Believe Me, I'm Lying

:Believe Me, I'm Lying: 8

"What do you mean 'someone like me'?" I responded, mimicking his look. "Remember-"

"You're a teacher, yeah, I got it. Just sign my pass."

With an indignant huff of air, I grabbed the card out of his hand and initialed it quickly. When I went to hand it back to him I "accidentally" let it slip out of my hand. Oliver spoiled my plans by quickly snatching it before it dropped out of his reach. He smirked at me one last time before turning his back on me and leaving the room. A sigh escaped my lips as I watched him leave. Obviously he was going to be no help in the future.

I made my way to the supply room to double check that everything was put away. There was no way I was going to try cooking with my senior class right now after what happened yesterday. To waste some time, I opened every cabinet and began to familiarize myself with the whereabouts of everything.

My eyes landed on a dirty plate and knife by the microwave. I walked over to them with a frown on my face, picking up the dirty dishes. Had someone came in here to cook lunch while I was at lunch? Maybe it was another teacher? I shrugged, putting the plates in the dishwasher that was in the room.

This room was really well equipped. It had an oven, a microwave, a huge refrigerator with a separate, but equally as large, freezer, a twin sink, and plenty of cabinets. The classroom itself was what I expected it to be, maybe a little fancier. Each table had stove tops, mini ovens, and sinks connected them for the student to use. But it must have cost a fortune.

A pile of cookbooks on one of the tables in the supply room caught my attention and I walked over to them, grabbing the first one I touched. Perhaps I could find something new to cook for Will and Elliot while I was waiting for my next class...

The bell signaling the ending of sixth period rang, nearly making me fall off the stool I was now seated on in surprise. I quickly looked around the room to see if I could find anything suitable enough for a bookmark. Some of the meal ideas in this book were great, and I didn't want to lose them. The sound of students entering the room forced me to grab the closest thing to me to use. I stuffed it into the cookbook and shut it, sliding it closer to the table before making my way out of the supply room.

"Is she not here?" I heard someone ask before I stepped out.

"Maybe."

Listening hard, I stayed by the door, waiting to see if they said anything else. Someone laughed, and I heard what sounded like someone running into a desk.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she wasn't here," another person commented. "I bet yesterday she went home crying."

"I'd believe it," the first guy said with a laugh.

I scowled, stepping out of the room now. Immediately I looked for the three who were talking about me. When I located them I gave them the harshest glare I could. They looked back at me in surprise before turning around quickly. I was about to say something to them, but Will's advice popped back into my head. Dropping the scowl, I put a polite smile on my face. Nice. Think nice.

My eyes surveyed the classroom and I found Zak, sitting at front and center with his hands clasped on the desk in front of him, waiting patiently. He smiled at me and I couldn't help but respond to it with a more sincere one of mine. The second bell rang, but no one took his seat. Not like I expected them to... well, not all of them. I expected some to listen. I shot Zak an accusing look, which he understood immediately.

"I can't force them to do anything," he told me with a shrug. "They only always listen to Oliver."

My eye scanned the classroom again and I realized that I didn't see Oliver, or Arden for that matter. I knew they were both here... Were they skipping? I could see Oliver skipping, but not Arden. For a moment, I actually felt disappointed.