**Officially published as Clique Bait with HarperTeen!**
Payment is usually a part of a basic transaction. You give and then you take. But, at Arlington Preparatory, people take at their leisure. They take their entertainment in the form of humiliat...
It is with much regret that I am writing to you. As Chloe's physics teacher, I continue to grow increasingly concerned with her ability to complete assessments to a high standard, as is expected of her with her affinity for mathematics and science.
Chloe failed the topic four test after resitting it, and her most recent assessments have achieved average marks, if not a little worse. In the wake of her loss, I think it's best to set up a meeting so we can consider her options together. I fear that if this trend is to continue she will be letting her future down severely.
I'm concerned that she's found the wrong crowd, and as much as she is as an asset to this school, I'm beginning to ponder whether a fresh start might be a good option for her as an individual.
Please email be back when you can, I'll try calling again tomorrow.
Regards,
Ms Neal
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"Chloe."
The words were murmured against my neck, his breath teasing the sensitivity of my skin, pulling goosebumps into position and making the tiny hairs stand up straight. I sighed and nuzzled closer, the warmth entrapping me in whatever dream had enthralled my mind.
"Chloe, your phone's ringing," he said again, this time rendering some response as I shifted, my mind slowly grappling the situation.
"Oh, shit," I said rather unflatteringly as I rubbed my face. I'd fallen asleep as we watched the footage. "Did I miss anything?"
William looked amused. He handed me my mobile which was vibrating. "Nothing interesting, it's only been twenty minutes or so. But you better answer this.
I squinted at him for a moment, still not completely awake, before realizing it was my mom's name flashing on the screen.
"Shit," I repeated before swiping across the screen just in time. I scooped the phone into my hand and shifted off of the bed, walking down the hall and out of earshot. "Hello?"
"Chloe," Mom said on the other end of the line, her voice sounding a little off. "Oh, Chloe, I'm so sorry I didn't call earlier, it's just—"
Her voice trailed off into a series of giggles—from what sounded like at least one other person too. I realized what was so off in her voice. She was drunk.
"Mom?"
"Sorry, sweetheart. I just needed to call and let you know I won't be coming home tonight, I've had a little bit too much to drink and I don't want to have to catch a cab home from your Grandparents."
She laughed again. I bit my lip. It was almost eleven.
"There's food in the fridge," she continued, her voice giddy and high. "Help yourself!"
