Blue

Things Are Changing

It's been days now, days since I've had these photos. And days since I've been over to Mary Margaret's, she's called me a few times but I haven't had the guts to answer the phone.

Emma hasn't found out about the photos, obviously. But for some reason I couldn't come to show my face knowing I have these, but just I can't delete them. Because if I do, then I won't ever see them again. And her body is beautiful, she's beautiful. I just can't get rid of them.
As I was scrolling over the pictures, my phone had started to ring. It read, Mary Margaret. I had immediately hit the decline button. Like I said, I couldn't talk to her or show my face, nor to Emma either. I would just feel guilty, as I should. But at that moment it just felt so right.

I got up and made my way down stairs, I was already dressed. So I made some coffee and headed to work. I wasn't as happy as I normally was for work, but that's okay. Hopefully this day will go by faster than I believe it will.

I arrived and went into my classroom, minutes before the first bell rang. I sat down took a sip of my coffee and before I knew it the bell had rung.

Students had started piling in, one after another. I watched as they came in. I got up and wrote a do now on the board, so, when the second bell had rung the students would know what to do.

And that's when it had rung, as soon as I finished writing the do now. The do now today was a question, what inspires you most? I put the chalk down and headed back to my chair. And that's when I heard a knock on my door. I had signaled a student to open it, and in came a blonde. A blonde that looked way too familiar.

"Emma?" I softly questioned.

"Yep, it's me. My mom decided that after not hearing from you for awhile for advice on whether I should be homeschooled or not, she decided to follow through with what she wanted, which was sending me to a public school, this public school. And it's looks to see I've been assigned to your class" she handed me her schedule.

It read, Ms. Mills - AP Literature

I guess since math wasn't her best subject, she had excelled in the English category, which is normal. Now, I have to wake up and look at her everyday? This is going to be hard, I just feel so guilty. But like I said, everything felt so right in the moment, and sometimes it still does.

She had sat down in an empty desk, right in the front of the classroom. Can this get any harder for me? I got up and walked around the room to check on the students do nows and to see how far they had gotten. Most were almost done, and some haven't even started yet.

"E-Emma" it was hard to even pronounce her name right now, without feeling some type of way. "I suggest you start the do now" I had pointed over to the board, where it read the do now.

I saw her take out a notebook and start writing. I had walked over and tried to get a sneak at what she was reading, but I couldn't, her head and body was basically covering all that she was writing. I wonder what she was writing about, or who.

"Time's up" I said and everyone had looked up at me, including Emma. And I had immediately looked away from her side of the room.

I collected their notebooks, as I did all the time to see what they wrote and took them back to my desk.

"You'll be working on a worksheet, while I look at these" I handed out the worksheets to everyone and headed back to my desk.

I had looked through many notebooks before I got to Emma's. This was the one I was most excited about, I wanted to know what she wrote about.

I had opened her notebook and read,

What inspires me most, is people who know how to keep their head up high even through the roughest of times. Even when they're knocked down so low, and they still get back up. That's inspiring.

It wasn't too much read, but it was interesting, the way she thought.

The class had soon enough come to an end. Papers were handed into me, and the class left. I still couldn't get over the fact that Emma went to this school. And maybe if I would've just answered that phone those other days then well, I wouldn't have to be faced with this. I wouldn't have to feel guilty seeing her everyday. But then again, I have to remember it's my fault I feel this way.

The day went by pretty slow, I just couldn't wait to call Mary Margaret so I could try to convince her this isn't the place for Emma and that she should be homeschooled.

Only a few more minutes until I let this class out, and I would have a break.

And eventually, the class had come to an end. I pulled out my phone as the students walked out and I called Mary Margaret.

"Hello" I heard Mary say threw the phone. "I missed you Regina! We haven't talked in ages" She said with a sigh.

"Hey" I sighed through the phone. "Uh, how'd you decide to send Emma to public school?" I questioned.

"I just thought maybe she should try it out, and since you're there I thought she would feel more comfortable" Mary stated.

Only if she knew what I had on my phone, and what pictures I had. Would she still feel safe and comfortable?

"Oh, well if you want my opinion" I breathed in. "I don't think it's best for her to go here"

"Oh, why?" Mary questioned.

"Just the kids here, they're really outside the box" it was hard to think of excuses. "The teachers also aren't as nice as they were last year"

"Emma can handle it, it's nothing she hasn't handled before. She's got this!" Mary chuckled through the phone.

This plan wasn't working, at all. Whatever I said she found a way around it, I'm never going to get this girl to be homeschooled again. And everyday until the truth I guess comes out, which it won't. I'll have to live with this guilt for awhile. And I'll have no time to get over it, because I'll be looking her in the eye every single day until school is over. Which isn't a long time from now.