Please, Miss (GirlxGirl) ✔️

15 | grief

"Okay, settle down," Miss Bowen called from the front of the class the day after we'd returned from London. "Now I know I haven't given you any notice to study, but I'm giving you a test today. You've got an hour to answer forty questions. The test papers are on your desk, and I expect quiet please. Begin."

A low groan arose from the class as everyone opened their papers reluctantly. I heard Miss Bowen stand up from her desk and begin walking down the aisle on my right, overlooking people as they began writing their answers.

I glanced at the first question with a sigh. I was clueless already, but I didn't want to put Miss Bowen in another mood with me if I failed. I seemed to feel like I was always walking on eggshells around her, and it made me nervous.

I listened as her footsteps walked up the aisle to my left. When she reached me, she looked down at me, eyebrows slightly raised. "Come on, Evie. This isn't a hard paper," she said quietly.

"A little notice might have been nice."

"I think we both know you wouldn't have studied for it even if I'd told you about the test three months in advance," she whispered, her eyes remaining on mine for a few moments before trailing away.

I rolled my eyes, biting the lid off my pen and staring down at the page as she continued walking quietly down the next aisle. I managed to get through most of the questions, remembering odd flecks of information and throwing them into a paragraph of bullshit every once in a while. I was almost certain by the time I reached the end question that I'd barely scraped a D grade, but I'd answered most of the questions, and I hoped that she wouldn't be too disappointed in me.

At the end of the lesson, Miss Bowen collected up the papers from our desks before the bell dismissed us. It was fifth period, so I hung back at the end as everyone else left, in no rush to get back to my dorm.

"Hey," I said softly, walking around to the front of her desk and sitting on the edge.

Miss Bowen glanced upwards fleetingly before returning her eyes to the papers that she was sorting in front of her. In the split second that our eyes met, I noticed an unfamiliar defeated look, made more prominent by the dark shadows beneath her waterline. She looked exhausted, and not just physically. "Hey."

"I was just wondering if you'd heard any news from your dad?"

I watched her pause momentarily, a flicker of something unreadable flashing across her eyes. I watched her throat move as she swallowed. "No. My mother wouldn't go as far to give me daily updates, Evie. She only emailed because he's on his last legs, and even the Ice Queen knows it would be wrong to wait until he was dead to tell me about his cancer. She doesn't give a shit about—" A pause, followed by a heavy sigh as she looked up at me. "I'm sorry, I keep unloading my problems on you. It's unprofessional."

I rolled my eyes. "Fuck being professional." She smiled weakly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Will you go to the funeral?"

She shook her head almost immediately. "God no. Why would I pay my respects to the man who gave me none whatsoever?"

I nodded slowly. "But don't you need, you know, closure or something?"

"I've spent the last three years getting over the loss of my parents, Evie. When I left that day, they died to me. I've gotten used to it, I've gotten over it. I don't need any closure. I'm fine, really. You should stop worrying about me and focus on your studies," she glanced at my paper with a shake of her head. "I'd say you barely scraped fifty percent on this one."

"Hey, twenty out of forty isn't bad. In my book, that's a pass."

She raised an eyebrow. "In your book, smoking with a drug addict on a school trip is acceptable, so let's not use your moral compass when making decisions, okay?"