Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 288(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“Only if you tell on me again.”
“Which I will, because it is my job.”
“Oh my god,” Storm groans once more, covering her face with her hands. “Can you just fuck off?”
A hard smack around the ear makes her pull her hands from her face. She looks up askance to find that all trace of sympathy has evaporated from Laura’s visage. She is now as stern and blonde and unyielding as ever, even as she stands there in pants, refusing to bow to the very same pressures Storm is trying to avoid. Storm wishes she had pants.
“You’re such a spoiled little brat,” Laura says. “You want everything to be your way all the time. If you’re asked to do anything, even small, that you don’t feel like doing, you act as if the world is ending.”
It’s the sort of lecture that might shame someone else into obedience, but Storm is more argumentative than to give into a few sentences about the virtues of not getting one’s way.
“If I have to spend my life doing things I don’t want to do, then the world may as well end.”
Laura’s eyes widen slightly at the sheer audacity of that statement, made with complete conviction.
“Get up,” she orders. “Now.”
“No.”
Laura reaches down, grips her by the front of her blouse, and pulls her up to her feet. The deportment uniform is now stained green with chlorophyll, and there are bits of twig and leaf in Storm’s hair.
“What are you going to do? Take me to Jane? Get her to cane me again?”
Storm laughs. “I don’t care.”
“I think you do care. I think you care very much. Shall I take you there now?”
Laura makes a move as if to haul Storm off to Jane’s office.
“Okay, stop!” Storm’s voice hits a note of panic. “Maybe I do care a little.”
“Go back to class,” Laura says. “Before I deal with you myself.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Laura’s grip tightens and she pulls up on Storm’s blouse just enough to lift Storm up onto her toes. She bows her head so that they are very much nearly nose to nose. It is a position that makes it impossible for Storm to do anything other than listen as she is suddenly confronted with a sliver of Laura’s potential for inflicting pain.
“I am not as kind or as refined as Miss Strict. If you want a rougher life, you will find one if you keep pushing me. Now. Go.”
She releases Storm, and Storm drops back onto her heels, taking a step back for both balance and distance.
There’s something in Laura’s tone that makes Storm listen. Though she does not want to go back to class, she wants even less to keep poking this big blonde bear. So she does what she always does and makes the choice of the lesser of two evils.
When Storm returns to the classroom, the rest of the class is practicing their curtsies, still with books on their head. With straight backs and upright gazes, they bob into little motions that make them look… honestly, fucking stupid to Storm’s gaze, but it apparently pleases Madame Pritchard.
“And where have you b….” Madame Pritchard’s voice trails off as she turns to look at Storm. “What has happened to you!?”
“I was in a bush,” Storm explains.
“Wh… how…” Madame Pritchard is lost for words. “We are practicing walking. How on earth could you end up in a bush?”
“These things happen. Should I grab a book, or…”
“You can go take a bath. I will be making a report to Miss Strict about this behavior. It is absolutely unacceptable.”
Storm doesn’t argue the point. She’s not good at walking around with books on her head, but she is good at getting thrown out of things.
Departing the class once more, things go from bad to worse as Storm runs into Frau Lotte almost immediately.
“You should be in…”
“She kicked me out of class because of a bush,” Storm explains, before Frau Lotte can finish her sentence.
The older woman’s lips purse with displeasure. “I will be making a report to Miss Strict.”
“You’ll be in good company,” Storm says, continuing on her way. Somehow these days are all more disastrous than the next.
After a lengthy morning constitutional walk to Zermatt and back to clear her mind, Jane is feeling refreshed and ready to face the day for a second time. The false start with Kiera dies not count, she has decided. This morning she has two students on her list to deal with, Penelope, for a second time in two weeks, and Melissa, a young lady she is yet to properly meet. Neither one of them should pose her any undue problems.
She enters her office once more, finding it mercifully empty. There. The day is not lost. Indeed, it has barely begun. She goes to her desk to get some note paper and send for the girls, but before she can, she is confronted by three yellow disciplinary infraction slips. These are short reports filled out by the staff for her benefit. Usually she gets one or two a week. Three is an unusual number for so early in the day.