Milicent's POV
I sprinted towards the classroom door, every muscle in my body straining to get me to class on time. Our math teacher was closing in behind me, and I knew I had less than a minute to avoid being late for the test that could make or break my grades.
I clutched my tie in one hand and had a sweater tied haphazardly around my waist as I burst through the classroom door, still running. My shirt was untucked, flapping open in a state of complete disorder. My usual neat and tidy self was nowhere to be seen- I was the top student, after all. And yet, here I was, late for the first time in my life.
As I caught my breath, I shouted, "Mr. Jude is coming!" Pandemonium erupted. My classmates scrambled to their seats, arranging themselves into order, pretending like they'd been there all along. I rushed to my own seat, collapsing into it with a gasp. My friends turned to stare at me, their eyes wide with surprise as they took in my unpleasant appearance.
Just as everyone turned to stare at me, about to react to my disheveled state, the classroom door swung open and Mr. Jude walked in; briefcase in hand, looking neat despite his worn trousers. The room fell silent, for Mr. Jude was the most feared teacher in school- strict and harsh.
I rose with the rest of the class, joining in the chorus of "Good morning, sir." Mr. Jude nodded curtly, his eyes scanning the room, before signaling for us to take our seats.
Mr. Jude strode to the board and scrawled "Test" in bold letters, sending a collective groan through the class. The room was filled with silent grumbling and disbelieving stares. Everyone had thought he was joking when he said we would be having a test.
Honestly, what was Mr. Jude's problem? It was only the second day of term, and he was already piling on the stress. We'd all been hoping for a new math teacher this year, but it seemed the school had decided to "graciously" bestow Mr. Jude's presence upon us once again.
Just as the murmurs were getting louder, Mr. Jude spun around, his eyes flashing with warning. "Anymore grumbling, minus 10!"
The class fell silent, but then someone piped up with a tentative "Sir?"
Mr. Jude's expression turned dark. "For that, it's minus 20!" The room erupted into shocked gasps and disbelieving whispers.
I turned to my friends, and we all looked like we were on the verge of tears. The man was ruthless. And then it hit me - if the test was worth 20 points, and we'd already lost 20 points...that means we'd all scored zero. The thought sent a chill down my spine.
"No this can't be happening," I thought, my mind racing with implications. I was a straight - A student, and the thought of suffering for someone else's mistake was unbearable.
Just then, a girl spoke up, her voice filled with desperation. "Sir, that is so unfair! We're not even allowed to take the test!"
Mr. Jude's expression turned hard, his eyes flashing with anger. "So you think you're in your last year and can talk back to me?" he sneered. "I'm still the same old Mr. Jude, don't try me."
Someone in the back murmured, "Yeah, with that one shoe that already has a hole." The room was filled with suppressed laughter, shoulders shaking slightly as we struggled to maintain straight faces.
Mr. Jude's face turned beet red with rage. "Who said that?" he thundered, his voice echoing off the walls. The room fell silent, the only sound of the heavy breathing of my classmates. "Either you speak up or all of you will suffer," Mr. Jude warned, his eyes scanning the room.
Then, a voice from the back spoke up, "Sir, tortoise is the one that is called "all of you," and he's not here." The room was stunned, and I was amazed at my classmate's bravery.
Mr. Jude's face turned an even deeper shade of red, his anger visible. "I see..." he said, his voice filled with spite.
Just as Mr. Jude was about to unleash his wrath, the Principal's voice boomed through the intercom. "All teachers are needed in the boardroom for a meeting. Please maintain decorum until the teachers return." Mr. Jude shot us a warning glance, grabbed his briefcase, and stormed out of the classroom without a word.
My classmates and I exchanged relieved glances. One of them, still grinning, said, "That man hasn't seen anything yet. We'll show him wickedness this term!"
Another chimed in, "Let him think he can push us around, mtcheww!" The room erupted into a chorus of laughter and snickers.
I watched my classmates, amazed by their fearlessness. But I knew I wanted no part in their plans. I was a straight - A student, and I wasn't about to risk my grades for the sake of revenge.
Oh, right, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Milicent Ariel Kaden, but my friends call me Millie. I'm 17, and this is my final year at Majesty Heights High School. And if today is any indication, it's going to be a long one.
My friends, Bailey Lane and Samantha Till, rushed over to me. They've been my best friends since middle school, and right now, their worried faces were a welcome sight.
"Why is Mr. Jude even angrier this term?" I asked as soon as they reached me.
Bailey leaned in, lowering her voice. "There's been a rumor going around since yesterday that his daughter is in the hospital."
My stomach dropped. That explained a lot, but before I could process it, Sam cut in. "That's the least of our problems right now. Millie, what happened to you?" She gestured at me, her eyes wide. "You came late, you look like you just crawled out of a bush, and..." She reached out, plucking a small stick from my hair, "...is this...foliage? What's going on?"
I sighed, running a hand through my messy hair. "I'll explain everything, but first, follow me to the toilet. I need to get myself together."
"Fine," Bailey said, crossing her arms. "But you're telling us everything. No secrets."
I nodded, slinging my bag over my shoulder. The three of us turned towards the door, but as we stepped into the hallway, we nearly collided with Dawn Everett, the school's queen bee. She raised an eyebrow, her perfectly glossed up lips curling into a smirk as she looked me up and down.
"Well, well," she drawled. "It looks like someone had a rough morning. Did you lose a fight with a lawnmower, Milicent?"
Her posse giggled behind her, but I ignored them, brushing past without a word. I had bigger problems than Dawn's attitude right now.
"You would've let me give her a piece of my mind," Sam grumbled as we continued walking.
"Look, you guys know me. I'll do anything to avoid trouble, so let's keep it that way this term," I said firmly.
"You're such a nerd. Too good," Bailey teased, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, but not foolish and ignorant," I shot back, and they both sighed.
We reached the toilet, and as usual, it was spotless - white tiles gleaming under the fluorescent lights. We stepped into the area with the mirrors and faucets, separate from the main stalls. I untied the sweater from my waist, and as I did, my friends gasped.
"Millie! Your skirt! At the back! What happened?" they screamed in unison.
I bowed my head, avoiding their eyes.