𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 ✔️

Chapter Ten

I was five minutes late to French, and when my teacher pulled me aside, I just calmly explained that I had forgotten which lesson I had next. As Olivia Clark, the teacher would've smiled and dismissed me, but I think I've come to notice that things with Alessia Trent rolled slightly differently.

She dismissed me, but without a smile, and with a heavier workload than the rest of the class.

I couldn't concentrate in my French lesson. I didn't need to since I was the top of my class in school, but it would've been a good idea to dodge the wrath of an already angry teacher.

Alessia was upset, angry, and distracted all at once. The latter was the only emotion not caused by Kiara, and why? Because Dylan was sat in front of her. I had learnt over the past two days that Alessia either had a fascination with Dylan and wanted to be his friend or just had a very secret crush on him. I sure hadn't suspected it when I was in school.

As Olivia, I had become detached, saddened by the fact that I couldn't just walk up to Dylan and ask him to repeat his French speaking piece to me, or let Kiara braid my hair in English literature, or laugh along to Johnny's jokes in the corridors, or get Ked to help me pick between plaid and stripes.

I missed my friends.
I missed my life.

I sighed, shaking the thoughts away and speeding through the work that the teacher had given me. I only had ten minutes left of our double lesson and a lot of work to do. I also noticed that she had given Alessia D grade and C grade work to do. I didn't know how good or bad Alessia was at her subjects, but I thought maybe that that was aiming too low. I had convinced Dylan to ask for higher grade work in school, so maybe I just had to do the same for Alessia.

When the end-of-school bell rang, I packed up my stuff with satisfaction, having completed all of the work. I fished my French homework out from Alessia's bag for the last time today since it was now all done.

I piled up all the work I had to give in to the teacher and approached her when most of the class had gone. She rose an eyebrow at me when she noticed that I was there. I swallowed, handing over my class work first.

"Um," I began, "I also have the homework that appears to have never left my bag. It was due in a while back, I'm sorry." I told her, expecting her to lash out on me.

She didn't, instead, she sighed. "Thank you, Alessia," she said, frowning when I remained in front of her. "Was there something else?" She asked.

"Is there a possibility that you could give me higher grade work to do?" I asked her, watching as her eyebrows shot up. "I know that it's sudden but I'm really trying to get my head down for GCSEs now, and I think I'm ready," I told her, smiling.

"Well," she said, discarding my work on her desk, "it's a bit late for that now, isn't it?" She asked. I suddenly felt my cheeks flush—I wouldn't have been as embarrassed if I didn't know that there were still students in the room, but I could feel them lurking behind me.

"But you said that it's never too late," I said, frowning as I remembered all the things she had said when I was at school.

She shook her head, "it is for you, enjoy your evening, Alessia."

With that, she turned around and slipped the work from today into a folder. Still in shock, it took me a while to register what had just happened. I guess Alessia doesn't have a good bond with her teachers.