Chapter 5

I barely had time to tell my mother what I had done before I found myself anxiously watching her walk toward the door of Room 209 the very next day. With a dramatic sigh, I trailed behind her, already anticipating the scolding I was about to receive. And the punishment? Ah, intrigue, my dear, intrigue.

With one last stern glance at me—her troublesome child—she stepped inside with confidence, while I, having no other choice, remained standing alone in the deserted hallway, waiting. I had no desire to be present for the proceedings. Besides, my presence wasn't particularly required; after all, the teacher had made himself perfectly clear: "I want to see your parents!"

But not being inside didn't mean not listening to what they were saying. Oh, how I wanted to hear their lively discussion about my utterly shameful act! So, without a moment's hesitation, I pressed my ear against the slightly open door and sharpened my hearing like a radar.

Inside were my mother, the biology teacher, and our school's deputy principal. Interesting. When exactly had she managed to find out? The only one missing from the full cast was my homeroom teacher, but she had fortunately fallen ill and taken temporary sick leave. Almost as if she had foreseen this, huh?

Naturally, the deputy principal, like a roaring lion, took the initiative to start the conversation:

"This is outrageous! Unthinkable blasphemy!"

Her voice shrieked so loudly that my ears nearly wilted from the pitch. I was sure that if someone had placed a glass in front of her at that moment, it would have shattered into tiny pieces from the sheer intensity.

"Such actions tarnish the school's reputation!"

Oh, so they tarnish the reputation, do they? So when a boy from another school class does something so ridiculous that your eyes widen in disbelief, that's fine? But when I, for once in my life, decide to slightly adjust my work—my own independent work, mind you—suddenly the school's reputation plummets to rock bottom? Typical! If there's one thing our deputy principal excels at, it's making a mountain out of a molehill. And not just any mountain—a colossal one.

"What happened to this girl? She used to be a model student, a top achiever, and now look at the disgrace she's committed—sneaking into the teachers' supply room to swap out her test!"

Excuse me, ma'am, not swap, but adjust! Just a tiny bit. And believe it or not, I was dying to say that out loud—so fiercely that it would instantly put our power-hungry deputy principal in her place. But I held my tongue like a true soldier, giving no indication that I was standing right there behind the door. Right behind it, eavesdropping. Committing a terrible sin, in fact.

Suddenly, the deputy principal fell silent, cutting her furious speech off mid-sentence, and an eerie silence filled the room. Oh, I'd bet a hundred bucks it was because of my mom and her piercing, almost hypnotic stare—the kind that could shut anyone up. Mom had a special talent for silencing people without uttering a word. One look from her, and suddenly, all words vanished, a flashing "Error 404" ran through your brain, your tongue froze, and the will to argue disappeared. Even our feared deputy principal, who could strike terror into the hearts of eleventh graders, wasn't immune.

"I'm sure this is some kind of misunderstanding," my mother said calmly, no doubt keeping the same composed expression on her face.

"How could this be a misunderstanding, Mrs. Martin?" The deputy principal's voice had noticeably lost its sharpness. "The teacher caught her red-handed. She must have been trying to fix her failing grade."

Oh, she always had it out for me, our dear deputy principal. I swear, I never gave her any reason to reprimand me—let alone expel me—but here I had made an unforgivable mistake. I peeked through the door's crack and caught a glimpse of the biology teacher, who suddenly looked quite uneasy now that he was dragged into the conversation.

What, already regretting snitching on me? Serves you right, pathetic teacher!

"Not a failing grade, a B," he muttered. The deputy principal's eyes widened in shock. At least she didn't drop her jaw in utter disbelief. But my mother? No, not at all. She knew exactly why I had taken such drastic—albeit shameful—measures.

And just like that, in a blink, the discussion took a completely different turn. A totally different one. They decided that additional tutoring with Mr. Gilbert would help me master the material and pull my grade up to an A.

Wait, what? Tutoring? With our new biology teacher? Mom, have you lost your mind agreeing to this? I don't get it! I know she was still searching for someone to replace Mrs. Robinson for my tutoring, even after I promised I'd manage on my own. But to immediately agree to the deputy principal's brilliant idea? Strange. Was there really no one else willing to take me on?

Saying I was thrilled would be an understatement. Mr. Gilbert first tried to decline, claiming he had no time, but when our eyes met—mine full of displeasure, irritation, and fiery protest—he suddenly agreed. Promising to find the time to tutor me. I was sure he did it just to spite me, that bastard. His loss.

I barely had time to jump away from the door and pretend to be utterly fascinated by the white ceiling above me when it suddenly swung open, and my mother, none the worse for wear after the discussion, stepped out. Casting a serious yet unreadable glance at me, she arched her left brow and strode down the hall. I followed. The sharp clack-clack of her heels echoed so loudly against the walls that I could barely keep up with her in my sneakers.

What, she wasn't even going to say anything? No lecture, no yelling, no nerves fraying? Or was she just waiting until we reached a quieter, more private place? But the hallway was already deserted. I let out a relieved sigh, thinking I had escaped my mother's punishment.

But no such luck.

"Keys, darling."

Oh, no. Not my precious metal steed. She couldn't do this to me!

"Oh, come on, Mom," I whined, throwing her a pleading look. But she was unwavering. No puppy-dog eyes could change her mind. Her decision was final.

"And how am I supposed to get to school?" I tried to reason with her, hoping to convince her that taking my motorcycle away would be more trouble for her than for me.

"On foot," she replied mercilessly.

Strict, ruthless, and indifferent to my protests. She had become a full-fledged dictator since taking over a major company in the city. A boss should be like that, I guess.

"Finally, at least wear a dress or a skirt for once, all you ever wear is jeans, jeans, and more jeans", — my mom softened a little, casting a quick glance at me. "A skirt"? Mom, you must have completely forgotten how much I hate that particular piece of clothing. Not just hate, but passionately curse it, with an immense feeling of disgust.

Fighting my irritation inside, I had no choice but to hand over the keys to my mom. But only when we got home. After all, I had to get home somehow, or rather, get there on something. And I wasn't about to leave my motorcycle in the schoolyard. It was annoying, frustrating, but fine.

Family dinner. Dad is leaving tomorrow, and it seemed like we should discuss a lot of untouched topics, laugh together, and do plenty of other things. But no. A deathly silence hung in the dining room, and I could hear my steady breathing even without trying to listen, while the tension growing between us with every passing second seemed like it was about to crush us.

Dad was poking at something in his plate, occasionally raising his eyes to look at either me or mom. At some point during the meal, unable to contain himself, he let out a brief chuckle.

"Sorry, darling, did you sneeze?" — Hearing this, my mother gave my father a confused look.

"No" — Dad couldn't hold back his smirk any longer, so he tossed his fork into the plate and burst into loud laughter.

At first, mom and I exchanged confused glances with a feigned seriousness, then we both stared at the seemingly mad person in front of us. But laughter, damn it, is so contagious. First, I let out a giggle, then mom joined in, and soon the clearly insane laughter of the three of us filled the kitchen. We didn't understand why, didn't know why, but we laughed. Genuinely, peacefully, joyfully.

"Well, really, girls" — Dad continued smiling. "It was scary watching you. I can't imagine, Eva, what kind of terrible thing you've done."

"It wasn't terrible at all" — I frowned dramatically, pursing my lips into a thin line, trying to hold back another wave of laughter.

"Just foolish and embarrassing" — mom finished for me, already clearly amused. As was I. Dad gave me a look like, "I'm waiting, princess. Tell me what happened," and mom turned, nodding as if to say I should hurry up and tell.

"Well" — I became serious again, clasping my hands together and resting my chin on them, looking somewhere beyond where Dad was sitting. And damn it, I felt a bit embarrassed, like I was back there in the biology office, Mr. Gilbert's stare drilling into me. "I just wanted to make a small correction to my independent work. So, I snuck into the supply room."

I exhaled loudly, giving a guilty smile and shrugging. Well, Dad wouldn't shout or judge me, and I'd already gotten a lecture from Mom... and punishment, damn it.

"You naughty girl" — Dad looked at me with pity, then stood up, leaning over the table to gently stroke my head. — To think you came up with such an idea.

"It's okay, it's okay "— Mom threatened, raising her index finger. "You'll learn biology from me. And I'll teach you so well that such foolish things won't cross your mind again."

I smirked in response, secretly glad we didn't have biology tomorrow. I've always disliked that subject, but now, I started to absolutely hate it. Maybe it was my foolish action that contributed to this growing hate, but I doubt my feelings will change. Or maybe they will. Who knows?