((Bridget Connolly continued from Looking For Something?))
Exams. What an ugly word. That single five letter word had to be by far, the worst word in the English Language, and probably every other language out there. Bridget wasn't too concerned with many of her courses. She loved history, and had a fairly good grasp of English, not to mention her night courses as well. However, there was one course that no matter how much she tried, no matter how many hours she spent working on the course work, she could not grasp it. Quite possibly the only word in the English language that was worse than Exams.
Math.
The Irish girl had her text book open, staring at the jumble of numbers and letters on the page. She very much preferred back in the good old days, before someone had the bright idea to introduce letters into math. Math was numbers, English was letters. There was no reason to mess with the status quo, but noooooo, they couldn't leave well enough alone and just had to add letters to math. Mentally chiding herself to stop her whining, Bridget leaned over her work, not making much sense of what she was reading, and silently protesting the whole time while her pencil scribbled furiously on her paper.
Crunch Time
(debut of Tiffany)
This is such a waste of my time. Tiffany thought smugly, Time for my big entrance to catch any boys for some "help".
Tiffany grasped her designer bookbag as she sauntered into the library. Waving her hair in her practiced manner, she looked to see if anyone was watching. But, there was hardly anyone in the library, and few that there were were out of sight, behind the bookshelves.
Bah, wasted. Tiffany thought, looking around. I'll just go find some helpless bookworm who'll be so impressed they'll jump at the chance to do my mathermatics homework for me while I dazzle them.
Tiffany spotted another female student, the closest one to the entrance. She was bent over her book.
"Oh My Gawd, look at her outfit!" Tiffany sneered to herself, "She must shop at some two-bit boutique at the mall. Poor, helpless, ugly duckling. Such a nerd, too, look at the way she's bent over that book! She's perfect. I'll make her feel like she's helping a princess! Which she is," Tiffany added, brushing her hair back behind her head "after all."
Tiffany grinned, put on the happiest face she could, and walked over to Bridget, plopping her bag on the desk besides her.
"Hiiiii." Tiffany grinned, leaning over Bridget's shoulder. "Are you doing math homework? I need some help. Can we do it together? Thanks!"
Before Bridget could even respond, Tiffany sat down besides her and opened her book.
This is such a waste of my time. Tiffany thought smugly, Time for my big entrance to catch any boys for some "help".
Tiffany grasped her designer bookbag as she sauntered into the library. Waving her hair in her practiced manner, she looked to see if anyone was watching. But, there was hardly anyone in the library, and few that there were were out of sight, behind the bookshelves.
Bah, wasted. Tiffany thought, looking around. I'll just go find some helpless bookworm who'll be so impressed they'll jump at the chance to do my mathermatics homework for me while I dazzle them.
Tiffany spotted another female student, the closest one to the entrance. She was bent over her book.
"Oh My Gawd, look at her outfit!" Tiffany sneered to herself, "She must shop at some two-bit boutique at the mall. Poor, helpless, ugly duckling. Such a nerd, too, look at the way she's bent over that book! She's perfect. I'll make her feel like she's helping a princess! Which she is," Tiffany added, brushing her hair back behind her head "after all."
Tiffany grinned, put on the happiest face she could, and walked over to Bridget, plopping her bag on the desk besides her.
"Hiiiii." Tiffany grinned, leaning over Bridget's shoulder. "Are you doing math homework? I need some help. Can we do it together? Thanks!"
Before Bridget could even respond, Tiffany sat down besides her and opened her book.
Gah, none of this makes ANY damn sense! Bridget screamed in her head, staring at the question she was working on. "solve for X" they say. Why the hell can't they just tell me what X is? That'd be like telling my that the Germans and Russians fought in Stalingrad at X date, then telling me to solve for X. You just. Don't. Do. I- The young girl's train of thought was cut off by a shrill voice in her ear asking for help with math homework.
"I'm not the o-" This time is was Bridget's voice that was cut off as the other girl sat down anyways, flipping her book open. As far as she could figure, she didn't know who this girl was, or if she did, she just blocked her out of her conscious. Girls like this were the type that annoyed the red haired girl to no end, and if she could help it, she stayed as far away from them as possible. This one didn't seem to be going away on her own, so it would appear that Bridget would have to give her a subtle push in the right direction.
"Ummm..." Bridget began, fishing for the words in her head and placing them in the proper order. "I'm not really... good at math, so you might want to find someone else to help you. Maybe you know, over there somewhere." she pointed in the general direction of a rather portly looking boy, probably grade 10 or 11, but at the same time could probably give this other girl the help she required. Anything to get her out of her hair so she could go back to killing her braincells with the incomprehensible jumble on the book in front of her.
"I'm not the o-" This time is was Bridget's voice that was cut off as the other girl sat down anyways, flipping her book open. As far as she could figure, she didn't know who this girl was, or if she did, she just blocked her out of her conscious. Girls like this were the type that annoyed the red haired girl to no end, and if she could help it, she stayed as far away from them as possible. This one didn't seem to be going away on her own, so it would appear that Bridget would have to give her a subtle push in the right direction.
"Ummm..." Bridget began, fishing for the words in her head and placing them in the proper order. "I'm not really... good at math, so you might want to find someone else to help you. Maybe you know, over there somewhere." she pointed in the general direction of a rather portly looking boy, probably grade 10 or 11, but at the same time could probably give this other girl the help she required. Anything to get her out of her hair so she could go back to killing her braincells with the incomprehensible jumble on the book in front of her.
Tiffany smiled at the girl, hearing her reply but waving it off.
"Silly!" Tiffany giggled, not even bothering to look in the direction she was pointing,
"You look totally smart and stuff. I'm Tiffany, by the way. You might have, like, heard of me?"
Tiffany gave the girl a closer lookover, searching for something she could compliment her on.
"And I LOVE your red hair." Tiffany noted, "What do you use to keep it looking like that?"
"Silly!" Tiffany giggled, not even bothering to look in the direction she was pointing,
"You look totally smart and stuff. I'm Tiffany, by the way. You might have, like, heard of me?"
Tiffany gave the girl a closer lookover, searching for something she could compliment her on.
"And I LOVE your red hair." Tiffany noted, "What do you use to keep it looking like that?"
If I look smart, then this girl needs to get her eyes checked. Bridget thought to herself. The annoying girl prattled on, introducing herself, and of course, everyone just had to know who she was. Bridget could honestly say that no, she didn't know who she was. Probably because upon seeing her, she just labeled her under "pretentious bitch", and got on with her life. Oh well, no harm, no foul. Time to get on with her li-wait, did she just ask about her hair?
Admittedly, Bridget was rather fond of her hair. She had kept things simple that day, being content with bundling the mass of fiery hair into a single bun on the back of her head, probably measuring about five or six inches in diameter. Of course, the majority of her hair was perpetually damp, which could be a pain in the neck... literally. Plus the fact that it took her upwards of four hours in the morning to get ready, much to the annoyance of her family, and especially her sister. despite the countless times people told her to cut her hair, it wasn't happening. Scissors hadn't touched her hair in ten years, and she planned on keeping it that way.
Not that she planned on telling Tiffany any of this. "None of your business," she said rather bluntly. The time for nicety was long overdue. "I can't help you with your work. I can barely do this work myself. Find someone else."
Admittedly, Bridget was rather fond of her hair. She had kept things simple that day, being content with bundling the mass of fiery hair into a single bun on the back of her head, probably measuring about five or six inches in diameter. Of course, the majority of her hair was perpetually damp, which could be a pain in the neck... literally. Plus the fact that it took her upwards of four hours in the morning to get ready, much to the annoyance of her family, and especially her sister. despite the countless times people told her to cut her hair, it wasn't happening. Scissors hadn't touched her hair in ten years, and she planned on keeping it that way.
Not that she planned on telling Tiffany any of this. "None of your business," she said rather bluntly. The time for nicety was long overdue. "I can't help you with your work. I can barely do this work myself. Find someone else."
Tiffany paused at the girl's reaction. What could possibly be the matter? She had just mentioned one of her better assets (in Tiffany's opinion) and she seemed to lock up on the matter. And now she was pushing her away? That didn't make any sense at all.
"What's her problem? Something isn't right." Tiffany wondered to herself. "There must be something going on here. "
Taken aback a little, Tiffany relaxed a little in her seat to buy a little time to think. She opened her bag to put her books back in.
"It can't be math, even if she is hopeless at it and no use to me" Tiffany thought quickly, grabbing her textbooks one by one, "she shouldn't make this sort of a fuss over it. It couldn't be ME, I've only been nice to her."
Just as the last book went into her back, it struck her.
Boy troubles. Of course.
"Look, Ginger, can I call you Ginny?" Tiffany said, looking concerned, "You seem kind of stressed out, you know? You'll get wrinkles! Listen if some guy out there isn't treating you right, you should dump him to the kerb, you know? Men are only good for a few things, after all, and one of those is making sure they make us feel special, like the princesses we are. He should be taking you out to restaurants and showering you with gifts to show his appreciation of you."
"Or," Tiffany added, a grin creeping across her face, "Maybe your trouble is the lack of boy trouble. You don't have to be embarrassed around me, Ginny. I have had a few boyfriends in my time and they've all treated me very nicely. You're not one of those "waiting for the right guy" types are you? Oh My Gawd, you'll never learn anything like that!"
Tiffany giggled, looking Bridget over. Maybe in some better clothing, she could look quite nice! Tiffany imagined to herself Then some tips on how to walk and what to say, and this girl will be on a one-way trip to happiness.
"What's her problem? Something isn't right." Tiffany wondered to herself. "There must be something going on here. "
Taken aback a little, Tiffany relaxed a little in her seat to buy a little time to think. She opened her bag to put her books back in.
"It can't be math, even if she is hopeless at it and no use to me" Tiffany thought quickly, grabbing her textbooks one by one, "she shouldn't make this sort of a fuss over it. It couldn't be ME, I've only been nice to her."
Just as the last book went into her back, it struck her.
Boy troubles. Of course.
"Look, Ginger, can I call you Ginny?" Tiffany said, looking concerned, "You seem kind of stressed out, you know? You'll get wrinkles! Listen if some guy out there isn't treating you right, you should dump him to the kerb, you know? Men are only good for a few things, after all, and one of those is making sure they make us feel special, like the princesses we are. He should be taking you out to restaurants and showering you with gifts to show his appreciation of you."
"Or," Tiffany added, a grin creeping across her face, "Maybe your trouble is the lack of boy trouble. You don't have to be embarrassed around me, Ginny. I have had a few boyfriends in my time and they've all treated me very nicely. You're not one of those "waiting for the right guy" types are you? Oh My Gawd, you'll never learn anything like that!"
Tiffany giggled, looking Bridget over. Maybe in some better clothing, she could look quite nice! Tiffany imagined to herself Then some tips on how to walk and what to say, and this girl will be on a one-way trip to happiness.
The girl just wouldn't go away. Not only that, she was still talking. Bridget wasn't sure how much more pointless chatter she could take an- did she just call her Ginger? Oh no she didn't. Not even her sisters caller her that. To add insult to injury, Tiffany began to prattle on about boys. Ugh. So not only could she not take a hint, and had a really annoying voice, she was also the type that thought you can't be happy unless you have a glorified slab of meat at your beck and call.
Bridget waited for Tiffany to finish talking, calmly closing her books and putting her pencil down. Standing up from her seat, she placed the books into her messenger bag. She had half a mind to just up and leave right there, but her vindictive side was getting the better of her. Sure, leaving right now would be the high road, but she didn't want to take the high road.
"Look, Tiffany was it?" Bridget began, her piercing green eyes looking directly into Tiffany's. "Any problems I have are my own, and I'm sure as hell not going to tell someone I just met what those problems are, least of all a stuck up, spoiled little brat like you. If you must know, I am perfectly happy with my life, I don't need someone like.... like you telling me how to live it. There are no boy problems, I don't care if I get wrinkles, hell I think wrinkles are the least of my problems when it comes to my face." here she pointed to the scar that ran just over her right eyebrow. "If you really meant well, then you would have left me alone when I asked you to. Now I'm telling you, I can't help you, leave me alone. Finally, don't. Call. Me. A ginger."
Bridget took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Part of her wanted to leave at that moment, but another wanted to stick around and see how this played out. The latter won.
Bridget waited for Tiffany to finish talking, calmly closing her books and putting her pencil down. Standing up from her seat, she placed the books into her messenger bag. She had half a mind to just up and leave right there, but her vindictive side was getting the better of her. Sure, leaving right now would be the high road, but she didn't want to take the high road.
"Look, Tiffany was it?" Bridget began, her piercing green eyes looking directly into Tiffany's. "Any problems I have are my own, and I'm sure as hell not going to tell someone I just met what those problems are, least of all a stuck up, spoiled little brat like you. If you must know, I am perfectly happy with my life, I don't need someone like.... like you telling me how to live it. There are no boy problems, I don't care if I get wrinkles, hell I think wrinkles are the least of my problems when it comes to my face." here she pointed to the scar that ran just over her right eyebrow. "If you really meant well, then you would have left me alone when I asked you to. Now I'm telling you, I can't help you, leave me alone. Finally, don't. Call. Me. A ginger."
Bridget took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Part of her wanted to leave at that moment, but another wanted to stick around and see how this played out. The latter won.
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armeggedonCounselor*
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
((Introduction of Kayla McArthur))
Kayla entered the quiet library, glancing around to see who was inside. She carried her math book and her laptop, although the laptop was in a case. She noticed a pair of girls who appeared to have either just started or just finished a heated discussion. Curiosity gripped her despite her trepidation at approaching two people she hardly knew, although she at least had heritage in common with the red haired one. She sat at a table near the two so she could eavesdrop with ease. To hide the fact that she was eavesdropping, she opened her computer and opened her word processor. Although she had an English paper that was due in two days, she continued to put it off and instead opened her most recent story. It was about a number of mental hospital patients who were taken on a field trip, to stimulate their recovery. However, they were kidnapped by a group of government officials who put them on a mountain in the Canadian Rockies, and told them that they had to work together to survive. She was about to write the climax, wherein a horrible blizzard and avalanche strike at the same time, and the two hyper-aggressive Histrionic personality disordered patients have to work together to build a shelter, or everyone will die. It was very good, if she did think so herself.
Kayla entered the quiet library, glancing around to see who was inside. She carried her math book and her laptop, although the laptop was in a case. She noticed a pair of girls who appeared to have either just started or just finished a heated discussion. Curiosity gripped her despite her trepidation at approaching two people she hardly knew, although she at least had heritage in common with the red haired one. She sat at a table near the two so she could eavesdrop with ease. To hide the fact that she was eavesdropping, she opened her computer and opened her word processor. Although she had an English paper that was due in two days, she continued to put it off and instead opened her most recent story. It was about a number of mental hospital patients who were taken on a field trip, to stimulate their recovery. However, they were kidnapped by a group of government officials who put them on a mountain in the Canadian Rockies, and told them that they had to work together to survive. She was about to write the climax, wherein a horrible blizzard and avalanche strike at the same time, and the two hyper-aggressive Histrionic personality disordered patients have to work together to build a shelter, or everyone will die. It was very good, if she did think so herself.
Tiffany's eyes narrowed, matching Bridget's glare. She grew increasingly angry as Bridget kept talking. A spoilt brat? Her? The nerve! How dare this girl she had been trying to help insult her so.
"Right," Tiffany fumed, "I'll show her. No more Miss Nice Girl."
Tiffany looked quickly at where she was. Around a bookcase at the desk was not a good place for this, not where she couldn't be seen.
"Ah, this will work nicely," Tiffany smirked to herself, a plan forming in her head. She took a small step back, moving her way closer to the entrance so as to be seen by the front desk.
Tiffany grinned. Now for a little push.
"Oh, I'm SO sorry, Ginny. What should I call you then? Walmart?" Tiffany hissed, keeping her voice low so no one else would hear, "No wonder you have no boy trouble; combined with the scar, they'd never look at you."
Tiffany took another step, moving into place. "Actually," Tiffany giggled sarcastically, leaning in close, "maybe its not "boy" problems at all. It wouldn't surprise me. I should be calling you an Ugly Dyk...."
"Right," Tiffany fumed, "I'll show her. No more Miss Nice Girl."
Tiffany looked quickly at where she was. Around a bookcase at the desk was not a good place for this, not where she couldn't be seen.
"Ah, this will work nicely," Tiffany smirked to herself, a plan forming in her head. She took a small step back, moving her way closer to the entrance so as to be seen by the front desk.
Tiffany grinned. Now for a little push.
"Oh, I'm SO sorry, Ginny. What should I call you then? Walmart?" Tiffany hissed, keeping her voice low so no one else would hear, "No wonder you have no boy trouble; combined with the scar, they'd never look at you."
Tiffany took another step, moving into place. "Actually," Tiffany giggled sarcastically, leaning in close, "maybe its not "boy" problems at all. It wouldn't surprise me. I should be calling you an Ugly Dyk...."
(GMing oked by Danetrix)
Bridget's frown gave way to a smirk as the change on Tiffany's face happened. Oh things were about to get good the red haired girl thought to herself. Of all the people who Bridget had met in her life, none had annoyed the hell out of her more than the girl standing in front of her at this very moment. Her right hand curled itself into a fist, the only indication of the Irish girl's feelings on her otherwise apathetic looking frame.
"...I should be calling you an Ugly Dyk-"
WHACK.
Bridget's temper finally got the better of her at that point. Before Tiffany could even finish that final word, her right hand was already in motion, her open palm landing flush on the other girl's cheek, cutting off her little speech. The smile faltered, replaced by an expression of utter contempt. Any one who attempted to use sexual orientation to attack someone had no room for compassion in the redhead's eyes. She was just lucky they were in a public place. Heck, the slap alone would probably get her in trouble, but she didn't care at that moment.
"If you value your pretty little face the way it is..." Bridget said in a quiet, menacing tone that only Tiffany would hear. "You will leave. Right. Now. And if I were you, I would hope, that you don't run into me again. You've been warned."
Bridget's frown gave way to a smirk as the change on Tiffany's face happened. Oh things were about to get good the red haired girl thought to herself. Of all the people who Bridget had met in her life, none had annoyed the hell out of her more than the girl standing in front of her at this very moment. Her right hand curled itself into a fist, the only indication of the Irish girl's feelings on her otherwise apathetic looking frame.
"...I should be calling you an Ugly Dyk-"
WHACK.
Bridget's temper finally got the better of her at that point. Before Tiffany could even finish that final word, her right hand was already in motion, her open palm landing flush on the other girl's cheek, cutting off her little speech. The smile faltered, replaced by an expression of utter contempt. Any one who attempted to use sexual orientation to attack someone had no room for compassion in the redhead's eyes. She was just lucky they were in a public place. Heck, the slap alone would probably get her in trouble, but she didn't care at that moment.
"If you value your pretty little face the way it is..." Bridget said in a quiet, menacing tone that only Tiffany would hear. "You will leave. Right. Now. And if I were you, I would hope, that you don't run into me again. You've been warned."
((Librarian intervention by request of thread participants))
Mrs. Collins was, as usual, reorganizing the shelves. To some, the Dewey Decimal System was an incomprehensible nightmare, but, to Bayview's librarian, it was a thing of beauty. Every day she resorted the shelves, making sure each book was exactly in its place. Every day, things were incorrectly rearranged, lost, or otherwise disrupted. It was a never ending cycle, a battle waged between the forces of entropy and order, with Mrs. Collins as the first line of defense against the system's decay.
There were more manners of disruption than those directly related to the books, though. The library was more than a book depository, more than a place. It was a state of mind, and one that was not at all conducive to loud and unfriendly interruption. Mrs. Collins didn't hear what started the argument between the two girls, but she did hear the escalation. She heard the insults begin to fly, and knew that she had another battle to wage for the stability of the library.
She rounded the shelves, a volume of Chaucer forgotten in her hands, just in time to watch the climax of the exchange. It was not new to her, not a surprise. She'd seen exactly this sort of thing dozens of times in her long career. It hardly even caused her to raise an eyebrow. Kids these days were so willing to resort to thuggish behavior to prove their points and defend their honor.
Mrs. Collins swooped over to the two girls, mustering her stern voice, the one she used most often with the student populace.
"Good heavens," she said. "Ms. Connolly, such behavior, and in a library nonetheless. I expected so much more of you."
In reality, Mrs. Collins only remembered Bridget's name because of her distinctive hair. There were far too many students for her to keep track of them all, but she tried to pretend otherwise when she could. It kept them on their toes.
"And you," she said, turning to Tiffany, "Such language. It is completely inappropriate for a place of knowledge—oh, and are you hurt?"
Returning her gaze to Bridget she continued, "You will leave this library at once, young lady. Such behavior is completely unacceptable. I may be forced to have a word with Principal Kendrick on this matter. You can expect some detention in the future, at the very least. Fighting in a library. Honestly."
She waved Bridget away, shutting the girl out of her mind completely. She probably would not really report the incident, given that it seemed to have sprung from mutual antagonism, and, moreover, since doing so might take her away from her shelves for large amounts of time to testify pointlessly on the matter. If Tiffany was alright—which she probably was, a slap couldn't possibly be so bad, could it?—she likely wouldn't be too eager to have the affair exposed either, given her own less-than-flattering role.
Of course, Mrs. Collins had not heard Bridget's final words in the exchange, nor had she even registered the presence of Kayla.
Mrs. Collins was, as usual, reorganizing the shelves. To some, the Dewey Decimal System was an incomprehensible nightmare, but, to Bayview's librarian, it was a thing of beauty. Every day she resorted the shelves, making sure each book was exactly in its place. Every day, things were incorrectly rearranged, lost, or otherwise disrupted. It was a never ending cycle, a battle waged between the forces of entropy and order, with Mrs. Collins as the first line of defense against the system's decay.
There were more manners of disruption than those directly related to the books, though. The library was more than a book depository, more than a place. It was a state of mind, and one that was not at all conducive to loud and unfriendly interruption. Mrs. Collins didn't hear what started the argument between the two girls, but she did hear the escalation. She heard the insults begin to fly, and knew that she had another battle to wage for the stability of the library.
She rounded the shelves, a volume of Chaucer forgotten in her hands, just in time to watch the climax of the exchange. It was not new to her, not a surprise. She'd seen exactly this sort of thing dozens of times in her long career. It hardly even caused her to raise an eyebrow. Kids these days were so willing to resort to thuggish behavior to prove their points and defend their honor.
Mrs. Collins swooped over to the two girls, mustering her stern voice, the one she used most often with the student populace.
"Good heavens," she said. "Ms. Connolly, such behavior, and in a library nonetheless. I expected so much more of you."
In reality, Mrs. Collins only remembered Bridget's name because of her distinctive hair. There were far too many students for her to keep track of them all, but she tried to pretend otherwise when she could. It kept them on their toes.
"And you," she said, turning to Tiffany, "Such language. It is completely inappropriate for a place of knowledge—oh, and are you hurt?"
Returning her gaze to Bridget she continued, "You will leave this library at once, young lady. Such behavior is completely unacceptable. I may be forced to have a word with Principal Kendrick on this matter. You can expect some detention in the future, at the very least. Fighting in a library. Honestly."
She waved Bridget away, shutting the girl out of her mind completely. She probably would not really report the incident, given that it seemed to have sprung from mutual antagonism, and, moreover, since doing so might take her away from her shelves for large amounts of time to testify pointlessly on the matter. If Tiffany was alright—which she probably was, a slap couldn't possibly be so bad, could it?—she likely wouldn't be too eager to have the affair exposed either, given her own less-than-flattering role.
Of course, Mrs. Collins had not heard Bridget's final words in the exchange, nor had she even registered the presence of Kayla.
Ugh. Even though she knew it was coming, that still didn't stop Tiffany feeling the sharp slap on her face and Bridget snapped. Her hand went to her cheek, instinctively, but she kept the grin on her face.
"That's right, keep talking, bitch." Tiffany sneered to herself, noticing the teacher coming, "Talk yourself into right out of the library and into detention or worse."
Looking away from the teacher, Tiffany bit down on her cheek and moved her hand to her mouth. She put on her best shocked face for the teacher that was coming around the shelves. She let her eyes water up.
"I-I-I am hurt!" Tiffany stammered, showing the teacher the blood on her hand, "I-I-I can't feel my jaw! I think she damaged it! It was lucky you were here and stopped her, she could've knocked me out!"
While the teacher looked at Bridget and told her off, Tiffany smiled when she heard the words 'detention or worse'. Awesome.
That probably wasn't enough, though. All I have to do is sell it and Ginny is as out of here faster then someone can say 'suspended for a week'. That'll teach her for messing with me. Tiffany calculated, keeping her injured pose and waited for Bridget to be out of hearing range.
"I-I-I was minding my own business when she came out of nowhere, thinking I was cheating on her girlfriend!" Tiffany recounted, keeping the look of shock on her face, "When I told her I only liked boys, she flew into a rage, calling me horrible names and threatened me! I was scared, I couldn't run away and I'm not strong enough to fight back! She's clearly out of control, to hit someone like me like that!"
Tiffany looked at the teacher, faking panic, "She might even be waiting for me after class, or even now!" Tiffany spluttered, "What am I supposed to do? I'm scared to go out there!"
Now, Tiffany thought, for the last nail in the coffin.
"Actually, Mrs Collins, I'm not so worried about me, now that you've come." Tiffany said, faking a sincere smile, "But even if she isn't waiting for me and has figured out her mistake, she's only going to hurt someone else. She's a threat to other students. Surely you wouldn't want some other student to get hurt, Mrs Collins, right?"
"There, that's given her some food for thought," Tiffany thought, sastified with her efforts. "There is no way this teacher will be able to keep this to herself. Straight to the principal."
Thanking the teacher for her help and smiling at herself at a job well done, Tiffany walked over to a table and opened her bag, pulling out some makeup and a small mirror to do some touchups to her face.
"That's right, keep talking, bitch." Tiffany sneered to herself, noticing the teacher coming, "Talk yourself into right out of the library and into detention or worse."
Looking away from the teacher, Tiffany bit down on her cheek and moved her hand to her mouth. She put on her best shocked face for the teacher that was coming around the shelves. She let her eyes water up.
"I-I-I am hurt!" Tiffany stammered, showing the teacher the blood on her hand, "I-I-I can't feel my jaw! I think she damaged it! It was lucky you were here and stopped her, she could've knocked me out!"
While the teacher looked at Bridget and told her off, Tiffany smiled when she heard the words 'detention or worse'. Awesome.
That probably wasn't enough, though. All I have to do is sell it and Ginny is as out of here faster then someone can say 'suspended for a week'. That'll teach her for messing with me. Tiffany calculated, keeping her injured pose and waited for Bridget to be out of hearing range.
"I-I-I was minding my own business when she came out of nowhere, thinking I was cheating on her girlfriend!" Tiffany recounted, keeping the look of shock on her face, "When I told her I only liked boys, she flew into a rage, calling me horrible names and threatened me! I was scared, I couldn't run away and I'm not strong enough to fight back! She's clearly out of control, to hit someone like me like that!"
Tiffany looked at the teacher, faking panic, "She might even be waiting for me after class, or even now!" Tiffany spluttered, "What am I supposed to do? I'm scared to go out there!"
Now, Tiffany thought, for the last nail in the coffin.
"Actually, Mrs Collins, I'm not so worried about me, now that you've come." Tiffany said, faking a sincere smile, "But even if she isn't waiting for me and has figured out her mistake, she's only going to hurt someone else. She's a threat to other students. Surely you wouldn't want some other student to get hurt, Mrs Collins, right?"
"There, that's given her some food for thought," Tiffany thought, sastified with her efforts. "There is no way this teacher will be able to keep this to herself. Straight to the principal."
Thanking the teacher for her help and smiling at herself at a job well done, Tiffany walked over to a table and opened her bag, pulling out some makeup and a small mirror to do some touchups to her face.
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armeggedonCounselor*
- Posts: 190
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Kayla looked up. "Normally I wouldn't intrude Mrs. Collins, but I feel it's necessary at this point. While I was not present for the start of their altercation, I was around to see and hear the last of it. Prior to the slap, Tiffany was encroaching on Bridget's personal space, as well as beginning to insult her," she said with a slight nervousness. If it hadn't been for Tiffany trying to push Bridget into more trouble, she'd not have said anything.
"Furthermore, when Bridget slapped Tiffany, Tiffany had been calling her Ginny. While not a demeaning name in and of itself, it's neither the right name nor an accepted nickname for Bridget. While I failed to hear exactly what was said to cause Bridget to slap Tiffany, I think punishment should be lessened due to Tiffany's own actions pushing her to the edge," Kayla said. She avoided looking at anyone's eyes. The altercation had seemed silly to her, although she decided saying that would be detrimental to her attempt to help.
"Furthermore, when Bridget slapped Tiffany, Tiffany had been calling her Ginny. While not a demeaning name in and of itself, it's neither the right name nor an accepted nickname for Bridget. While I failed to hear exactly what was said to cause Bridget to slap Tiffany, I think punishment should be lessened due to Tiffany's own actions pushing her to the edge," Kayla said. She avoided looking at anyone's eyes. The altercation had seemed silly to her, although she decided saying that would be detrimental to her attempt to help.
Bridget was thankful for the intervention of Mrs. Collins, otherwise she wasn't sure she would have been able to stay her hand from what Tiffany pulled next. The hit wasn't even very hard, but the girl was making it out like she'd just been slugged with a baseball bat. There was some blood, but Bridget knew better than anyone it didn't take much to coax blood out of one's mouth. Just the slightest impact the wrong way made for a bloody mouth. Thankfully another girl piped up to defend her, although Bridget was not in a state of mind to thank her.
While Tiffany put on her grand performance, Bridget calmly picked up the messenger bag she carried with her wherever she went. Throwing the strap diagonally across her body and settling on her left shoulder. Whatever the consequences of her actions were later, the least she could do is follow the request for her to vacate the library. Throwing Tiffany one last death glare while Mrs. Collins wasn't looking, the redheaded young woman walked out the door of the library. As soon as she crossed the threshold and began walking along the hallway, Bridget couldn't help but crack a smile.
God that felt good.
((Bridget Connolly continued elsewhere))
While Tiffany put on her grand performance, Bridget calmly picked up the messenger bag she carried with her wherever she went. Throwing the strap diagonally across her body and settling on her left shoulder. Whatever the consequences of her actions were later, the least she could do is follow the request for her to vacate the library. Throwing Tiffany one last death glare while Mrs. Collins wasn't looking, the redheaded young woman walked out the door of the library. As soon as she crossed the threshold and began walking along the hallway, Bridget couldn't help but crack a smile.
God that felt good.
((Bridget Connolly continued elsewhere))
The girl who had been attacked started explaining the situation to Mrs. Collins, casting Bridget in a very negative light. Of course, every story had two sides, and soon enough another girl was there, standing up for the departed assailant. It was simply too much for Mrs. Collins to process right now. She didn't want to deal with this. She wanted to get back to work on the books, then, when the day was over, drive home, take a nice, hot bubble bath, eat dinner, read something, and go to sleep. Of course, she would probably not sleep well; she always worried about the books being out of order, but it was still better than dealing with this problem.
She decided to take the easy way out.
"Girls," she said, "I'm afraid I didn't see the whole incident. You'll have to take matters up with Principal Kendrick yourself, and make a complaint. I'm sure he'll get to the bottom of this, after speaking with everyone involved."
Principal Kendrick was a stern man who took a very active role in maintaining the peace at Bayview Secondary School. Most students were eager to avoid having much to do with the man. Referring these ones to him would hopefully make the problem go away, or at least take it off her hands.
"Now," she said, "you may want to have the nurse look at that lip. If you need anything else from me, don't hesitate to call. If the Principal calls me, I will, of course, give a full account of the incident."
That taken care of, Mrs. Collins returned to the shelves, searching for the correct place for the Chaucer.
She decided to take the easy way out.
"Girls," she said, "I'm afraid I didn't see the whole incident. You'll have to take matters up with Principal Kendrick yourself, and make a complaint. I'm sure he'll get to the bottom of this, after speaking with everyone involved."
Principal Kendrick was a stern man who took a very active role in maintaining the peace at Bayview Secondary School. Most students were eager to avoid having much to do with the man. Referring these ones to him would hopefully make the problem go away, or at least take it off her hands.
"Now," she said, "you may want to have the nurse look at that lip. If you need anything else from me, don't hesitate to call. If the Principal calls me, I will, of course, give a full account of the incident."
That taken care of, Mrs. Collins returned to the shelves, searching for the correct place for the Chaucer.