The Teaching Assistant

Chapter 14
The Teaching Assistant, Part Fourteen

Part Fourteen

Letting out a small sigh as the door closed behind her, Amelia walked in what she hoped was the right direction. She had admittedly lost her bearings after the multiple stops she made with Ashley earlier, followed by the walk from the testing room to Ms. Song’s office. But, if it meant having a moment to herself, then she would prefer roaming down the hall and making a few educated guesses about the upcoming turns. 

Most of all, she wanted to take off the flats from the Lost & Found. Her feet could really use a breather from the slightly too tight footwear. However, there wasn’t a bench or a chair to be found nearby, and there wasn’t really any time for a break even if she wanted to take one. Ashley was meeting her back at the lobby, and there was already a good chance Amelia was going to waste time with a wrong turn or two. 

At least Ms. Song wasn’t around to get on her case any longer. As Amelia made her way to the end of the first hall and took a left, she used the temporary solitude as an opportunity to fidget with the unfamiliar uniform. Sitting still for so long would have been a lot easier in her normal outfit. She adjusted the blazer, tucked the dress shirt a little farther into the plaid green skirt, and straightened the tie that probably didn’t actually need straightening. The last thing Amelia needed was for the office girl with the unfair curves to remark on any imperfections in the already demeaning outfit.

As expected, Amelia ended up taking a few wrong turns along the way. Thankfully, no one was around to watch her double back a few times to try another hallway. The building was only so big, thankfully. Before too long, she found her way back to the lobby. Not quickly enough, apparently, as the familiar dark haired student was already waiting for her.

Ashley was off to the side, leaning against the wall and texting. She glanced up from the screen when she caught Amelia’s movements in her peripherals, or perhaps the faint clack of the flats. “Hey, Millie,” she said. Pushing off the wall and tucking her phone into her blazer pocket, she smiled. “Took you long enough.”

It was one thing for Amelia to bite her tongue in Ms. Song’s stern presence, but the prospective teaching assistant’s patience was growing thin. She would begrudgingly play this game around the other adults, but not with one of the students. “It’s Amelia.” Flat tone, and no concessions of ‘Amy’ or ‘Ames’ like before. The girl really shouldn’t have been using her first name to begin with, even if they met in the office instead of a classroom. But it was too late to insist on ‘Ms. Martin.’ For now. 

“Sorry, Millie,” Ashley shrugged, “That’s what all your documents say. If you want to change your preferences, there’s a form you can fill out. But later, okay? We’re already behind schedule.”

Wait, what? 

Amelia hadn’t expected the girl to echo the awful nickname after the correction, but the explanation threw her even more. It didn’t sound like Ashley was kidding, but since when did names work like that? Normally, it’s the reverse. Someone gets called by their full name, and then expresses the nickname they go by. But not only was Amelia dealing with the pervasive roleplay she had been thrust into since putting on the Westridge uniform, but her inexperience with private schools pushed back against whatever doubts she had in regards to Ashley’s response.

Which reminded Amelia of her internal question from earlier. “That’s not what I put on the form,” she said. Maybe a student would be more keen to break character than an administrator, or at least more willing to be honest about what was going on with her ‘first day experience.’

“Huh, really?” Ashley asked, “Could be a filing error. Do you know who was working when you faxed your stuff in?”

Of course not. The whole point of faxing is that it’s done over a machine. “No,” Amelia simply replied. No need to take her frustrations out on a teenager. “Don’t you?”

Ashley just shrugged. “No idea. When did you fax it? Actually, never mind. I’m not that familiar with the schedule. I just know when I work.”

“Okay, but you can still call me ‘Amelia.’ The files don’t really matter; I’m just here for the day anyway.”

Walking the rest of the way over, the dark haired girl placed a hand on Amelia’s shoulder and looked down into her eyes. When they were face to face, the height difference was a lot more dramatic. Per the student handbook, high school girls were permitted to wear heels, but flats were required for the younger students. Amelia had only skimmed the handbook per Mrs. Thompson’s suggestion; the only reason she remembered this detail is because Ashley pressured her to fully follow the school’s dress code earlier. 

There was a reason Amelia normally wore heels. When barefoot, she stood a fraction of an inch taller than five feet. Even with the advantage tactical footwear gave, she still fell on the shorter side. The most she ever had was an extra two or three inches, as the physical cost of wearing anything more than that outweighed the height benefits. With the borrowed flats, however, the petite blonde was back to her small stature. Ashley, on the other hand, was wearing what looked like one-inch heels. Amelia had already mentally dealt with their height disparity earlier, but it seemed worse now that she actually had to look so far up to meet the girl’s eyes.

“Have you ever tried going by ‘Millie?’ Like, really tried?”

“Of course not,” Amelia said, “I like my full name just how it is.”

“So you haven’t tried?” Ashley asked.

Sighing, Amelia answered in the proper way Ms. Song had enforced earlier. “No, Ashley. I’ve never tried going by ‘Millie.’”

Softly smiling, Ashley said, “Maybe you should.”

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