You're My Home

8: Book Bag

OLIVIA'S POV

I burst into class furious on Tuesday. "Your friend is a dick," I said, slamming my feedback sheet on her desk with all my force. "Excuse me?" She asked unimpressed with god knows what, it's always something with her. My tone, my eye roll, my body language, my words. "Bruce Banner." "Why?" "He failed me!" I shouted at her.  

"Hey." She warned. "I worked so hard on my client case and I get an F and Carol. Carol winging it up there and she got an A+. I can't believe him. I wanted to smash his stupid brick head against the stupid wall. Gosh! He's a dick. I did well. I did very well. I would have won my case!" I say pacing around in front of her. She was reading over my feedback form. 

"Can you believe this?" I asked her. "This isn't funny! I can't fail. I don't fail." I tell her and she still had that stupid amused smirk on her face. I snatched my form back and she grabbed my wrist pulling me close to her our noses a centimetre from touching. "Don't ever do that again." She warned taking it back from me but still holding me so I couldn't move away. My breath hitched in my throat as I looked into her eyes. They were so pretty, she was so pretty. Her eyes moved from my eyes to my lips and back up. She slowly let go of my wrist allowing me to move back. 

"Ask for it nicely." "Please may I have it back?" She handed it to me so I took it. "Have you spoken to him about it?" "No, but I should. I am. I'm going to speak to him right now." I say firmly putting my paper in my bag and swinging it over my shoulder. I ignored her calls for me and continued to walk out of the building. I stood looking around trying to plan a route to the subway. When I figured it out I went at a quick pace. 

How could he think that I failed? That would mean I lost my case and I most certainly didn't therefore he is wrong and he needs to fix my grade. Because if my father sees this I'll be dead. He may be a million miles away but he would quite literally kill me. I made it to the subway station and jumped on the first train I could find. 

"Hey!" Shit. I turned around and saw a pissed off looking, Russian. I shrunk back. "I was calling for you." "I didn't hear you." "Clearly. We have class young lady." "Can't we make it up later? It's just me anyway." "No, we can't. Because our class time is now." "It's one class. I need to fix this." "It's one test." She mocked. I rolled my eyes. "Don't do that." She warned me in a hushed but firm tone. It caused butterflies to erupt in my tummy, it happened every time and I couldn't understand why. Was it because it made me nervous, her being so firm with me? But It wasn't because it didn't make me nervous, not when she spoke to me like that. What made me nervous was when she pulled me close to her today, which made me nervous. 

"Sorry," I mumbled. She rode the train with me until we got to the stop I needed and then I marched up to the building. 

"Excuse me," I say knocking on the door and opening it to the office. "Olivia Barton, lovely to see you." "Can't say I feel the same way right now," I say getting my feedback form out. "And why is that." "You failed me," I say holding out the form. "You failed me and past Carol. That's why." "Carol had a very good argument." "Carol had an easy to get off charge. I had a murder. Who was a victim of abuse? I would have convinced a jury to reduce charges if not innocents and you know it." I tell him folding my arms across my chest. He raised his eyebrow at me. "And what makes you think you would have got reduced chargers. Your client murdered her husband." "It was self defence. He had been abusing her for years. And there's police records to prove it." I tell him. "She killed him." "It was self-defence, she had defensive wounds from where he was hurting her. It wasn't murder." "Man-slaughter, he was still dead." "She would have been and so would her children." I defended. "Respectfully Mr Banner. I believe that you have made a mistake and I want to be reassessed." I tell him firmly and calmly. 

He smiled at me. "I'm not amused," I tell him. He went into his draw and pulled out a paper holding it out to me. "This is your real assessment feedback form." He told me. I scanned it over. I got an A+ But I couldn't let myself be happy right now. I was so pissed at him. "So you did this for a joke?" I asked him. "Not exactly." "You failed me. You made me believe I had failed an assessment." "But you didn't." "No, I know I didn't fail." "And I did it because I wanted you to believe in your abilities, to see if you were truly confident in your argument." I raised my eyebrows. "This school is a fucking joke," I say slamming the door behind me.