Toby: Yep, I’m a lucky motherfucker. Enjoy your ride… I know I will. See you later.
Toby: And don’t worry about Nico. I’ll handle him.
“If only that were fucking possible,” I mutter as I look around at my surroundings and a little squeal of excitement falls from my lips.
I shouldn’t accept it. I should drive it straight to their building and refuse it.
But the thought of those tubes, all the sweaty commuters, and the long-arse walk up to those imposing buildings while the elite kids of London drive past me in their Aston Martins and Maseratis…
Yeah, or I could just use it for a few weeks. Take advantage of my connections and make my life easier. Something tells me that Nico is going to owe me over the coming days.
More so than what you’ve already spent on his credit card…
“Fuck it,” I say to myself, pressing my finger against the start button. In only a few minutes, I have my phone synced, my music playing, and I’m pulling out of the space. All I can hope is that my day continues to be better than I was expecting.
The drive to Knight’s Ridge is smooth with barely any traffic, and before I know it, I’m heading up the insane driveway that leads to the ominous buildings which hold the fate of my future teaching career.
The car park is practically empty with other staff members’ cars littered around. It means I thankfully don’t have to park next to something that costs more than I’m likely to earn in a lifetime and worry about opening the door on it.
I kill the engine, plunging myself into silence before grabbing my phone once more and opening our previous conversation.
Brianna: Thank you. You have no idea how much easier you have made my life. If Jodie doesn’t get on her knees to thank you, I will.
I hit send without thought and the second it shows as read, I panic that it might have been a little much.
Toby: Save your skills for my boy.
“Been there, done that,” I mutter to myself as I find my conversation with Jodie.
Brianna: FYI you owe your boyfriend a bazillion blow jobs. Might want to stock up on lip balm.
Best bitch: So I’ve heard. Can’t say I’m complaining. He always reciprocates.
Brianna: Lucky bitch.
Best bitch: No midnight visitors last night, I take it?
Brianna: Thankfully not. My vag needed a rest.
Best bitch: Like that’s ever stopped you before.
Best bitch: Good luck today. Not that you need it. x
I blow out a breath as I close down my messages. I wish I had her optimism.
Straightening my spine, I push the car door open, grab my stuff, and head in the direction of Mrs. Hendrix’s office almost an hour before I was expecting to arrive.
* * *
The beginning of the day was great. I got to meet Mrs. Hendrix’s year ten tutor group, which of course included Rhea, who was surprisingly polite and well behaved. Melissa tried to tell me that they were a handful, that she’d been given the more challenging students to mentor, but they were all posh little teddy bears compared to the students of my past.
And then I spent two hours with different members of the English department in a year seven and then a year ten class. The behaviour of the students in both were exemplary, the teaching fantastic and inspiring. I found myself drawn into the lessons more than once in both of them.
Not having to worry about what the students are doing every five seconds sure frees up time to dive deeper into subjects than I’ve previously been able to.
I’m so lost helping the year tens write sonnets that the bell ringing through the ancient hallways outside the room startles me.
The girl I’m sitting next to laughs before she begins packing away her books and the teacher brings the lesson to a close.