For the past year, 18 year old Camille has been getting away with four hours of sleep, a nine hour school day and an eight hour work day overnight. That is until her three teachers and a mystery guy walk into her diner one night.
NOTE: THIS IS A 'W...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I scrubbed the counter of the residual grease from spilt food. My feet ache in my trainers as I put my whole body force into getting rid of one spot that won't budge. I use the opportunity to take out all of my anger from the day, in particular having multiple tests in a day.
The anxiety that radiated through me whilst trying to put pen to paper felt like someone was playing a cruel joke on me. I really wasn't in the mood to be mentored by Mr Laurent today but it was the first day of the new schedule with them.
I have no way of contacting them outside of school so can't tell them to fuck off for setting me tests.
As if my life isn't hard enough.
I feel a sense of achievement when I finally get the stain off and begin folding napkins. I grab a stool to sit on, breaking the rules as we are not allowed to sit behind the bar. I hum along to the nondescript cringey diner music that I, unfortunately, have no control of. I mean, seriously, it's the same 15 songs on repeat. it feels like brainwashing, but for really badly written lyrics.
I hear the bell on the door ring and am surprised to see all of my teachers walk in. I thought it was just Mr Laurent today.
"Hello?" I greet them, confused. Mr Hart, Mr Whitlock and Mr Lockwood greet me before going to sit in their usual booth. Mr Laurent walks forward and leans against his hands on the counter, showing his perfectly sculptured arms. I blink, only letting myself check them out for a second.
"Bonjour, Camille. Did you enjoy school today," Mr Laurent says with a smirk on his face. He's teasing me.
"Not in the slightest," I scowl at him. He lets out a low chuckle. "What are they all doing here?"
"Did you want some alone time with me, or something," he teases me, his French accent husky and seductive. Is he flirting with me? I stare at him confused and he takes it as a sign to answer my question. "They wanted to talk to you so they tagged along. Come join us."
I walk over hesitantly to them, watching Mr Laurent sit down but not doing so myself.
"What was with all the tests today?" I scowl at them with my arms crossed.
"I asked them to give tests," Mr Lockwood addresses me, "I wanted to know the level of all my students so I know what I'm working with." I nod but purse my lips, showing I was still annoyed. His eyes grow dark and I see a flicker of some sort of emotion in them.
"So what can I get you guys?" I ask them impatiently, tapping my pen against the notepad. They rattle off an order and I bring them four coffees. They stare at me until I give in and sit down, crossing my arms and legs.
"When did you turn 18, Camille?" Mr Lockwood inquires.
"Why?"
"We just wondered." Mr Laurent soothes and I relax a little. His French voice always makes me calm down. That's why he's my favourite teacher.
