Mrs. Archer Xavier (REWRITING)

Chapter Nine

THE ONE WITH PRINCESS CLASSES

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"I don't know what happened. It's like a word vomit, really. I didn't mean to. It was a defense mechanism," I ramble on and all I got in response was a pat on my shoulder. I frown at her and Heaven just grimaces at me. That's it? I'm toast? Two days in and I'm screwed?

After taking a long sip of her frappe, Joey looks at me intently. "Maybe we got a little into your head," she says, referring to how she and Heaven basically antagonized Archer and his friends before class. That might just be it because I wasn't that interested in the first place.

Like I said, he is hot, that's for sure, but I have other things to settle and it doesn't really have room for his existence.

"Don't worry about it. Maybe he's outgrown his bullying phase," Joey adds as a poor attempt to get me out of my head. "I mean it's not like I humiliated him," I pause, thinking about it for a second. "Intentionally, that is."

"He's been pretty busy lately anyway. He probably forgot about it already," Heaven says, showing me her phone. There were pictures from a party last night. It's Archer with an older man, who I believe might be his dad. Not gonna lie, he's even more attractive in a suit.

This is not good.

I hand her back her phone immediately. "Thanks," I squeak, earning a curious look from the two of them. I don't even like him, I swear. It's Heaven's fault. She put the idea in my head. She invited the possibility into my life.

I spend the rest of the day trying not to think about him but action itself was going against its very goal. I barely know the guy. I don't even want to know him. I know I asked but that's supposedly to be where it ends. Especially when all I found out about him were bad things.

"Are you ready? Open your eyes!" Heaven giggles as she held the door open for the girl's dressing room. It's different from a bathroom. It's a dressing room for this class called Ethics and Etiquette. It's a required elective course with a sequel for next semester called Ethics and Communication.

Archer could use this class—shut up.

"Holy shit," I cussed as I scanned the big room. First things first. It was so clean. It didn't smell like piss, scented e-cigarettes, or weed. I'm not gonna say that out loud though.

This is not even the same as their gym locker room. It is a baby blue colored room with ceiling to floor mirrors on the left side as you enter and instead of toilet stalls, it had 4 rows of dressing room stalls with white curtains as doors on the right. Directly across the door is a marble sink over white drawers, containing toiletries and other hygiene products for our use.

This would have been gone after the first day of class back home.

I could hear my footsteps against the white tiles, but I would also like to note that there is a soft classical music playing in the background. I walk between two rows, snooping more before the other girls come in to get ready for the class. I open a stall and it feels like fitting room in a fancy mall where I can't afford clothes.

The walls are also baby blue with a full length mirror leaning against it. It also has a small table and chair set, and a small cabinet inside, but it still feels roomy.