always seemed to insert herself into things that weren’t her business. Annie’s eyes flickered in surprise when she saw Travis, but quickly returned to their usual sharpness.
"Now, let’s discuss your grades, Travis," Mrs. Smith began, her tone firm and precise.
"You’ve been absent for an entire month. It’s April now, and the semester’s ending soon. You have zero marks in everything—Gym, Math, English—you name it, you’re failing."
Annie snorted under her breath before leaning forward. "You’re such a disgrace."
Mrs. Smith’s head snapped toward her, eyes narrowing like a hawk. "I don’t remember asking you to speak, Annie."
Annie straightened up, her mouth pressing into a thin line.
Mrs. Smith turned back to Travis. "There’s still a chance for you to turn things around, but you need to get serious. Talk to your teachers, see if they’ll give you makeup work. Now, go."
Travis lingered a second longer. "Uh… could you help me with something? I kinda forgot the code to my locker."
Her brow arched, irritation flashing in her eyes. "We told everyone on the first day to write their combinations down. Are you dumb or what?"
Before he could answer, Annie smirked. "Seriously, are you an idiot?"
"Annie. Shut. Up," Mrs. Smith snapped, her voice cold enough to freeze the air. She let out a long sigh. "Now we have to get a new lock for your locker… Annie, take my key and open it for him."
"Yes, ma’am," Annie replied, standing and snatching the key from her desk.
They left the office, the echo of Mrs. Smith’s heels fading behind them as they descended the stairs.
"Man, you must be a real idiot to lose your combination," Annie said as they reached the first floor. She reached into her shirt and pulled the key from between her breasts, making Travis pause mid-step.
"Why the hell was it in there?" he asked, genuinely baffled.
"Because nothing gets lost there," she said with a smirk, unlocking the locker in one smooth motion.
Travis grabbed his belongings. "Kids? We’re the same age."
"Yeah, but most of you act so immature, it’s like babysitting," she shot back, slamming the locker shut. "Now move. I’m not messing up my perfect attendance because of you."
Travis rolled his eyes and followed, deciding she wasn’t worth the argument.
After retrieving his stuff, Travis and Annie made their way toward Ms. Bissette’s classroom. The hallway was buzzing with the late-morning rush—students moving in clusters, swapping gossip, a couple of guys shoving each other playfully near the lockers. Annie kept her usual brisk pace, her heels clicking against the tile, not once looking back to see if Travis was keeping up.
Inside the classroom, the atmosphere was lighter, filled with chatter and laughter. A few students leaned back in their chairs, others perched on desks, talking over the ambient noise. The smell of pencil shavings and cheap perfume lingered in the air. Annie immediately made her way to the front row, dropping into her usual seat as if it had been reserved for her since day one.
Travis stood in the doorway for a moment, scanning the room for a good spot. His eyes landed on an empty seat in the far back corner—quiet, out of the teacher’s direct line of sight, and perfect for keeping a low profile. He slid into it, leaning back casually, his gaze sweeping over the rest of the class while trying to disappear into the background.
The door opened again, and Ms. Bissette entered with her usual composed stride. Her eyes—sharp yet inviting—swept the classroom like a wave of control. She was dressed in a fitted pencil skirt and a silky blouse that seemed to shift with each step she took. Her voice cut through the noise like velvet over steel.
"Class, quiet down," she said, her tone both smooth and commanding. The chatter dwindled instantly. She smiled faintly, the corners of her lips curving with a hint of amusement. "I’ll be doing roll call, okay?"
One by one, she called names, her tone light but laced with subtle familiarity. When she reached "Travis," and heard his quiet "Here," she paused, eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise. Her gaze searched the room until it locked onto him.
"Travis, you finally decided to come to school," she said, the smile lingering a second too long. "We’re happy to have you back. Also, could you stay behind when the class leaves for the first period?"
He nodded, his expression neutral, though inwardly he was already wondering what she wanted. She resumed the roll call without missing a beat.
As Travis’s eyes wandered, they caught someone watching him—Judith. She sat alone, half-hidden by her hair, fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of her notebook. In the game, she was labeled the “beautiful loner,” though it wasn’t exactly by choice. Other girls avoided her, whispering behind her back and mocking her for her curves, cruelly nicknaming her “cow.”
To Travis, she was the opposite of what they saw—a rare gem. Someone worth getting close to. And from his knowledge of how things played out, today’s events—if handled right—could make her trust him even more. This was a chance to play his cards right and raise his “pull” stat in real life.
When Judith noticed him staring, a faint blush rose on her cheeks, and she quickly looked away, pretending to be focused on her notes. Travis smirked, turning his attention back to Ms. Bissette just as she finished the roll call.
"Alright, you may leave," she announced.
[DING]
Mission #4: Make Judith your girlfriend in less than a month.
Rewards
■ 10 Stat Points
■ New Skill
■ $10,000
Failure Penalty: Loss of your penis
‘…The hell? Why my penis of all things?’ Travis thought, suppressing a groan. ‘Whatever. I’ll finish this before that even becomes a problem.’
TO BE CONTINUED
