Believe Me, I'm Lying

“Sorry I’m late,” I said, walking into the principals office. “This school is too big and no one would give me directions.”

My uncle looked up from his desk and smiled. “That’s alright, you don’t have a class first period anyway.”

I nodded, taking a seat on the chair across from him. I brought my hands onto my lap, and stared at him expectantly. He pulled open one of the desk drawers and fished around in it for a moment before pulling out a big black binder. He placed it on the desk and turned back to me.

“Here’s your planner,” he said, sliding it over to me. “The teacher who was supposed to take this art class already planned out the year’s course work with everything required, but you can feel free to change it up if you want. The requirements are in there as well.”

I opened the black binder, and scanned the first week of the planner. A bunch of foods were listed; some of which I had never heard of. I looked back up at my uncle with a sheepish look.

“Uh… what do I do if I don’t know how to make something?”

“Look it up and learn it,” my uncle responded simply. “That should be obvious.”

I sighed lightly. There would be a lot of cooking ahead of me. But I liked cooking, so it couldn’t be that bad. I looked down at today’s class schedule. A frown appeared on my face when I noticed I only had one class.

“Uncle Rob, why do I only have one class?”

“Hmm?” he responded, looking over the desk at the planner. “Oh, the juniors are on a field trip, and the sophomores have a class meeting the period you have them. Lucky you.”

“So what? My sixth period class is freshmen?”

My uncle laughed. “No, freshmen can’t take home economics. Your last class is seniors.”

“Seniors?” I cried, my eyes widening. “But Uncle Rob! I’m not even a senior! If I was in high school right now I’d be a junior!”

“Actually, Harley, you’re an adult who isn’t in high school.”

“But—”

“They won’t know you are younger than them,” my uncle cut me off, sighing. “Trust me, it’ll be fine.”

I pouted. “If I don’t have a class until the end of the day, how come I had to come in early?”

“Don’t you want to explore the school?”

Flashbacks of what happened this morning returned to me and I gave my uncle a wry smile. “Not really… It’s a bit dangerous.”

My uncle looked at me curiously. “What do you mean?”

“This morning I ran into four people having a fight.”

To my surprise, my uncle didn’t look worried at all. He just sighed heavily, shaking his head.

“No matter how many times I tell the students not to have fights, there’s always at least three a day.”

“Wait, so this happens a lot?” I asked, my eyes widening.

“Harley, it’s a school full of delinquents, what do you think?”

“But what if they attack me?”

“They won’t, you’re a teacher who could expel them,” my uncle explained, a smile slipping onto his face. “Once you have their respect, you won’t lose it.”

“Oh,” I responded, feeling relieved. “Okay.”

What happened this morning was only because they didn’t know I’m a teacher? I almost laughed. I should have just said I was a teacher! Why didn’t I think of that? I shook my head, a smile slipping onto my face.

“Did you catch the names of the people you saw fighting?”

I shook my head. “No… I can describe them.”

“Please do,” my uncle urged. “If I figure out who they are, I’ll give them a warning.”

“Um, there was a guy with mahogany hair, a blonde, a guy with short brown hair, and the last one had umber colored hair…”

My uncle smirked in amusement. “There are about one hundred and fifty kids here for each of those people you just described.”

“Ah, sorry,” I muttered, looking down sheepishly. “I didn’t really study their appearances… oh! The really dark haired one had an English accent!”

Immediately, recognition crossed my uncle’s face. He scowled slightly. “Oliver…”

“Oliver?”

“He’s a senior this year and has been causing trouble ever since he arrived,” my uncle explained, shaking his head. “He along with his friend Zak who I’m assuming was also with him.”

“The short haired one?”

My uncle nodded. “Those two are always together.”

“Don’t you have discipline here?” I demanded, crossing my arms. “You’d think the rules would be a little bit more strict for a delinquent school!”

“There are strict rules,” my uncle responded, a small smile on his face. “However, since this is a school for delinquents, do you really think everyone is going to follow them? They’d rather get in trouble.”

“I’m guessing a lot of detentions and suspensions are given out, then?”

“Yeah,” my uncle responded, “but let’s move on to your class schedule.”

I looked down at the planner in front of me. “I have classes second, fifth, and seventh period?”

“Yes, use first, third, and sixth as prep periods,” my uncle told me. “You won’t need the whole period, but that time is for cleaning up and preparing materials for the next class.”

“What about fourth period?”

“It’s your free period,” he told me, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t really care what you do as long as you stay out of trouble. You might have lunch duty though sometimes.”

“Are you sure I can do this?” I asked, my doubts coming back. “I mean… when I ran into Emma Rose this morning she thought I was a student. And so did those boys that were fighting.”

“Harley, you’re seventeen. There’s a limit to how old you can make yourself look,” my uncle told me, “but what you can’t look like, you can make up by confidence and demeanor.”

“Easier said than done,” I muttered.

My uncle laughed. “You’ll get used to it. You’re doing me a really big favor, Harley, so please try your best.”

“What happened to the other home economics teacher?”

“We fired him.”

“Why?”

“He was harassing the students,” my uncle appraised me. “One day three girls came into my office crying and that was that.”

“Girls go here?” I asked in shock.

My uncle raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. This isn’t an all boys’ school…”

“No, I know it’s not, I just thought there wouldn’t be any girls here for some reason.”

He laughed. “Believe it or not, but girls can be troublemakers too.”

I blushed, suddenly interested in a scratch on the desk. Duh! Of course girls could be delinquents too. Why had I even asked such a stupid question?

There was a sudden knock at the door and I jumped, turning in my seat to see who it was. A student with bleach blonde hair stood there, a scared look on her face. She was playing with her fingers nervously.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Wesley?” she asked quietly, slowly lowering her eyes to the floor.

My uncle nodded to her. “Just one moment, Ms. Price.”

I stared at the girl, slightly surprised. She didn’t look intimidating in the least bit! However, looks could be deceiving.

“Well, Harley, I guess this brings us to the end of our conversation,” my uncle announced, standing up from his chair. “Good luck with your first day and first class. Feel free to explore, and if you get lost, don’t be afraid to go into a classroom to ask for directions.”

I scowled at him. “I’m not going to get lost.”

“We’ll see,” my uncle responded with a smirk. “Goodbye.”

I sighed, getting out of my seat and trudged to the door. The blonde smiled hesitantly at me and I returned it before exiting the room completely. Not knowing what else to do, I started down the hall in search of my classroom. I guess I would be exploring after all.

By lunchtime, I had explored most of the school, finding out with a shock that it had an indoor pool. I would definitely be using that at some point. Following the mess of students walking down the hall, I found myself at the cafeteria.

As soon as I entered the room, boisterous noises entered my ears. All around were masses of students; at the tables, in line, hanging around the trash can. I looked around the room, locating the a la carte line and going to stand in it. In front of me stood the girl with bleach blonde hair from my uncle’s office.

She noticed me at the same time I noticed her and smiled. I smiled back, walking closer to her.

“Hi again,” I started, standing beside her. “Do you know what’s for lunch today?”

“Uh, I think a la carte is serving pizza or cheeseburgers today,” she responded, sounding much more energetic than earlier.

“Pizza?” I repeated, a smile spreading across my face. “I haven’t had that in forever!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my little brother doesn’t like it, so I never get a chance to eat it,” I explained, walking forward with her. “My name’s Harley Allen, by the way.”

“Melissa Moore,” she responded. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” I stated, feeling awkward once again.

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Are you a student?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m the new home economics teacher.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really? Wow! You look so young! And you’re friendly! Much better compared to Mr. Dawson.”

“The old home economics teacher?”

Melissa nodded, moving up in line again. “Yeah. He used to make fun of me all the time, but then a few friends of mine and I got him fired.”

“Oh,” I responded, frowning. “Sorry you had to put up with that.”

Melissa laughed. “No worries. I’m just glad we have a friendly teacher this time… although you look really young.”

“Haha, yeah,” I responded, forcing out a laugh. Then what she said registered in my mind. “So you’re in one of my classes?”

She nodded, grabbing a tray off the side counter. I copied her, grabbing a few napkins as well.

“I’m a sophomore, so you’ll have me second period,” she told me, grabbing a bag of chips. “I’ll have a slice of pepperoni,” she said to the lunch lady.

“Same,” I responded when the lunch lady turned to look at me.

We left the line and paid. Melissa turned to me with a smile.

“Well, I’m going to go sit with my friends and eat,” she told me, nodding her heads towards one of the tables. “See you tomorrow.”

I nodded. “See you.”

I walked out of the lunchroom and headed towards my classroom to eat. If I had to eat lunch alone everyday, it would kind of suck. When I made it to my classroom, I sat down at my desk with my tray of food and began to eat, running my eyes over the instructions of how to make today’s cake. It was something I had done before, so I was sure I wouldn’t have any problems, but I wanted to double check on everything.

By the time sixth period rolled around, I was shaking from nerves and anxiety. I so wasn’t ready for this. I tapped my fingers nervously on my desk, leaning back in my seat, taking deep breaths to calm myself. It wouldn’t be that bad, I kept telling myself.

I had already set up all the ingredients on each table for the students: a carton of eggs, a jar of caramel, a squeeze bottle of chocolate sauce, flour, sugar, a jug of water, and a can of cocoa powder. At first I had been a bit amazed at how many ingredients the school was equipped with, but then I realized if the school had a pool, it could definitely afford all of this.

I glanced at the clock. I still had ten minutes before class started. Pushing myself off my chair, I headed towards the bathroom down the hall. When I was done using the toilet, I washed my hands and checked myself in the mirror. My hair was still up in the bun, and my makeup surprisingly stayed un-smudged. Perhaps I could pull this off…

A bell went off, making me jump, and nearly lose my balance. I clung to the sink for support as I steadied myself. I glanced at the watch on my wrist. Had I been off about the bell schedule? Frowning, I hurried out of the bathroom and back to the classroom. I hesitated only a minute before entering.

Nobody in the room looked up at me as I entered. They continued talking, a few sitting on the desktops, and one even sitting at my desk. As I grew closer, I realized the one sitting on my desk was the English man, Oliver, from earlier.

“Excuse me,” I said nervously, walking up to him. “That’s my desk…”

The whole room went silent now, and I felt everyone’s eyes on me. Oliver slowly looked up at me, a disinterested expression on his face. When he realized whom I was, an amused smirk slipped onto his face.

“Oh? You’re a teacher?” he asked, sitting up in my chair now.

“Yeah, and you’re in my seat.”

He ignored me. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” I responded confidently.

Someone snorted from behind me and I spun around to see who it was. As I scanned the class, I made a shocking discovery.

The class only consisted of young men. Not one single girl was among the mass. I blinked in surprise, turning back to Oliver, who was still staring at me. I suddenly felt like I was going to be sick.

“You look like you’re twelve,” a new voice commented, and I turned to see the short haired man, Zak, from earlier smirking at me.

I opened my mouth to insult him back, but then snapped it shut immediately when I remembered I was a teacher and couldn’t do that. I settled for glaring at him as harshly as I could. He just laughed again.

I turned back to Oliver, feeling my face heat up in embarrassment. “Go to your seat.”

“No, thank you,” he drawled, leaning back in my chair once again. “I like it here. Why don’t you go to my seat instead? You look like you belong there more than I do.”

“Remember you’re talking to a teacher,” I warned, clenching my fists angrily.

“I’ll make sure to do that.”

I groaned in frustration quietly. Why wasn’t he taking me seriously?

“Oli!” another voice called from the back of the room. “Dude, let her start class!”

Oliver and I both turned to look at the young man who had spoken. He had styled, dyed black hair with blue coon tails. I frowned a bit. Did they allow hair dying here?

A moment passed between the pair of men, and then Oliver smirked, standing up and offering the seat out to me.

“Here you go.”

I watched him carefully as he moved around the desk and back to his seat. The class was still silent as he sat down and smirked up at me. I returned his look, slightly confused at his sudden change of attitude, and I felt myself growing nervous again. What was I supposed to do now?

“Um,” I started, staring at the floor. “I’m Ms. Allen, and I’ll be your new home economics teacher.”

“Obviously,” someone commented, making the class laugh.

I looked up to scowl at the guy who said that. Another shock ran through me as I realized he was the guy with mahogany colored hair from earlier. Just my luck. He just grinned back, placing an elbow on his desk, and stared up at me. I cleared my throat, looking down at the black binder on my desk.

“I guess we should start baking—”

“I have a better idea,” a voice I recognized as Oliver’s interrupted.

“Do you?” I responded flatly, staring at him.

With a smirk on his face, he nodded, lifting up his hand. It took me a second to realize there was something in it. His smirk continued to grow as I realized it was an egg. Shock ran threw me as he brought back his arm.

He wouldn’t…

“Food fight!” he shouted, launching the egg at me.

As soon as the egg hit my chest, cracking open, and spilling it’s contents all over my shirt, all hell broke loose.