Take you down the faculty elevator

“Escort? To class?” You ask in confusion.

Ms. Pershing leaned forward over her desk. Repositioning herself so her breasts weren’t jabbing into the desk’s edge. Unfortunately, that left your eyes with competition between her eyes and a cleavage to die for. “You don’t have to pretend that the halls during passing period aren’t hellish. I’ll take you down the faculty elevator and make your trip a little easier. Since I’m faculty, I can allow a student to travel with me. But only if they’re with an employee.” She explains.

“Ah. Ok.” You follow her out the door. The click of her high heels dominating the lively hallway gives you shudders. Finally, at the end of the hall, you are met with the window of the third floor and the metal doors of the elevator. Five seconds or so passes between the principal hitting the button and the doors opening to an admittedly pretty roomy elevator. You look at the principal, beckoning you in. “Now I see how you all get around so fast.” You enter the elevator cabin, followed closely by another figure. You stare at the wooden interior design, flat carpeted floor, and a small, narrow window in the middle of one of the sides. In the reflection, you look back to the other person, jolting as you realize it’s not the principal. “Ah!” You briefly scream. You look at Ms. Hemlock, your math teacher.

“Good morning.” She says in monotone, unphased by your tone.

“Good morning to you too.” Pershing says in response, pressing the elevator’s button. The doors close and the two women start conversation as a slow whirring started. “Jeez. Sure is a scorcher today.” You look out the window as if you needed more proof of how hot today was gonna get. You could already feel it seeping in. You had been since getting to school.

“It sure is.” Hemlock agreed, loosening her collar, her tie sliding down a bit. “Just glad to have air conditioning in my room.”

“Yeah. Enjoy it while you can. I’m not sure if your new one will have that.” She said. That’s right. You totally forgot she was switching to physical education next year. Not the physical part of it, god forbid, but the textbook.

Suddenly, the whole thing shook to a stop. “What’s this?” You heard Ms. Pershing say concerningly.