Breathe a lie
Almir (BlackRose and Manic) [M] (IC)
The private room I am given in the girl’s dorm at my uncle’s school, Green Orchard Preparatory, is small but I do not mind. It is the first place I have had since escaping through the portal that has been entirely mine. My aunt Kimra and cousin Jemora - Kim and Jemma, in this world - had brought me cloths and tapestries from my homeland. I'd had the guards who watch over me hang them on the walls, covering the faded lavender with rich hues. My favorite was one that had been done of my great-great grandmother. She had been the last to have wings, and everyone had thought the gift had died with her. When I had been born, my kingdom had rejoiced. I ran my hands down the soft fabric, again wishing I could have met her. She had been extraordinary.
The clothes of this world were disconcerting, but I was scheduled to start classes today and the importance of fitting in had been drilled into me since arriving three months prior. I was not accustomed to wearing shoes all the time, going about the castle in bare feet or silk slippers. These shoes made of leather hurt my soles. Riding boots, Jemma had called them, though oddly enough they were not for riding a horse. The tight pants - jeans - rubbed against my skin as I walked, and I wanted to rip them off. The only comfortable piece of clothing I wore was the pale blue cashmere knit sweater. The brassiere underneath constricted my rips and pinched my skin. The backpack Jemma has given me weighs heavily on my shoulders.
The dormitories sit on either side of the massive lake, girls on the left, boys on the right, with the schools main building between them, so I must pass it to reach this first class of mine, American History with Professor Shaffer. It is my favorite place on the campus, this lake, because it reminds me of home. The green of the trees and the blue of the sky reflected back at me like the colors of the fabrics hanging in my room. I could sit there in the grass by the water’s edge for hours.
Placing the bag on the ground, I take a seat on one of the old stone benched dotting the water’s edge, unable to bring myself to continue toward this class I must attend. I do not wish to learn more about this world, its important historical events mean nothing to me. I think back to my Great-Great grandmother, the woman for whom I am named, Ene Aldaramia io Ilda Skeya, The Last Angel of Isle Skye, the title now bestowed upon me. Though I love my wings, they are a burden, especially now in this strange world. There is so much I do not know, so much that has been forgotten, or can be taught only by another with this gift.
My wings tingle, the markings down my back thrumming with their bound power, seeking to be freed. I have not been allowed to spread my wings since arriving, and this restriction is a burning coal in my stomach, another thing among many to make me dislike this place where I am stuck…
A bell tolls in the distance. I was told about this. It chimed to alert the students their time to reach class was dwindling. In a few minutes, it would chime again, signaling if they had not reached their respective places, they were tardy. I must hurry. Being late on my first day would not reflect well.
Standing I lift my bag to my shoulders once more and hurry on my way. Uncle had given me a tour the night before, pointing out my classes. This first one was on the second floor, to the left of the stairs landing and around a corner. The hallways are filled with rushing bodies, making traversing them difficult. I am pressed against others, against walls, against backpacks. I feel I cannot breath and I cling to the railing of the stairs and pull myself up, around the corner, until I am standing before the door marked American History, Professor Shaffer. I slip inside and find an empty seat as I have been instructed to do.
Last edited by Manic; 09-03-2012 at 09:54 PM.
. . .
First day of classes at the private school, Green Orchard Preparatory (GOP), a high school for those who are abled minded, or athletically talented, and of course have a large sum of cash. The teachers, or professors as they are called to give a higher respect to the teachers, are no different than the students. The professors are alumni of GOP, and were among the top twenty five in their class. This alone makes the school even harder, because the teachers are held up to higher standards. Each professor knows what is expected of each student, and if those standards are not held, then the student is simply ejected. A simple concept for all to understand, however, the schools is not a military-strict private school. The students have the same freedoms of a college student, and the professors are quite eccentric with their work. One of the more eccentric professors would be Professor Thomas Shaffer or PS as he likes to be known as.
He teaches an introductory course to American civilization, and then the more advanced American history classes. With the first day at GOP each professor is supposed to give their students a syllabus of what each professor expects from their students, plus rules each student must follow within their classroom. However, Professor Shaffer does not like syllabuses, because he believes the piece of paper he would hand his students would just be thrown away, which is usually the case with most teenagers, so he simply tells them what is expected of his students. PS believe it is their choice to listen to him or not. Today was no different.
Thomas watched, from the front of the classroom, as his students piled in. A few sitting down then quickly get back up to leave. Getting the wrong classroom was a common mistake the first day. If a student was not embarrassed, even a little, on the first day then they did not have a good first day, or so Thomas thought. In his classroom he strove to embarrass his students, but not in a malicious way. It was more to relieve the awkwardness of the first day, and of course make the first day not as boring as it usually was. As the students settled into their seats Thomas waited for the bell to ring, and then he began his speech.
“Welcome, welcome, and welcome!” He exclaimed. “This is my classroom, and while you are in it you will be expected to pass.” Thomas said and smiled as he saw the weird expressions his students gave him. “Are you surprised that is all I ask? Well, don’t be, because that is all you are here to do, so please do it and we will be fine.” Nobody said anything. “Questions?” Thomas asked. “No?” He smirked. “Good, that means I get to embarrass some of you.” He chuckled as the students looked around the room nervously. “Now look to your left.” He instructed as his students turned to look to their left. “Now to your right.” The students repeated the process. “Some of you did not have somebody to look at, whether that was right or left does not matter, what does matter is that you will be coming down here in front of your fellow classmates.” Thomas pointed to the spot in front of them. Slowly his students started moving down the aisles to stand in a line in front of him and facing their classmates. A girl with white hair stood out to him, and standing out made Thomas want to pick on her.
He walked behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “This girl.” he indicated. “Will be you class go-to girl. Should you need anything from me she will be the person to contact. If you need notes, then contact her. If you need information on another student within this class, then contact her. She is the class wench, as you might call it, use her as you like.” A few smirks came from the guys in the class, and he saw several glares come from the other girls. “However, she is now my favorite person in this class, and she will be treated with the same respect as you would teach me, understand?” A few head nods were the only indication he received. Before Thomas continued he whispered into her ear, “You have entered hell, but it is only as bad as you make it.” He told the students to go sit down with a wave of his hand.
“Now that you know what is expected of you let me give you my rules.” Thomas turned his back and grabbed a dry erase marked. He began writing as he spoke. “First, I am the king of this classroom and what I say goes. Second, there will be no sleeping in my class while I am lecturing, besides that I do not care if you sleep. Third, either address me as ‘King Shaffer,’ ‘Professor Shaffer,’ or ‘PS,’ if you address me differently then I will blatantly ignore you. Fourth, you will shift to your right everyday so that you never sit in the same seat, once you reach your original seat then you must find a different seat. Fifth, and this is the last and biggest rule, you are here to learn about American Civilization, but remember have fun with it, because I am not Hitler or a Nazi.” Thomas turned to his students and asked, “Any questions?” Nobody either had questions or was too scared to ask. Either way he did not feel like waiting. Plus, he was done teaching for the day. He looked at his watch, “12:10pm” it had only been ten minutes.
“Well, the rules are now complete, so my subjects are now free to do as they want. I will pop in a movie, so you can watch the movie, chat among yourselves, or find something else to do. I don’t care if you use your cell phones, laptops, or tablets. Just keep yourself entertained until one o’ clock.” The room burst into noise as the students began talking. Thomas went to his desk to find a movie or something for them to watch. The first dvd he found was of the series “Spartacus,” which he found was appropriate since this was a history class, plus it would capture the attention of both guys and girls. Ten minutes later the entire class was engrossed within the show, so he sat down in his leather chair, propped his feet up on his desk, and closed his eyes. A successful first day.
Breathe a lie
I want to take this man’s hand from my shoulder and shove it away, but I knew this was not normal behavior for a student. This man meant nothing by it; I was simply not accustomed to being touched. Before, any man who laid a hand upon me would lose it. I began listening to him once more, in time to hear him tell the class, “This girl will be your class go-to girl. Should you need anything from me she will be the person to contact. If you need notes, then contact her. If you need information on another student within this class, then contact her. She is the class wench, as you might call it, use her as you like.”
I could feel my cheeks redden as disbelief filled me. Who was this man, to call me a wench? To make me his “go-to girl” and charge me with aiding all the other students, helping them with things I myself could barely care to know. I return to my seat, no longer listening to this man as he addressed the class. Lights are dimmed, drawing my attention as he starts a film. Is this normal procedure? It seemed, from all the things I has watched set in a school, that it was not. At least it means I do not have to make myself listen to his teachings.
The boy next to me leaned over, tapping my shoulder. I go rigid, wishing I could call Daveed and the others who follow me, protect me, to throw him into a hole in the ground somewhere. And to put Professor Shaffer in there with him. “What?” I snap, no longer having the patience to be civil.
“I’m Robert.” He held out his hand, and I remember this is a customary greeting for this world. Taking it, I try to relax and offer him a smile.
“I am Mia.”
“Don’t let Shafer get to ya. My brother had him last year, said he gets off on making his students feel uncomfortable,” he tells me.
I turn away from this boy, Robert, and my eyes fall upon Professor Shaffer. I dislike being here. This man says the others are to show me the same respect as they show him. But I have little faith in this, here where no one understands the proper respect due to even an average person. In the end, though, it does not matter how respectful they can be, I cannot have them invading my life.
Standing, I approach his desk. “Professor Shaffer? I would ask that you choose another student to be your…classroom wench,” I can barely contain my distaste at his choice of words. "I cannot have others coming to me for all these things."
Last edited by Manic; 09-03-2012 at 09:55 PM.
. . .
Thomas was dreaming of being a gladiator, which was on onset of him watching Spartacus. However, things were not going well in his dream, and right before he impaled by a spear a voice woke him. He looked up with one eye, still sleepy; it was the girl he had picked on during class. He could tell by her posture that and tone that she was quite angry with him. He almost laughed at her as she stood there, but he thought it would create a scene so he stifled the laugh. Thomas sat up in his chair and folded his hands on his desk.
“So, wench,” he was going to make her furious with him before he told her it was a lie. “it seems you have a problem helping the people around you.” He said with sarcasm. “I am glad there are people like you in this world, who love to help people oh-so much.” His voice was practically dripping with sarcasm. “Since you are so nice I will tell you a secret.” Thomas said scooting up to his desk and lowering his voice. “What I said up there is a lie, but since you are the first student EVER to take it seriously, then you will become my personal servant or slave, which ever you prefer.” Thomas turned around on her before she could respond stopping the movie.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” He boomed. “Our little Class Helper has just come up to me thanking me for picking her for the job; however, she does not want to help you guys, because honestly you all are smelly, hormonal, and ugly. Words right from her mouth right there.” The class all laughed together. “Instead she said wants to be my personal assistant for the remainder of her stay here in my class.” Thomas said as he put emphasis on the word “personal,” which got him some praise from the boys in the classroom. “So, sadly I will have to relieve her of her duties as Class Wench, and instead promote her to Personal Wench.” The class all laughed, but he put his hand up to stop the talking. “Now let’s resume watching porn, I mean Spartacus, shall we.” Thomas quickly turned the show back on, and the class attention was back on the show. He turned his attention back to the girl in front of his desk.
“Now listen here and listen well, because I will not repeat myself.” Tho
mas said with and edge to his voice. “This is a school for those who have money, or who are very gifted, since it seems you are not gifted, and only care about yourself; I will give you some advice. If I give you something to do, like being a helper for the classroom, it is because I have seen your personal profile and like what I have seen. However, you have turned down my offer to get an instant “A” in this classroom by being rude and uptight. So, please go take your seat. . . .” Thomas said noticing he did not even know the girl’s name. Before she answered he put in one last bit. “I do not hate you nor am I being mean to you. I am simply giving you a taste of what it is like for those who have to work to enter this school.” Thomas said coldly.
Breathe a lie
"You speak as though my being in this wretched world is by choice," I snap, knowing full well I should remain silent. "You assume to know me because you have read a paper filled with falsehoods? Who I am, what I am, transcends you and your pitiful titles, both those given by proper authority and yourself, King Shaffer. I am not your Wench, personal or otherwise. I’d advise you choose another student to pick on. You will find me a rather formidable foe.”
I can no longer stay in this man’s presence, so I turn and walk back to my desk, lifting my bag from the floor where I had set it.
“Hey, Mia, where ya goin?” Robert whispers.
“To speak with my Uncle,” is my only reply. I take the notebook and pen I had set on my desk and return them to their place in my bag before lifting it to my shoulder and exiting, ignoring any comments the man made.
Outside in the hall, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. Daveed and another body guard whose name escapes me flank the door, stepping around me as I take pause.
“Princess,” Daveed says softly, bowing his head. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, Daveed. Thank you,” I offer my guards a small smile, brushing the hair from my face. “I need to see my uncle, is all.” I start toward the stairwell and the men follow me up to the top floor, where my Uncle’s office resides.
I knock on the hard wood door, not waiting for a response before pushing it open. "Father!" I am surprised to see him standing near the floor to ceiling window that looks upon the school's large lake.
He and Uncle turn toward me, my father reaching his hand out to me as he smiles. "My darling, are you not supposed to be in your classes?"
"I am, father," I say as I step forward and take him hand, leaning down to rest my forehead atop the back of his hand. I straighten to the slight lifting of his eye brows. "I had a...disagreement with a Professor, and I came to speak with Uncle," I explain.
"Your Professor?" Uncle thinks a moment, then says, "oh, that would be Professor Shaffer, would it not?"
"Yes," I nod.
"Tell us, my darling, what was this disagreement over?" My father asks, taking a seat in the high backed brown leather chair that sits behind my uncles large desk.
I open my mouth and close it again, wondering how to form my response. As much as I had been wishing this man be dropped in a hole, my father may do more than that if he misunderstands the context. "This professor Shaffer, his idea of respect differ's from mine," I start slowly. "I misunderstood, thinking a small lie was truth. I believe it was what Jemma has called sarcasm?"
"Professor Shaffer is an odd one," Uncle agrees with a nod. "What did he say?"
"He...said I was the classroom wench, and that if anyone needed something - notes, or the like - they were to ask me. I expressed my distaste for this title and because I did not understand this sarcasm, he decided to further ‘pick on me’ and has made me his personal aisstant.”
My father’s face has turned red. “He called you a what?”
Uncle steps forward, placing a hand on father shoulder. “He did not mean it as you are interpreting, sire,” he explains. “Mia, surely you understand?”
“Yes, Uncle. I understand now his meaning, but I still find this man rude, and wish to be moved from his class.”
“Certainly, I will-”
My father cuts him off with a wave of his hand. “Explain this to me, Marcus.”
“Thomas Shaffer was simply trying to tease his students, he meant nothing by his actions. He of course does not know who Mia is. If you both will please just forgive him, I will put Mia in another class-”
“Do the Professors often have student’s aiding them?” My father interrupts again.
“Yes, some assign a student to help them run things. Pass out papers, answer the phones, bring documents to me.”
“So it is a normal thing, for this world?”
“Then, she will do it.”
“Father?” I ask, stepping forward.
“No arguments, Aldaramia,” he snaps. “It is vital that you learn the ways of this world and grow accustomed to them.”
“But father, this man…he is-”
“I said no arguments!”
“Yes, father,” I say, bowing my head. I have no choice in this matter, his mind has been made.
My father stands, Uncle and I bow, and he leaves. We stand there in silence, broken by my Uncle clicking a button on his phone and speaking to his secretary. “Olive, please tell Professor Shaffer to meet me in my office after class.”
Last edited by Manic; 09-03-2012 at 09:55 PM.
. . .
It appeared he had taken it a bit too far with this student. He was not a mean teacher, as a matter of fact; he was usually loved by all his students. He knew what it was like to be in their shoes, so he tried to make his classes as enjoyable as possible. Thomas sighed as he thought about what he had said to her, and he regretted what he had said. He was actually mean to her, which usually never happened, and he hated to be mean. He loved to pick-on his students, but never to be mean to them. As he thought about what he would do his phone rang, “Dean’s Office.” It seemed she had gone straight to the dean. Thomas picked up the phone and prepared for an earful.
“Hello, Professor Shaffer?” A woman said. Thomas knew it was the dean’s secretary so he relaxed a little.
“Yes this is him.” He responded.
“You are to see the dean as soon as your class is over.” Olive told him then hung up the phone. It seemed he was still in quite a bit of trouble. Thomas looked at his watch, and there was only five minutes of class left. He thought he might as well meet with the dean as soon as possible.
“All right class.” He began. “That is all for today and Robert come here for a second.” Thomas told his student. Robert came over to his desk looking a bit worried. “Don’t worry you are not in trouble I just want to know the girl’s name who you sit by.” Thomas said.
“Oh, her name is Mia.” Robert said. “And Professor Shaffer I don’t think she is a bit ‘book smart’ and not ‘street smart.’” Robert said explaining that she was smart with knowledge of the world, but not knowledge with how the world works. Thomas took his advice and told him he was free to go. With a deep breath he prepared to go see how his fate as a professor would end up.
Thomas met with Olive first and she told him to wait. As he sat there waiting he thought about everything that might happen to him. Would he be put on probation, or maybe fired, or maybe she was suing him for sexual harassment. Thomas shrugged his shoulders willing to accept whatever was to come his way. Events happened to teach you a lesson, so he would take the lesson from this event in his life.
“The Dean will now see you.” Olive told him. With a bit of hesitation Thomas knocked on the door and entered. Standing there was his student, Mia, and the Dean of GOP.
“It appears I have been caught in a trap.” Thomas said trying to not seem nervous.
Breathe a lie
“I did not do a good enough job of explaining,” I say to my uncle, whose large hand pats my back reassuringly. “The man is rude. He all but called me an imbecile, Uncle. Are you sure you cannot still fire him?”
“Mia, he’s a good teacher despite his…short comings. You’ll find people in this world different from those in Almir, as you no doubt already know. I can’t fire him for not knowing who you are. And your father has made his decision. I would advise you go along with it for now, maybe in a few days you can revisit the issue with him. Being a teacher’s aide isn’t very difficult; I’ve even had students say its fun.”
Any response on my part was interrupted by his secretary’s voice appearing out of nowhere and giving me a start. “Mr. Walbury? Professor Shaffer is here to see you.”
Uncle stepped away and clicked another button on his phone. “Thank you, Olive. Send him in, please.”
A few moments later, the door opened and Professor Shaffer entered. “It appears I have been caught in a trap.”
“Hardly, Thomas. Please, take a seat,” Uncle said, motioning for the ones in front of his desk. He motions me toward a seat, but I remain standing off to the side of his desk.
“If anyone is trapped, it is me,” I snap, crossing my wrists behind my back.
“What Mia means is, it has been decided that she will remain in your class, as your TA." Uncle’s eyes narrowed. “You will treat my niece with respect, Shaffer.”
Last edited by Manic; 09-03-2012 at 09:56 PM.
. . .
The Dean motioned to a chair in front of him and he sat down. Thomas respected Dean Walbury not just because he was a good man, but that he was able to handle any situation with a calm mind. It was apparent in this situation as well. Any Dean would have fired his teacher for talking to his niece in the matter that Thomas had. It was surprising for him to hear that she was still willing, or maybe unwillingly, to stay as his assistant. Thomas was at a loss of words as he began to apologize.
“I- umm-“ He cleared he throat to gather his thoughts. The Dean was not the person he was to apologize to. Thomas got up and stood before in front of Mia. Bowing he said, “I am deeply sorry for the words I chose to use in describing your attention, and for the misunderstanding that I have caused.” He said apologetically. Straightening him to look into Mia’s eyes he continued, “Please forgive me for what I have said today.” He gave her a weak smile then turned to Dean Walbury.
“I must also apologize for causing your niece such a display of humility in front of my classroom, even though I am sure the students do not care, it was my blunder to act in such a way.” Thomas apologized to the Dean. He stood there awaiting to be dismissed, or maybe, if he was lucky, to be forgiven.
Breathe a lie
I cast a sidelong glance at my uncle as the man bowed before me and began his apology. Perhaps he knew his place after all. I stood staring at him as h moved to apologize to my uncle.
“You are forgiven, Thomas. By me, anyway.” Uncle turned to me, asking, “Mia?”
“Yes, I suppose you are forgiven by me as well, Thomas. There, the matter is settled.” Perhaps now father would reconsider. The look Uncle gave me said he doubted it, as did I. “When do my duties as Teacher’s Aide begin?” I ask, trying to keep the distain from my voice.
“Tomorrow,” Uncle says. “Thomas has a class starting soon, I believe, and you’re already late for your next one, are you not?”
“I am,” I say seeing this as my opportunity to leave. Bowing my head, I offer Uncle a smile, saying, “I will see you soon, Uncle.” As I leave I pause before Thomas, my smile having lost most of its genuine joy, and say, “I will see you in the morning.” Outside, Olive gives me a smile which I return before exiting the office completely, off to my next class.
My second day of school begins with a sigh. My schedule is designed so that I will gain as much knowledge of this world as possible, but it ensures I will dislike them all. And Thomas Shaffer ensures I will absolutely not enjoy my first class.
I force myself to put on more of this worlds clothes. Today, a grey lace knit dress that allowed me more movement, with these strange stretchy black things Jemma called tights. I pulled on the same boots I had worn before, and picked up my bag. Reluctantly, I left the calm, soothing colors of my room and started toward the main building.
As I pass the lake, I am drawn to it, pausing before its shimmering face before I even realize I am headed in its direction. I wish to slip under the calm surface and not come up again until I am at the other end, the one that lets out far into the forest backing the campus grounds. But the chiming of a bell in the distance reminds me I am stuck in this place, with a class to attend.
When I reach Thomas Shaffer’s classroom, I find only one available seat and set my bag next to it as the bell rings once more. I am not completely across the room from Robert, and something about that fact makes me nervous. We had barely spoken, certainly not enough to become any semblance of friends, but it somehow makes me feel even more alone as I approach Thomas’ desk.
“Good morning,” I say simply, awaiting his instruction. Was I to pass out papers? Or perhaps fetch him a drink, like a common steward...
Last edited by Manic; 09-03-2012 at 09:56 PM.
. . .
Thomas was whistling as he went to his class that day. He had dodged being fired, he got an assistant, and he found twenty dollars in his pocket this morning. All in all, the morning was starting out quite well for. There was still ten minutes before he had to be to in his classroom, not like his students really minded, but it was always good to not show up too late. As he was walking past the lake he noticed a girl standing there. He looked closer to find Mia standing there staring deeply into the water. Thomas was going to greet her, but she looked deep in thought so he left her. As he passed her by he thought how beautiful she had looked there. The sun seemed to play on her skin making it almost give off a soft glow. Her eyes shone brightly from the water’s reflection. He shook his head to get the thoughts out of his head. A student and teacher relationship never ended very well, plus she was Dean Walbury’s niece, and he was sure she under eighteen. Thomas shrugged his shoulders not thinking anymore about it anymore.
Thomas entered his classroom and began unpacking his backpack. It was full of binders for what he needed to teach that day. He never handed out papers, because he did everything online through a program called, “Online Teachers.” It was by no means an original name, but the program made him use as little as possible. The binders were just there for lesson plans, which he always did a year in advance. Before he even had unpacked all of his materials a familiar voice sounded in his ears. He looked, to his surprise, to find Mia standing in front of his desk. Thomas was even more surprised that she had said, “Good morning” to him. At least she was not openly expressing the hate she had for him. Whether that was good or bad he did not know.
“Good morning to you as well, Mia.” Professor Shaffer said smiling. “Honestly, you have the easiest job out of all the assistants, because I do not use any paper. The only request I have is that you take detailed notes over each lesson, and then give them to me after each class so that I can copy them.” Thomas requested. “Other than that just become a model student for your fellow peers, and do not worry you don’t have to be the class wench.” He said jokingly wondering if it was too soon. “As for me I might have you do small errands for me, but that will come when I need an errand ran.” Thomas explained. He thought it was good enough explanation. He waved her off before talking to the class.
“Alright, today we will be learning about how America became to be, and no I don’t mean the stupid ass pilgrims.” Thomas said and he got a laugh in response. “No, I mean the badass revolutionists, and no not Mel Gibson, because we all know he is a secret Nazi.” Thomas joked. “Yeah, yeah I know I am starting way ahead of time, but guess what I am the professor and you are all like little slaves. Listen to what I say, when I say, and do what I tell you to do and you shall be freed, with probably an “A” or “B.” Another laugh came from the class. “Now that I have your attention let’s begin.” Thomas said turning off the lights to the classroom. A PowerPoint showed up on the screen minutes later and he began to teach. That was how the class started and ended that day.
As class ended Thomas looked at his clock and it was lunch time. He had another class starting in five minutes, so he could not go get lunch himself. He smiled as he thought of his assistant. “OH, THE GLORIES OF HAVING A SLAVE.” Thomas thought. He caught Mia as she was leaving the classroom. “Mia, I need you to go get lunch for me. Get me whatever the special is for today, and don’t worry if you have a class, because I can give you a pass so you will be excused.” Thomas told her. He handed her five dollars, and went to preparing for his next class.