A Bit Of Luck

Scarlett pulled up at her part time job, smiling as she cast her eyes over the ancient buildings. Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, she taught art and music at the local high school. She pulled of her helmet and grabbed her bag from the luggage storage and walked into the school, making her way to the classroom she taught in.

She pulled off her biking jacket, trousers and boots, changing into plain black skinny jeans, and dusting off her red t-shirt, before slipping on her Misfits hoody. She pulled on her red converse and prepared herself for the first class she had.

As the kids started coming in, she went and sat on her desk, swinging her legs.

“Morning everyone,” she said, trying to sound cheery.

A few of the suck ups replied with cheery, “Good morning Miss Burton” and when one of the jocks threw a pencil at one and muttered, “Fucking kiss ass,” Scarlett had to stifle a giggle.

“Today I want you to draw something that you feel strongly about. Music, something you own, someone. It’s up to you. But you only have the one class to complete it, so get started. I’ll help if you need it,” she told the class and immediately quite a few hands went up.

She headed straight to the back where the ‘emos’ sat. They weren’t emo, or whatever the other kids called them, they were genuinely nice kids. She sat on one of their desks and they asked about what they were allowed to draw. “Can it be… like an image from a fantasy?” one of them asked.

Scarlett smirked, “As long as it’s a PG13 fantasy.” She giggled.

The guys laughed. “Now now Miss, no innuendos in class time!” One of the others said.

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, “It wasn’t me who suggested it.”

x-x-x

Lunch time came quickly and passed at a similar speed and Scarlett found herself preparing the music room for her class. The kids filed in, taking their seats and waiting for her to start.

“Today I want to work on your team work. Therefore, I’m going to ask you all to sit according to what you play or do, and I’ll be dividing you into groups.”

Once the group were all divided, she noticed that one group was arguing. “Problems?” she asked them, and one of the guys she was talking to in art rolled his eyes.

“No-one here plays the bass, and we can’t decide on a cover to do,” he filled her in.

“Sort it out. You’re practically grown ups,” she said and walked back to her desk. The door opened and she looked up, smiling as she saw her friend.

“Maad? What’re you doing here?” she said, standing up to greet him but her head span and she had to sit down hastily to avoid falling.

“Crimson, are you ok?” he said, rushing to her side.

“Took a light head, that’s all,” Scarlett said. Crimson was his nickname for her, because as he had said, ‘Crimson is a nicer colour of red.’

Scarlett looked up at Maad, smiling fondly as she took him in for what seemed like the millionth time. He had medium length brown hair, hazel eyes and a goofy smile. Everything about his appearance screamed ‘good guy’ and Scarlett secretly harboured thoughts that he would be perfect for Cobe. She was determined to get them together, it would happen, even if it was the last thing she did.

His hair fell into his eyes as she observed him, and even though it obscured her view, she could still see the concern and care present in them. She smiled at him again, and pulled her hair out of her eyes, tying it back with the baubles she kept handy on her wrist. Maad laughed at the rebellious pigtails she opted for and she stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

He stayed and chatted away for quite a while, talking about anything and everything that entered his head. Scarlett enjoyed the company, especially his. He was easy going and lightened the usually dull experience of sitting at her desk, doing nothing. Eventually, he looked at his watch and cursed, saying he was late for a job he had promised to do. Scarlett hugged him quickly and watched him leave, sighed happily.

“Shit…” she cursed and went to the door.

“MAAD!” she called down the corridor after him. He turned and laughed, seeing her leaning out the door.

“Ever been to The Sugar Mill?” she asked, a small smile working its way onto her lips.

“Yeah?”

“Well, you’re going there again after work today. Meet me at the front at 4.”

And with that, she walked back into the classroom and checked her pupils weren’t killing each other.