181 Days of Madeline Jesty

Chapter 5: Archnemesis

Steph and I were nervous as we walked toward Mrs. Cecilia's office, but I appeared more collected than she was. We knew we would be reprimanded. She would probably ask us to contemplate on our actions and then write a dramatic apology a.k.a. a reflection paper saying we were sorry and we wouldn't repeat our "sins." Just like what I had to endure every year.

Meanwhile, I was half-glad we'd miss our first class, which was calculus. I was good at the subject, but our teacher was so monotonous that calculus should have been renamed to nap time instead. What was the sense of learning now anyway? I was going to die soon. Which reminded me . . . why did I even bother to wake up to attend school? I really should reconsider just enjoying my remaining days.

Mrs. Cecilia told us to sit on the chairs readied in front of her table before starting, "Do you know why you're here?"

Steph had her head low, just silent, digesting the awkward atmosphere. Mine was focused on my reflection on one of Ms. Cecilia's glass cabinets, bothered by the hourglass on top of my head.

Mrs. Cecilia sighed, her disappointment obvious in the way she raised her right brow. "Someone reported that you were in a club. Can you explain this to me, Ms. Isles? I believe you aren't eighteen yet."

"I am, Mrs. Cecilia," Steph countered. "That's why we were there. We were celebrating my birthday."

"Do your parents know about this?" When Steph nodded, Mrs. Cecilia asked back, "So I can call them?" as if testing her.

"Of course."

Hearing Steph's response with so much confidence was something to applaud. While she was quite the alcohol lover, she didn't like it when teachers called her attention.

"And you, Madeline?" she called, causing me to turn my head toward her. "Are you eighteen yet?"

Damn it. She started with that question to trap me, didn't she? Of course she knew I was not of legal age yet. And wow, really? We were first-name basis now? After decades attending this school, Mrs. Cecilia finally addressed me by my first name. Maybe I should be happy because she knew me after all. Ugh.

I had around two bad records every year, careful not to get to the third to avoid suspension. That meant I could fuck up at most two times annually, which—I admit—were intentional, and that was enough to have a bad reputation. She might have probably read my birthdate whenever I was up for my "annual" visit to the academic head's office.

"Not yet," I answered, trying my best to hide my sarcastic and rude tone at the back of my throat. "But I'm Steph's best friend. Can't I be invited to the party?"

"Sure. But someone told me you were seen going inside a love hotel." It didn't help that Steph glared back at me, surprising Ms. Cecilia and hinting that Steph had no idea about my after-party drama. "Oh, so the love hotel wasn't part of the birthday party, I guess?"

"Who told you that?"

"Your tone, Madeline. Your tone."

I mentally rolled my eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, Mrs. Cecilia. Whoever accused me was obviously lying."

"To be honest, Madeline, I'm not sure. She's a top student."

Jane fucking Vicente a.k.a. that prick, I thought. She was the only one whom I could think of planning to tarnish my already severely damaged reputation more. The ever-so-graceful Jane Vicente. The principal's niece. The esteemed president of our student supreme government. A candidate of this year's most prestigious award, St. Agnes of Rome award. My archnemesis. A pretentious bitch.