Cleo was never one to laugh at Arabella.
But seeing her hunched over the toilet bowl and even laughing herself, Cleo couldn't help it.
It was the next morning and Cleo mentally thanked herself for not drinking that much last night. She merely had a deep, dull throbbing in her head but she was content with that after seeing Arabella nearly throw her lungs up.
Men bombarded them with drinks the second they got off the dance floor. They took them all, grateful. Arabella wasn't necessarily a lightweight, she just had different reactions to different drinks. Vodka made her happy, rum made her mad and tequila made her sad. Vodka and tequila then confused her body and she was laughing and crying after a few drinks, and that's when Cleo decided it was time to leave.
It was eight in the morning now and Marcus was still sound asleep in their bed while Cleo held Arabella's hair back and rubbed her back, cracked a few jokes in hopes it'll make her stop crying.
"I feel like a fucking squid,"
"That's specific," Cleo teased, making the girl laugh. Or cry. She couldn't tell. Arabella's phone went off and a second later, Marcus was in the bathroom, holding it out to Arabella.
"Who is that?"
"The school," He said.
Arabella paled, jumped up and rinsed her mouth clean, clearing her throat. "Hello!"
"Hello, miss Jones. We have some news. We're having a meeting today with the investor for the school and also with headquarters. Would it be too much of a bother if you came along? Miss Phillips came down with a nasty cold so we need someone to sit in for her."
Arabella held back a tired sigh as Mrs Taylor, the deputy headmistress of Primrose Primary school. Arabella cleared her throat gently, "That wouldn't be a bother. When do I have to be there?"
"Half an hour, miss Jones,"
Arabella mouthed a string of curse words, vomit burned bright in her throat. She muttered that she'd be there and a quick goodbye before she glassed the phone to Cleo, crouching down at the toilet again as she vomited.
Half an hour later, Arabella was dressed in a white skirt and a light blue blouse, her hair brushed and held behind her head by a clip. She brushed her teeth three times, just to make sure. Cleo did her makeup and left her car for Arabella, no matter how much she protested and said she'd take a cab.
She was sat in front of the school, downing a large flask of water. Her hangover had her by the throat and she wondered if she would even get through this meeting without throwing up.
She saw a few teacher pile into the large white school gates and she took that as a sign that she should get her shit together and make her way inside. And that's what she did. She walked quickly, her short heels clacking on the polished floors of the school yard. The garden was her favourite place to sit and whenever it was lunch, she would sit in the sun, munching on a bag of stale Doritos as she read a book.
She entered the office, greeting Doris, the secretary before she passed by her, making her way to the principals' office. The door was closed and anxiousness brewered in her chest on whether she should knock, just open it, or wait.
She waited.
She scrabbled in her purse for chapstick, completely unaware of the man turning the corner. She found it and applied the cherry lipbalm to her lips, thankful for thr moisture seeping into her chapped lips.
"Hungover?"
She yelped, slapping her hand on her chest. The man rounded her, now standing in front of her and she parted her lips in surprise. Her chest ached suddenly, making her exhale a long, straggle breath.
It was the man from the club last night.
She looked up at him with wide eyes, finally able to see how his features looked. She took his face in, gentle freckles dusted his nose bridge and his hair was neatly combed back, making his sharp cheekbones more prominent. His left eyebrow raised in question at her and that seemed to pull her from her surprised gaze.
"A bit," She managed to get out.
"You should've stayed in bed then,"
She narrowed her eyes at him, opening her mouth to say something but before she could, his intend stare was snapped from her and held to behind her. Just then, the principal came, greeted her in his usual way; annoyed.
She slugged behind them as they walked into the large office. The principal held the door open for them and she watched as he ducked his head as he walked through the door. His height was intimidating to say the least, and so were his face and his hands and everything about him.
The took her seat next to Emily Jurgen, the Mathematics teacher. She wrung her hands together, nervously chewing on her bottom lip. The man stood at the head of the table and the principal took his seat to the right of him.
"Good morning," He greeted, his deep voice echoing in the room. "For those who might not know who I am, my name is Giovanni Armani, and I'm the Head investor of Primrose Primary,"
Rich. Was the first word that flashed in her mind and her face absentmindedly pulled into a frown as she looked up at him. His eyes flashed towards her and the corner of his lip tugged up into an almost grin.
"I called this meeting today in regards to the new term that will be happening after the break. My apologies for calling you all in whilst you're on holiday, but I wanted to get this over and done with, yes?"
Everyone watched him as he spoke and she noticed how he looked like he was basking in the attention, standing up straight and his shoulders back, hands moving as he spoke. His black suit hugged him gracefully, making him look ten times more important.
"As we all know, the heads of the school administration came together last week to discuss the new term. The amount of new students that will be joining each school was their main subject, but it will not be mine."
"It have come to my attention that there is a lack of discipline within the teachers of this school. Now, I'm not calling anyone out, but I have heard word from some people that teachers have been skipping periods to do God knows what,"
Arabella knew she didn't skip, but it made her feel guilty for some reason. Guilt flashed on some of the faces and she looked down at her hands, smiling at their inability to not show their emotions on their faces.
"With the most amount of respect I say this: Do not waste my time nor my money. I funded this school for my love of children. My idea was to teach children the knowledge they needed to grow into smart, driven adults and you would agree with me if I said that if there isn't a teacher to teach, the children will stay children, yes?"
Arabella watched as he opened his hand towards Doris, and she passed him a folder. "I'll be reading a few names off this list and when I say your name, you say what you teach, understand?"
Everyone nodded, and he began: "Everlyn Adams?"
She raised her hand, "Geography for grades five and six,"
He nodded, taking a pen from inside his suit jacket and ticking her name off. "Margaret Barkley?"
The blonde raised her hand, "Spanish and history for grades seven and six," He ticked her name off, and anxiety flooded Arabella's veins as he got closer to her name. "Crystal Matthews?" She raised her hand quickly, lowering it to push up her glasses, "Social studies for grade seven,"
He ticked her name off, his eyes snapping up to Arabella. "Angelina Salt?"
"Life science for seven,"
He nodded, ticking her name. Then, Arabella licked her lips and cleared her throat. "Arabella Jones?"
She lifted her hand, "English for grade three and Italian for grade seven, special classes,"
He tilted his head to the left, "Special classes?"
"Mhm, I do it in my free time,"
He raised his brow, curiosity making the corners of his lips twitch. "You're Italian then?"
"No,"
"I see, how many children attend your class?"
Thinking quickly, she said, "Four from grade seven, nine from grade six and twelve from grade five. But that's just off the top of my head, I could be mistaken,"
"I'll take your word for it,"
She smiled, looking down. He then continued reading off the names, and once he finished, he cleared his throat, putting his hands in his pockets. He made his way over to Crystal and she looked up at him in a way that even made Arabella uncomfortable.
"Miss Crystal, may I ask you something?"
"Sure,"
"Where were you on Tuesday on last week, seventh period? I heard word you weren't in class and without a teacher present, the children got into a fight. Jonathan Kenridge was stabbed with a scissor, he had to get five stitches on his arm."
She paled almost visibly, licking her lips." I-I had to make a call,"
Giovanni nodded, walking back to his spot at the head of the table, "This is what I'm talking about," He started, "Children are children and they need guidance and you are their guardians."
"Did you even notice that there was a child missing from your class? Since was rushed to the hospital?"
"No,"
"No,"He repeated, "I need you to understand that whatever happens in this school, good or bad, will lead back to me,"
"So you're merely here because of your reputation?"
Arabella didn't even know she opened her mouth to speak. She wanted to apologise, tell him she didn't mean anything by it, but the look he gave her told her it was in her best interest to not add on.
"Honestly, yes. My reputation cannot be tainted by teachers who do not want to teach. The children are in my best interest, but so my reputation aswell. You'd say that is a correct balance, would you not?"
"Perhaps, if you were someone like you,"
"Like me? Elaborate, miss Jones,"
"In the public eye, I mean. Your reputation is public but your love and adoration for children are in the shadows, is it not, Mr Armani?"
He smiled then, genuinely, "Perhaps." Was all he said, making the girl nod. He inhaled deeply, her voice had sent bolts of electricity shooting down his spine. He cleared his throat.
"When the break ends, I will be here. I'll be observing how you all teach, how you speak to the children, and how you act. Do not be afraid though, you will not hear a word from me regardless of your performance."
He stood to his full height again, locking his lips. "Thank you for coming in today, your work so far has been noted and it is appreciated."
He nodded to the principal then, and once he stood everyone followed, making their way towards the door. Arabella threw her purse over her shoulder and typed Leo a quick message, telling him she'll be back a little later than she said, she was going into town.
"You're confrontational, I see,"
She looked up, seeing the man lean against the grey school walls. "Only where it is due,"
"And it was due then?"
"Yes. Your reputation should not be the thing that drives you to make this school better for the children."
"It should be my love, yes?"
"Correct."
He nodded, following behind her as she made her way outside. She looked at the garden for a moment and inhaled, the flowers along the footpath bright, contrasting with the cold, Birmingham weather.
"How old are you, if I may ask? You look quite young to be a teacher,"
Arabella couldn't count on her hands the amount of times people had said that to her. She sighed, "I turned twenty a month ago,"
"Christ," He muttered.
"This is merely my learning job. I had a three hour long meeting with the administration before I started and they gave me this job for five months so I could learn the basics from other teachers. Crystal, to be exact. The woman you nearly made cry in there,"
"I'd made a million people cry if that meant that they took better care of the children."
"How noble of you," She muttered. They were now standing next to her car, looking at eachother. "How do you feel about coffee?" He asked.
"It's all right. Makes me jittery though,"
He smiled, "I meant—"
"I know what you meant, Mr Armani. I have a boyfriend,"
He raised his brow, "Oh? I should've expected that, no one looks like you and is single,"
She rolled her eyes, "You're not looking good enough then," She said, pursuing her lips in slight annoyance at him. He shrugged, "Perhaps. Tell your boyfriend you're having coffee with the school's investor regarding your teaching,"
"Will that be all we talk about?"
"Yes, Miss Jones,"
"Call me Bella."
He smirked, making the girl remember who she was talking to. Giovanni Armani was one of the richest and power-hungry men in Birmingham and she only realised it once she heard his name. He owned multiple chains of restaurants all over the city and the world, for that matter. She licked her lips, cracking her knuckles.
"All right. One coffee,"