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The park space was packed tight with the influx of the parents, eager to get in on the shenanigans their kids have been doing since a month into the school year.
"Jackson-," Said Mr. White, the bald chemistry teacher with a jaded and square face. "He is a highly motivated student, in fact, I would describe him as 'Unusually driven'."
Jackson's father, a man of wealth, sat opposite with a sad smile and long sigh. "Yeah, we were hoping he would ease up on himself."
His mother, a clear troppy wife, placed her hand on his lap comforting him with her presence, his father showed her a thankful smile and continued.
"He's always been hard on himself."
The beer in his hands slipped out as Jackson picked up the lacrosse net, his face flushed red, his shirt wet and clinging over his skin, the blaring headlights of his car behind, making him a dark shadow.
"It's just, you know, something we assumed was the effect of him being adopted." His mother spoke, worried and pity hanging thick on the tone.
Jackson picked up the ball and took a shot at a mark, missing it completely. He bit his lips as frustration began to grow on his face and with a swift he picked the next ball.
"I think I understand," Mr. White nodded. "He never met his biological parents."
"Yes." Mr. Whittemore agreed and added. "That's right, it's the need to please, the overachieving, the obsession over making us proud and fear of losing our love."
The balls kept smashing against the wood but the mark still stood unfaced, his chest heaved up and down as he stared at the can.
The vexation of pushed around by everyone, being overshadowed by losers like Scott and Stiles was nagging at the back of his mind, enveloping him slowly and turning him bitter, not to mention the sizzling pain at the back of his neck, incensing his anger multiple folds.
"Something certainly seems to have recalibrated his desire for achievement several notches higher." Mr. White assessed.
"Ahhhhh!" Jackson screamed as he threw the net against the mark and stomped the bottle, shattering it into glass dust as he ran back to his car.
His knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering, his eyes narrowed on the can and his jaws clenched, he stepped on the gas.
"Let me tell you, there's plenty to say about Lydia," Mrs. Lein announced with her pretty smirk.
Mr. Martin scoffed as soon as he heard those and shot a glance of disdain at his wife. "Did I not predict this?"
"Here we go," And Mrs. Martin rolled her eyes, flicking her long hair back, knowing her husband. "Total nuclear meltdown as usual."
Mrs. Lein parted her lips, awkwardly at the reaction of Lydia's parents.
"What is it? Is it her grades, concentration issues, erratic behavior?" Mr. Martin asked and his words made sure he wasn't expecting anything good.
"I'm not the one who told her, she had to choose who she wanted to live with, as if that wouldn't warp a 16-year-old girl." Her mother said, clearing aiming the last words at the teacher.
"Just tell us what's the problem?" Mr. Martin was clearly impatient.
Mrs. Lein shook her head with a smile. "I wasn't aware that there was a problem."
"Hmm." Her mother's lip curled with pride, while Mr. Martin lost his smile.
"Academically, Lydia's one of the finest students I ever had."
The pills seemed to work better at exhausting her than the boy's stamina beside as Lydia slept, curled into a ball and a pillow pressed against her clit, her clothes all over the room.
"Her A.P classes push her GPA above a 5.0." Mrs. Lein mentioned proudly. "Socially, she displays outstanding communicative qualities, she has a way with words."
"Good to see you, Samantha." Harris said with a wide grin as his eyes roamed over her.
Sam clenched her nails while putting on a plain face.
"I thought your parents would be here?" He mentioned.
"They are unavailable." She replied, her words sharp.
"O-ok." He nodded, pulling in the file. "So Tara-."
The laptop's screen being the only source of light, illuminated the dark wood room, devoid of any colors other than black, gray and white.
Books of various nature were placed orderly on her shelf and a wooden cupboard was shut and locked on the wall beside her bed.
Tara bit her nails, fidgeting as her eyes narrowed on her laptop, a red point on a map, creating ripples of signal as it moved, the name marked above it read 'My.S'.
"Why are you at the East shore?" She muttered.
"She's a straight A student, no negative remarks," Harris summoned. "But socially, she isn't the best."
"She is antisocial, is that a problem?" Sam asked, backing up her sister strongly.
Harris blinked, adjusting his glasses as he looked away from her eyes. "N-no, I suppose."
"Amber." Mrs. Lein smiled. "She is absolutely amazing."
"That's so nice to hear." Mrs. Freeman chuckled, proud of her daughter.
"All her academics are top rank, she has been volunteering for the school." Mrs. Lein added her achievements one by one. "She is such a nice girl."
Her hair sprayed under her as she laid on the bed, the phone in her hand showing images of a mop black haired boy with sharp jaws, slouched next to her on a yacht, her fingers ran over his face while a coy smile unrolled in hers.
Her other hand slowly moved down, under her garments by the thought of his strong arms pulling her into the sea surfaced into her mind, his wine lips pressed against hers as she felt herself intoxicated made the place between her thighs warm and wet.
Her fingers found her desire as she pressed them in and a low moan parted her lips.
"Where the hell are you? Get to the school right now." Melissa whisper-shouted into her phone as another one of her calls led to Scott's mail.
"How about we get started?" Mr. White asked politely.
"Sure." Melissa smiled and leaned back, acting like she was good but the throbbing vein on her head said otherwise, Scott's absence was really picking her nerves.
"Lately Scott's been extremely distracted, he's not paying any attention, his projects are unfinished or lacking, while I understand his interest in sports, his academics are not looking great." Mr. White said in one breath.
"Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!" Scott cursed as the mail played on his phone, he ran through Lydia's house picking his clothes one by one.
Melissa nodded casually and asked. "What do you mean by his academics?"
Mr. White exhaled through his mouth, a long impending sigh, his brows high as he opened Scott's file like it was Pandora's box and he was about to unleash chaos.
"Scott's got C's and D's all over except chemistry." He held his breath as he noticed Melissa's lip thin into a line.
"And what did he get in chemistry?" Melissa asked, her eyes aloof but he could hear the steel in her tone.
He bit down his cheeks, feeling sorry for Scott as he replied. "He failed."
A moment of silence enveloped the room, not even the wisp of breaths heard.
"He.. failed?" She asked.
He nodded before adding.
"Twice."