Lady Lucia
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Schoolgirl for a Day, Chapter Four
🕑 Added 2025-03-05 03:15:59 +0000 UTCRoxanne didn’t know why the woman was in her classroom to begin with. Was she there to observe? That didn’t make any sense. While surprise observations were certainly a part of being a teacher at the academy, common practice was for the person to quietly enter the room after the class had settled into their seats. There was always the chance that the woman was passing by and happened to notice a ‘student’ sitting up front instead of where she was supposed to be.
Except Roxanne wasn’t actually a student. So much for keeping this under wraps. She did plan on sharing the motivational method at some point, but wanted to do so after her day in uniform. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, since being told ‘no’ by the administration would mean losing her credibility with her students by not being able to see the terms of the bet through. Either way, she could at least fall back on the reportable success of how her class did on the test compared to previous ones.
“Oh, I’m their teacher,” Roxanne said, “Roxanne Rose. It’s kind of a long story.”
“Uh huh,” the woman replied, “Roxanne is out sick today; I’m her substitute. But you probably already knew that. Your teacher’s absence doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want. I’m just as familiar with the rules, and can write you up just as easily.”
What? She wasn’t out sick; she was literally right there. “No, I’m-”
“Meadow!” Cynthia exclaimed, “Stop talking, before you get us all in trouble.” The popular girl had surprisingly good hearing to get all that from her desk in the middle of the classroom, and/or was making a conscious effort to listen through the noise of the other conversations nearby. Hopping up from her seat and strutting up to the front of the room, she said, “Sorry about her. She’s new. And from a public school, right?”
Well, yes. Back when she was in high school. Roxanne was completely thrown off by Cynthia interjecting herself into the conversation, when it was already a bit of an uphill battle thanks to how Roxanne’s purse was wherever Neve had stashed it in the teacher’s lounge. “I’m not new; I’m their teacher,” Roxanne insisted.
Wait, was Cynthia the reason for this unexpected development? She could have called the school and pretended to be Roxanne, to stir up a little trouble at the beginning of the day. If Roxanne had her wallet, this would just be an embarrassing moment where she would have to explain why she was wearing a student uniform. Thanks to everything with Neve, however, the only thing that could currently prove Roxanne’s identity was a few accounts on her phone. That, or another teacher that knew her.
“Again, sorry about her,” Cynthia sighed. Between being a theatre brat and a queen bee, it was easy for her to feign annoyance and act like ‘Meadow’ was a classmate who was trying to mess with the substitute teacher in the most nonsensical way. “Meadow, come on. That’s not your seat, and you’re not anyone’s teacher.”
“Yes, I am,” Roxanne flatly said. Though she was annoyed at Cynthia for playing into what was either a mistake or a set-up, she wasn’t going to let the student get a rise out of her. “Here, I’ll show you.” Roxanne took out her phone; her recent emails would be more than enough to prove who she was, not to mention the account itself. Not quite as simple as showing a driver’s license or faculty ID, but better than nothing.
Nothing is all she was about to have, however. “Meadow!” Cynthia exclaimed. Snatching the phone out of the young woman’s hand before it was unlocked, she said, “No cell phones during class hours. You’re supposed to leave this in your room.” Stepping over to the substitute, Cynthia held out the device and said, “Here.”
“Thank you,” the woman said, “What’s your name?”
“Cynthia Lott, Miss,” she politely replied.
“Well, Ms. Lott,” she said, “While I appreciate your help, I’m more than capable of handling girls like Meadow myself. Please return to your desk.”
Cynthia didn’t miss a beat. “I’m sorry, Miss.” The damage to Roxanne had been done, anyway; the popular girl knew how to adapt, and being a good student would only further separate herself from the brunette who was dealing with an amusing situation of mistaken identity.
Meanwhile, Roxanne was still processing the audacity of Cynthia grabbing her phone. During class, the girl at least pretended to be respectful enough to make writing her up more trouble than it was worth. With a different authority figure present, and Roxanne dressed as she was, clearly Cynthia felt like she could push her luck. “Please give that back,” she said to the stern woman, “I can show you-”
“Meadow.” Despite it being a fake name, the two syllables were surprisingly intimidating as the tall, Asian teacher met her eyes and demanded her attention. “Take. Your. Seat.”
Roxanne wanted to keep pushing back. To do what Cynthia did, and grab the phone out of the woman’s hand. Or perhaps just demanded that she call the office to set things straight. Instead, Roxanne gave up and figured it was just easier to let herself be treated like a student for a minute. Sitting with the other girls could be beneficial. It would give her a unique perspective that not even auditing a class offered, and she really only had to last an hour. After that, everyone present would be heading to their next teacher and Roxanne could go sort things out and inform the office that she wasn’t sick.
Students had assigned seats, so Roxanne already knew it was just a couple desks in the back that were available. It was only when she sat down, feeling self conscious as the skirt rode up like before, that she realized how underprepared she would look compared to the rest of the girls. All of her materials were up front, plus she wasn’t actually a student. While everyone else in the room had textbooks, binders, and spiral notebooks, Roxanne’s desk was completely empty.
Before she had time to consider if it was worth it to at least grab the History textbook and a couple things from her actual desk, since the substitute teacher saw her sitting up there and it would probably make sense for her to have left her class supplies nearby, the woman at the front of the classroom got everyone’s attention.
“Good morning,” she said. Standing in front of Roxanne’s desk and effortlessly commanding everyone’s silence better than their actual teacher knew how to, she introduced herself. “I’m Ms. Kwon. I’ll be teaching Ms. Rose’s class today, and I expect all of you to behave as if this were any other lesson.”
That was one of many differences between a private school like the one Roxanne worked at and the average public school. For the tuition they were paying, parents expected their girls to get the best education offered in the area. Instead of worksheets or a movie when a teacher was out sick, the students would get a teacher like Ms. Kwon who continued from the lesson plans that Roxanne was required to send weeks in advance.
As Ms. Kwon continued with her opening spiel, Roxanne fidgeted in the uncomfortable uniform. The silver lining to all of this was that the spotlight was on someone who was actually dressed appropriately to teach a class. At the same time, it wasn’t as if she was invisible. Every thirty seconds or so, she would get a glance or two from one of her students. Mostly from the girls in the row in front of her, as well as those on the opposite side of the room. Anyone else wouldn’t be able to glance over their shoulders without drawing unwanted attention from the substitute teacher who had stated the same thing she had threatened to Roxanne. They knew the rules, and could be written up whether it was Ms. Rose or her teaching the class.
Roxanne quietly sighed to herself. Why couldn’t she exude authority like that? She was just so bad at confrontation, which inevitably led to her being a bit of a push-over in a variety of settings. Of course, her size didn’t help. Hopefully next semester would give her another shot at establishing a better dynamic with a new round of students.
For the moment, she just tried her best to ignore the glimpses and amused smiles of those around her as Ms. Kwon got started on the day’s lesson. It wasn’t as if Roxanne had to take notes. She knew the material backwards and forwards, as she had both prepped it and been prepared to teach the content herself this week.
She kept waiting to be called out, either for not bringing anything to class like every other girl in the room, or just because Ms. Kwon perceived her as a troublemaker. Roxanne would sometimes call on students who looked tired and/or spaced out. Not to embarrass them or anything like that; it was just a good way to nudge girls to focus up, without making a big deal about it. She kind of wanted to be asked a question. A thorough answer from the young woman who prepared the very lesson plan the substitute was using would hopefully prove that Cynthia was lying and Roxanne was telling the truth.
That wasn’t Ms. Kwon’s style. Now that she had established order, she was just doing her job. Teaching everything that was scheduled for the day, which wasn’t difficult to do when every girl present was being quiet and respectful. Roxanne began to wonder if it was just because the woman had an intimidating presence, or if her entire class was collectively being bratty by acting completely differently when someone else was at the front of the room.
Either way, all she could do was sit there, honoring the bet in an even more embarrassing manner than she expected. The minutes dragged on, making the hour of class feel a lot longer than that by the time Ms. Kwon dismissed them.
As badly as Roxanne wanted to get her phone back, she knew it would be far less complicated to do so once this mix-up had been sorted out. So much for not letting the administration see her like this. If she had known her quiet arrival on campus would have led to the office marking her down as sick for the day, Roxanne would have done things differently from the beginning. But she didn’t know, and now she was going to have to teach these girls tomorrow while somehow finding a way to live her ‘student’ experience down.
Ever the opportunist, Cynthia was determined to get the most out of how things had developed since the arrival of the substitute teacher. Roxanne had been one of the first girls out of the classroom, as the back row made it easy to slip out the side door. She also didn’t need to worry about an armful of books and notebooks. Even so, Cynthia managed to catch up with her surprisingly quickly. “Meadow! Where are you going?” Her hands were also free; it was one of the perks of having a clique of girls who did anything she said. Partly because Cynthia was casually bossy, partly because they knew that listening to her led to beneficial and/or entertaining results for all of them.
Grimacing as she belatedly registered the false name that Cynthia was calling her by, Roxanne turned around and said, “It’s ‘Ms. Rose.’” Whether it was ‘Meadow’ or ‘Roxanne,’ Cynthia was breaking the rules by referring to her as anything but the proper way teachers were supposed to be addressed.
“No one’s buying it, Meadow,” Cynthia rolled her eyes, “Look at you. Obviously, you’re a student. And you’re going the wrong way! Our next class is one building over.”
It was one of those quirks the academy had that Roxanne understood in theory, while also thinking it wasn’t that efficient. Every class had the same roster of students, yet the girls rotated classrooms every hour or so. To Roxanne, it made more logistical sense for the teachers to move from place to place, while everyone else remained at their desks. On the other hand, that was just how the students got some fresh air, a little exercise from walking, whatever socializing happened between classes, etc. Pros and cons to either approach, sure; Roxanne was mostly just tired of students running late for whatever reason.
“Did you call in sick for me?” Roxanne asked, point blank.
She tilted her head in genuine curiosity. “What?” Then, getting back into character, she answered the question in an informational way that allowed her to keep treating the young woman as a student. “If you were a teacher, Meadow, the office would have your contact information on file.And if you’re asking about Ms. Kwon, I have no idea why she’s here today.”
Roxanne kind of believed her. Especially since it would have been more than simply faking a sick voice. There would have been questions about her schedule, her lesson plan, and any number of things Cynthia probably wouldn’t have been able to bullshit on the spot.
Wait, had Neve done this? The tall blonde had been helpful earlier, though she could have pushed Roxanne deeper into the student image for the sake of messing with her. But, why? This place was too proper for something like hazing or pranks that would indirectly impact the students.
“Whatever,” Roxanne said. Normally, that word would be fine. When dressed like a schoolgirl, however, it wasn’t doing her any favors. “I need to go to the office.”
“Uh huh,” Cynthia said, “Is it an emergency?”
Roxanne hesitated. No, it wasn’t technically an emergency. But also, she didn’t have to answer to Cynthia.
“No? Then you can’t be excused from your next class without permission from Ms. Diaz, and a pass to the office in case you get stopped by anyone. Let’s go, Meadow.” She assertively took Roxanne’s wrist and tugged her towards the direction dozens of other students were walking.
“Wait!” Roxanne exclaimed. She stumbled slightly from the abrupt forward momentum, managing to keep her feet under her as she was dragged after the tall brat. For a girl who was paraphrasing the academy rules, Cynthia didn’t seem to have any reservations about doing something like this with one of her teachers. “I need to-” She gasped as she was yanked forward into the crowd, which would make pulling her arm free more involved when she had to avoid bumping those around them.
Smirking to herself, Cynthia said, “This way!” She just had to get ‘Meadow’ to their classroom. Ms. Diaz was a total hardass, and even her students knew that she was there to teach and not to make friends. There was a very good chance Ms. Rosy hadn’t met her yet, or at least not spent enough time with her to be recognized when in uniform.
All she had to do was shove little Meadow in the right direction, and the rest would take care of itself.
Comments
liljah
Love it
