The Romantic Gamble (REWRITING!)

Chapter 2-Ambitions

Before I begin the chapter, I'd like to give a big shout out to my cover designer, PaintMePrettyCovers! I love the cover! Thank-you!

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Norma nearly broke the already worn-down desk in the middle of class as she copied the notes from the chalkboard down onto her notebook. Although she looked concentrated on her work with her hand moving across the paper from left to right in robotic fashion, Norma's mind was set on something else. 

She had been utterly stupid. 

Slashed the pen across the paper to finish off the 't'. 

Other words like 'moronic', 'imbecilic', and 'foolish' leisurely swam around in her mind like goldfish. 

Fingers strangled the pen in its grasp to stab a dot for the 'i'. 

Norma Smith had a date with Hank O'Connor for next Friday...and she was an idiot. 

Dark bangs peered over the lens of her glasses with a frustrated huff, she pushed it back to her head and held her hand against her hand to keep it from falling back, her elbow supported the weight of her action balanced on the desk. It was more of an excuse to dig her fingernails into her scalp. 

The figure known as Hank was incredibly obtuse frequently used gamer references that often flew over her head, and was oblivious-intentional or not-to the emotions of others around him. More than anything, she was frustrated with him more than the date. She was not one to show up on guys' radar-not on anyone's radar for that matter-ever. Why would she turn up on his? From what she gathered, Norma knew that Hank visited during her hours every so often. 

Specifically insist that she would be the one to serve him. 

Would greet her as his "favorite wench" (the title was not flattering, not one bit) whenever they had encountered each other. 

Joked that they argued with the passion of an elderly couple. 

But... 

There were moments were they would often find themselves in midst of an awkward silence that Norma found herself peeking at him every so often as she busied herself with her environment, that she would find him staring at her. The act was not even perverted that made her wonder but Hank eyed her as if she was missing something. What that was, she didn't know. 

Men need to come with a set of instructions, Norma decided as she gathered her belongings together at the end of the period, it'd save women a lot more time and effort.  

"Just because the bell rang doesn't mean my class is over," Mr. Wilson, the Literature teacher, growled at his impatient students, "Not until I dismiss you." 

With a few groans the students eased back into their seats but perched themselves on the very edge, ready to bolt through the door once he released them. Norma eased back into her seat as she waited for the man to continue. Her patience thinned with each dull thud that came with a fellow student that rocked back and forth on their crippled chair or at the sound of the continuous sharp pitter-patter of fingers against desk tops. 

The teacher soothed the broom-like textured hair that crowned around his head before he managed to speak, "Lamont Bastian Academy is open, once again, to applications for those," he paused to peer sardonically at his students over his glasses, "That have applied themselves well enough to achieve high grades." 

This announcement caused Norma to sit straighter in her chair with interest. Lamont Bastian Academy, shortened to LBA, accepting applications from broken down, rusty Tinsley Canmore High or affectionately known as "Tin Can" by its students. Now this was interesting and perhaps the only highlight of the day it seemed. The students that attended the academy had always done exemplary once out of school, were offered better job requests with better pay, and were always accepted to the best schools in the country. It was very rare that the academy even accepted kids from different schools.