Chapter Text
Although Selene had lowered her laptop screen’s brightness, the classroom’s artificial lights were wreaking havoc on the headache throbbing at her temple. It’s been there since she woke up and stayed there throughout the day. It wasn’t too bad, but it would be a lot more tolerable if it weren’t one of many inconveniences deadset on piling up with every passing minute.
As if she’s jinxed herself, a warning notification for her laptop’s low battery popped up. Cursing, she hurriedly saved her edited worksheet and turned it off. Selene had forgotten her charger, meaning she’ll have to finish it at home tonight.
Due to the monster attacks disrupting school hours, many teachers were forced to redo, rush through, or worse, outright scrap some of their lesson plans so they could cover the syllabus in time. Selene was no exception to this. Of course, any experienced teacher would know full well that no lesson plan is completely foolproof, but no education degree programme could’ve considered preparing them for magical monster attacks as a factor.
Ah well, that’s Norrisville for you. Plus, teaching kids monster drills took priority over training programmes.
Selene ran a hand over her face. Once she finalizes this, she’ll have to print them herself because three weeks ago, a stanked monster had thrown the photostat machine through the roof, and management still hasn’t replaced it. And that’s assuming her outdated device will start up - does she even have enough paper for this?
‘I should’ve gone to Flackville.’ She bemoaned.
Slamming her laptop shut with more force than necessary, she took her glasses off and pinched the bridge of her nose.
Just 5 minutes, no, 1, just 1 minute of peace is all she asks for.
Eyes closed, she became acutely aware of the ticking clock on her wall. The hands always moved louder than they should, despite being perpetually 5 to 10 minutes out of sync. Oddly enough, the consistent, rhythmic ticking was a balm to her headache.
Tick…..tick…..tick…..tick-
A series of raps on the door interrupted the pattern. Outside, it was knuckle on wood. Inside Selene’s skull, nails were being hammered through her nerve endings. Resisting the urge to scream (or worse, strangle whoever walked through that door), she put her glasses back on and straightened up.
“Come in.” she said more curtly than intended.
“Heeeeeey, Ms. Night!” Randy greeted, chipper despite the nasty shiner under his eye. The staff had mentioned today’s stanked monster packing a punch, looks like it was horribly literal rather than metaphorical.
“Randy. Here to turn in yesterday’s homework?” she really hopes he is because she could only extend his deadlines so far before someone cries favouritism.
“Oh, right, right, uh, gimme a sec.” she watched as he haphazardly balanced a full cup of steaming coffee in one hand while the other rummaged through his bag, stray pieces of journal paper, pencils nearly falling out in the process.
(Selene dutifully did not stare at the “Math” textbook taking up the bulk of the bag’s space. She also did not show any outward expression when the pages briefly glowed red.)
“Gotcha! Here you go, teach.” Randy triumphantly slapped the homework onto the desk. She’s learned not to question the suspicious ichor-black stain on the corners.
“Thank you, Randy. Will that be all?” Randy was a good kid, really, but Selene really wasn’t in the mood for chitchat unless necessary.
“Well, I also wanted to give you this.” Selene blinked as Randy placed the coffee on her desk.
Selene raised a brow. “Is this a bribe?”
“What? No, I’m wounded, Ms. Night.” Randy pouted. “Nah, it’s just a pick-me-up. You looked…..tired. Well, more tired than usual.”
Forget bloodhounds; they should be using teenagers to sniff out weaknesses. Still, it warmed Selene’s heart that her student was not only perceptive enough to notice but kind enough to do something about it.
“Thanks, Randy.” She smiled. “You go home and get some rest, yeah?” and some frozen peas for that shiner, her pointed glance added.
“Will do, Ms. Night.” Randy cheekily saluted. With a wave, the gangly boy was out the door, leaving Selene alone with the inaccurate clock ticking and a cup of warm coffee.
Cradling the Styrofoam cup, she blew on the beverage. Randy’s chugged enough energy drinks to put a grown man into cardiac arrest, but a caffeine expert he was not. This was definitely cheap vending machine stuff, with the colour, consistency and possibly taste of diesel oil. Still, it was warm, and she relished in that lone sensation to sweep away the mental and physical aches.
She’ll buy more paper on the way home, brew herself a proper warm beverage, finish those worksheets and stuff her face with Japanese takeout on her couch before hitting the hay.
Tossing away the empty cup, Selene gathered her things and left the classroom to do just that, slightly more energised than before.