Get Help

You don't know know many people in this school, and really just met Fiona, so the only person you can turn to now is Ms. Miller. She is the teacher, after all, it's like, her sworn duty to protect her students... or something like that. Surely there must be something she can do to stop Tiffany from totally destroying your... speaking of which, your stinging ass still hurts, so you give it a gentle rub, apologizing for it's rough treatment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for any of this to happen." You say to your tender cheeks. "How the hell was I supposed to know Tiffany was like that? She seemed so normal!"

"Who are you talking to?" A female voice makes you jump, blushing red.

You turn to see Ms. Miller standing in the doorway, a cup of tea in one hand, a stirring spoon in the other. Her rainbow hair sat fairly haphazardly on her head, she must have taken a shower right after class, and changed into more casual clothes, a white shirt and blue jeans. She gives the liquid a swirl as she makes for her office desk, which, you realize, you had wandered into while you were apologizing to your ass.

"Oh, nobody, Ms. Miller, I was just talking to my... self."

She shrugs, and sits in her chair. "Please, call me Tessa, I'm not teaching right now. How can I help you?"

You take a deep breath. How do you even go about telling her about something like this? How do you explain you need your help in fighting off one of her students? Maybe it would be easier to just move to another state, then at least you'd stand a chance.

"Doug?" She asks, breaking your concentration.

"I... need your help."

"Yes, I gathered that much, normally students don't come by the office unless they need help... of some variety."

"Right, of course..."

“I assume this is about you and Tiffany.” She sits back in her chair, sipping her tea.

Your jaw drops in shock. “How did you…?”

“You know, I had always taken you to be a fairly vanilla boy, Doug. Though, don’t think I haven’t seen you peeking at my particular assets. Since you hadn’t gotten with any other girls, I had always thought maybe you just wanted a slice of teacher, especially since you keep taking my class. Truthfully, I'm not that much older than you are, but now, I see your true colors.” She stares at you through the steam rising off her cup. “She came by earlier today and told me you’re willing to take on the more advanced projects together. It’s very rare to find someone willing to do it. There are only 3 reasons someone like you would agree to it, and you’re not exceedingly interested in theater, so you’re either very brave, or incredibly dirty.”

You couldn’t breathe. Somehow, Tiffany must have known you would come here looking for help. She headed you off, spun some lie that Ms. Miller took, hook, line, and sinker. What did she mean, advanced projects? You opened and shut your jaw a few times, trying to formulate some semblance of language, and you tuned back in to what Ms. Miller was saying.

“... and since you two are a thing now, I thought it fitting to allow it, seeing as how you two can practice outside of class.” She held up a folder with the two of your names on it. “I made sure you two are paired up for the rest of the group projects. Tiffany said you would want to start right away! In fact, I have your first assignment right here!”

She hands you a manila folder full of papers. Dully, you take the folder and stare at its contents. None of the words make any sense to you, but there is a hell of a lot of scene direction, and barely any dialogue.

“Doug, are you alright? You don’t look so good.”

You look up at her, and smile weakly, nodding.

“Well good, here, drink this, it’ll get you started." She hands you a cup of tea, similar to the one she has on her desk. "All great modern actors have a similar habit, tea being my personal preference, though, I suppose you'll develop your own now that you're pursuing acting more... vigorously.”

You take it, and look down at the brown liquid. Your nerves are so on edge, you’d do anything to take the stress level down just a hair.