After introducing herself to the class, Megan spun around to the board and wrote her name in big, bold letters, which meant she missed the confused glances and whispers from her students. She continued on in a sing-song voice, "I know that some teachers will take the first day to hammer home everything you'll study in the semester or dive right into your first lesson of the day, but I won't do that. It's so much better for us to get to know one another in a calm, relaxing measure, don't you agree?"
"Um, Ms. Porter?" one chubby student near the front of the class asked with her hand raised.
"Yes, dear?" came the cheery response.
The dark-haired girl glanced between her classmates on either side before asking, "Isn't this supposed to be American History?"
The question made the blissful teacher pause and put her finger to her chin. She knew that she shared this room with another instructor, though she could not remember who to save her life. Her new principal, that darling Ms. Potluck, had told her that one of the other classrooms was being renovated, so she would need to share her space in the meantime. Megan was sure she had read her calendar right; this was supposed to be her day in the studio.
"No, dear, this is Art 101!" Ms. Porter exclaimed with beaming smile and sleepy eyes. "I'm so sorry for the confusion; you must have the wrong room."
"I'm pretty sure this is the right place, ma'am," the student replied. She pulled a binder from her backpack and pulled out her class list for the season. "American History, Room 203."
Megan furrowed her brow at that, though not in an angry or frustrated way. The new teacher sashayed up to the student, who graciously offered her list to the bubbly blonde. As she perused the list, an extraordinarily busty woman bustled into the room with a satchel over her shoulder. She looked to be at least ten years older and a hundred-odd pounds heavier than Ms. Porter, which was no doubt a reason why she seemed so out of breath on arrival.
"Sorry I'm late, everyone," she huffed as she approached her desk. "Just had to get some last minute things together before class star--"
The chesty teacher paused when she saw that not only was her desk covered in goodies and sweets; someone had already parked her stuff there. She did a quick glance around the room and immediately spotted the confused Megan. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth drew into a thin slit as if she was about to have a Knight-sized fit, but she managed to contain herself after taking a deep breath.
"Got the calendar mixed up, Ms. Porter?" she asked quietly.
Megan took a look at the arrival, then the class list, and then back to the other teacher. It took a moment for the gears in her head to turn, but when they did, she clapped a hand over her mouth. She exclaimed, "Oh my gawd, Ms. Nelson, I am so, so sorry! I must have read my dates wrong...as usual."
"Yes, well," Rita Nelson sniffed in derision as she took a look at all the canvases around the room, "I see all your attention went into making sure your classroom was presentable."
"You like it?" the cheery teacher exclaimed as she gestured to the work stations she had arranged. "I thought I would make a creative environment that encouraged them to--"
"That's all very nice," the dark-haired woman butted in. She nodded towards the door and asked, "May I have a word with you outside?"
The newbie shrugged lackadaisically and followed Ms. Nelson out into the hall, where the older woman took another deep breath and clapped her hands together. Rita glared at Megan and heatedly hushed, "I'm going to go easy on you since this is your first day here and probably your first day teaching; if you were any older, I would be tearing you a new one right now."
Her 'roommate's' change in tone made Megan straighten up and focus, something she was not used to doing. The other teacher told the blonde, "Let me give you a word of advice: get your shit together. Make sure you know your calendar down-pat and never, ever just fill up a classroom with your crap if you're sharing it. Got that?"
The ditzy instructor nodded, though her eyes glanced down from time to time. Ms. Nelson was wearing an orange sweater that made her look not unlike a mystery-solving teenager, except her 'jinkies' were like two beach balls filled to the max. Even the slightest movement was enough to make them jiggle about in their autumnal confines, which did nothing to keep Megan from getting distracted; it took Rita snapping her fingers to bring the fresh meat back to attention.
"Porter! Eyes up here, please," the history teacher growled. "Honestly, you're as bad as that Hammond girl."
Megan shook her head and perked up again. "Sorry, Ms. Nelson. Just lost my train of thought. I'll go in and put all the easels away if you'd like."
"No, no, you'd only be interrupting my class even more," Rita grumbled. "Just get your stuff and go do whatever you want to do. Head back to your cabin, go tour the school--do whatever, just as long as you're out of my hair."
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