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)
There is one from Laura, one from Madame Pritchard, the deportment teacher, and a third from Frau Lotte herself. They all bear the same name.
Jane sighs as she reads: “Storm, Storm, Storm.”
Jane finds the girl in question sitting in her room looking at a pair of very ripped hosiery with a miserable expression. She has showered and changed into fresh clothes, indicating that she has recently gotten herself into some kind of absolute mess.
“Three notes with your name on them,” Jane says as she walks in the door. “That has to be a record, even for you. How have you managed to convince half the faculty you deserve to be punished this early in the day?
Storm’s room is in chaos, but Jane decides to ignore that for the moment. She wants to deal with this matter efficiently and swiftly.
Storm slumps on the bed, her posture very bad indeed.
“I’m awful,” she says. “But they’re more awful. You should see what we’re supposed to do in that deportment class! You have to put a book on your head like some kind of…”
Jane listens to Storm’s litany of woes. It takes quite a bit of skill to have started in a classroom and ended up being physically dragged out of a bush by an annoyed guard, but she’s no longer surprised by anything Storm gets up to.
She also has no intention of punishing her charge. Not yet, anyway. It is time to consider another approach when it comes to this willful young lady who has shown ever increasing capacity to take discipline without learning her lesson.
“Before this day completely derails… what if you were good at these things?”
“What?” Storm stares at her.
“What if you were good at walking around with books on your head?”
“Uhm…”
“What if you were one of the best at walking around with books on your head? What if it were a sport of sorts?”
A little light has gone on in Storm’s eyes. She’d swear she isn’t competitive, but deep down, she absolutely is.
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t know where to start being good at that.”
“Well, first of all, you’re going to throw those hose away, they’re ruined, and then you’re going finish getting dressed…”
Storm waves a thin bow at her. “I can’t even tie this stupid tie. Why can’t we wear real ties? They’re simple, because men have to wear them.”
“Come here,” Jane says, crooking a finger.
Storm does as she is told, approaching Jane with her tie and a downtrodden expression. Jane does her the favor of sliding it around her neck, under the collar, and tying it as it should be tied, with enough tension at the knot to keep it in place.
“There,” she says. “You look practically civilized.”
Storm smiles a little. “I do?”
“Yes,” Jane says, continuing to ignore the unmade bed, the random objects absolutely everywhere, picked up and put down seemingly at random. She imagines this must be the aftermath of the great cigarette hunt.
“Now, find some hose that don’t have a run in them…” She trails off as Storm shakes her head sorrowfully.
“Alright, never mind the hose. Come with me. We are going to go back to your class, you are going to apologize to Madame Pritchard and then you are going to see if you can’t impress me with how good you get at all this silly deportment stuff.”
She can see the hesitancy in Storm’s eyes, but she can see something else too, a little glimmer of hope.
“Okay,” Storm says. “I’ll try. Not for them, though. I don’t care what they think.”
Jane smiles at the unspoken implication. “Good girl,” she says, watching with some fondness as Storm practically melts at the unexpected praise.
13 GOOD GIRL. BAD GIRL
Laura happens to pass Jane and Storm by on their way back to the deportment lesson. Jane gives Laura a smile. She does not receive one back, mostly because Laura is not looking at her. Instead she is looking at the young lady by Jane’s side, the one who is quite obviously wandering about unpunished.
Jane glances to see what expression Storm has. She’s smiling, and that smile turns to a smirk when she makes eye contact with Laura. There’s a brief, silent, yet very loud declaration in that look.
For a moment, Jane does wonder if she is being too nice. She can already tell Laura thinks so. The ex-soldier looks absolutely disappointed. She gives Storm a little nudge with her elbow, and Storm glances over at her before schooling her expression into something a little more contrite. It’s a look for Jane’s benefit and nobody else.
“Miss Strict, what a surprise,” Madame Pritchard says in greeting.
“I’m returning your student,” Jane says. “Storm is ready to take matters seriously and participate along with the rest of the class without trouble.”
“Yes. Sorry,” Storm says, a light pink flush appearing on her cheeks. She manages not to grit her teeth, but only just. She clearly hates apologizing, and the entire concept of deportment remains offensive to her, but she made a promise to Jane, and that seems to mean something.