Lesson by Her [Book 1]

Chapter 5

After a long and arduous day, Dusty wanted nothing more than to leave school behind. Tired of pointless lessons about the liberty bell or correct grammar. None of those things mattered to her. In fact, nothing seemed to matter anymore. She just wanted to lose herself in being Dusty Black, Head Cheerleader.

"A few of us are heading to the mall after school," Cora told her as they walked along the corridor. "You should come." She smiled. "Justin will be there," she teased.

"I can't." Dusty sighed.

"You can't?" Cora raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her best friend.

"I've got detention."

"Oh crap, yeah. I'm sorry, that sucks."

"Mmm."

"Why don't you come along afterwards?" Cora suggested hopefully.

"Can't." Dusty shook her head. "I've got to get back to take care of my brother."

"Where's your mom?" Cora asked.

"In France.".

"In France?" Cora's eyes widened with impressed interest.

"Yeah, Paris, out on a buying trip for Prada," Dusty explained.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot your mom works for Prada," Cora mused. "That's such an awesome job."

"I know."

"You're like, so lucky to have such a cool mom."

"Uh huh."

"My parents are both dentists. How boring is that?" Cora laughed. The girls waved farewell, and then Dusty headed back into the school.

The corridors were clearing as students filtered out to commence their evening. It felt strange to be at school after hours without a club to attend.
It wasn't the first detention Dusty had been given, but it was the first that had fallen outside of school hours.

Most teachers respected her cheerleading responsibilities, and kept her punishments to lunch break, or asked her to do some extracurricular work.

Ms. Quinn had been much harder on her. Dusty didn't doubt that she deserved the detention. She had spoken out of turn. She wouldn't be able to get away with quite as much in her class, and that worried her.

"Miss Black, good evening," Ms. Quinn greeted her as she entered the math classroom.

"There's nothing good about it," Dusty retorted, throwing her backpack down on a nearby desk and settling down. It was eerie to be in the empty classroom. All the neatly lined up desks sat empty, and the room stilled, apart from their breathing.

The late afternoon sunlight spilled through the windows, bathing the room in an ethereal golden glow.

"That's the spirit," Ms. Quinn joked.

"It's always best to be positive about these things." Dusty forced a smile and took out her workbook and pen.

"Before we start work, we need to talk about why you're here," Ms. Quinn said, leaning against her desk rather than sitting behind it, adopting that stance which all young teachers do when they're eager to connect with a student.

Give her a few years and she would sit behind it like all the others, thankful of the barrier it provided.

She is wearing a white sweater and a matching white skirt. Her outfit complimented her dark  hair. and she smelled of vanilla, that sweetly innocent yet subtly sensual scent. She looked good, there was no doubt about it, but Dusty didn't care how she looked. At eighteen, she had almost perfected her apathy towards the same sex.