Schoolgirl for a Day

Chapter 1
Schoolgirl for a Day, Chapter One

Chapter One

Roxanne stood at the front of her classroom, with all eyes on her as she was suddenly put on the spot by one of her more difficult students.

She had only been teaching at the boarding school for a few months, and regularly struggled when it came to controlling her classes or projecting authority. For starters, she was shorter than almost every girl she was supposed to be in charge of. Standing at 4’11”, even the three inch heels she wore every day only did so much to make her look taller and more mature. She also dressed more formally than any of the faculty and staff to offset her size, which made connecting with them more difficult than it already was as a new hire. As for her students, it didn’t take them long to figure out that she was kind of a pushover, or a bit of a controlling bitch whenever she finally had too much of their nonsense and ended up overreacting to the point of swinging to the complete opposite end of the personality spectrum.

On this particular day, she had been lecturing the class about how they needed to be applying themselves more. She both looked and sounded a bit stuck-up, with her long brunette hair up in a bun like it almost always was, and speaking in a bossy tone that none of the more popular girls ever took seriously. 

“What’s in it for us, Ms. Rosy?” Cynthia asked, raising her hand at the same time she interrupted.

Cynthia Lott. She was a senior, and a dedicated troublemaker in Roxanne’s class. Not just because she pounced at every opportunity she could make for herself, but also in that she knew just what to say and how to act to avoid getting written up or sent to the office. She constantly undermined Roxanne’s efforts to be taken seriously, and always managed to get away with it. Like how it was ‘Ms. Rose,’ not ‘Ms. Rosy.’ Except every time Roxanne corrected her, Cynthia played dumb and apologized, claiming that it was just a habit from having a babysitter named ‘Ms. Rosy,’ and how she promised to do better moving forward. Again, and again, and again. Roxanne was hesitant to get the girl in trouble for it, as she was nervous Cynthia would challenge the write-up. After all, was Roxanne really wasting her energy on petty mistakes like that, when she should be focused on teaching? Roxanne could also only correct Cynthia so many times before it became an awkward broken record effect, at which point she gave up and started to let it slide. Thankfully, it didn’t catch on, though it was a constant thorn in Roxanne’s side.

That was just one example. Another was the way Cynthia spoke up without waiting to be called on, while technically being respectful by raising her hand. Since it was a class of eighteen year olds, Roxanne felt weird about enforcing the rule about waiting until permission was given to speak; they were theoretically mature enough to be treated like adults, even if Cynthia and her trio of popular girls could be bratty more often than not.

The small group reminded Roxanne of some of the popular girls she went to school with growing up, which meant that their influence went a long way. So far, Cynthia had done nothing but make Roxanne’s first year difficult, but maybe it was possible to win her over and get the others to respect her more. So far, Roxanne had made no progress on that front, though she was still hoping to find some common ground with the girl.

“What do you mean, what’s in it for you?” Roxanne asked, treating the question as if it were serious when the answer should be obvious, “Higher test grades boost your GPA, and-”

“And college applications, and our future, and whatever,” Cynthia rolled her eyes, “We’ve heard it a million times. I mean, what will /you/ do for us? Don’t we deserve a little something if we all get a B or higher on our next test?”

That wasn’t exactly how it was supposed to work. A good grade was its own reward. The problem was, Cynthia’s dismissive list was basically what Roxanne had been building towards in her little speech. There was going to be no power behind those words now that they had all been predicted with a teenager’s attitude behind them. “How about an A or higher?” Roxanne countered, doing her best to think on her feet. While everyone earning a B /would/ be an improvement, it really only required a handful of her students to step up. It would be a much more impressive feat if everyone studied really hard and got an A. Still, she had no idea what a suitable reward would be. Her first impulse was a pizza party, cliché as it was, except this was her first class of the day and offering something like breakfast sounded more involved and disruptive.

“Sure,” Cynthia shrugged, “So, what if everyone aces the next test? What do we get out of it?”

“Well, what would you want?” Roxanne asked. She couldn’t think of something that might entice a whole class of girls, some of whom had already started their senior slide. It didn’t sound like Cynthia was fishing for anything specific, and Roxanne still had veto power if she or one of the others came up with something that was inappropriate or not possible. 

“Hmm,” the popular girl mused, “It would have to be something good.”

“What if she gets us all coffee for a week? Or a month?” one of Cynthia’s friends suggested.

“Or teaches class in her underwear?” the other one chimed in.

As nearly everyone giggled in response to that suggestion, Roxanne lightly flushed and realized she was once again losing control of her class. The trio of popular girls was blatantly discussing amongst themselves for everyone to hear, when each of them should be raising their hand to contribute to whatever the class was talking about. This happened to some degree nearly every day, where Roxanne had to reel the girls back in and get them to focus on the lesson instead of whatever or whomever distracted them. 

Before Roxanne could shake the embarrassing image and get everyone’s attention, Cynthia latched onto it and said, “But, actually. All of us are girls, Ms. Rosy. Teaching in your underwear would be fine.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Roxanne put her foot down, “That wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“So, you’ll bring us coffee every morning for a month? And bakery treats?” she replied, “We can pass around a sheet to write down our orders at the end of every class.”

“No! That’s not-” she hesitated, recognizing that her tone wasn’t quite as firm and proper as she usually managed to maintain while in front of the classroom. Even if she wanted to offer such a reward, it simply wasn’t possible. Quick and dirty mental math was more than enough to estimate that she’d end up spending more than half her paycheck for something like that, not to mention the logistics of transporting 20+ cups of coffee to campus. “I could do coffee and treats for a day,” she compromised. More than half the girls present came from wealthy families, which meant admitting she couldn’t afford whatever would only make them take her less seriously.

Cynthia scoffed. “A day? Do you think it will take all of us just a day to study?” She crossed her arms, going back to her other friend’s idea. “So, you won’t teach in your underwear. How about teaching in something else, then? Or is this whole ‘you deserve something for getting all A’s on a test’ nothing but talk?”

It wasn’t all talk! Roxanne just hadn’t been given any time to think of something that her students might want to earn. This lecture was supposed to be about applying themselves as a concept, not an effort/reward system. Now that the snowball had started rolling, however, it didn’t look like she was going to get away from it. And since she was somewhat stuck in the conversation with Cynthia, there hadn’t yet been a good opportunity to suggest that they pick this up tomorrow after Roxanne had a night to think of potential ideas.

“I meant what I said,” Roxanne insisted, before tentatively humoring the girl’s vague alternative, “Like, teaching in what? I’m expected to dress appropriately and professionally every day, Cynthia.” As in, no embarrassing costume or whatever.

She glanced up in thought for a moment, then smirked. “How about you wear one of our uniforms?”

Wait, what? It took a second for her words to process. All the boarding school girls were required to wear the same skirt/blazer combination, while teachers simply had to adhere to business casual at minimum. This was clearly a subtle jab about her size, as she’d look so much less mature if she dressed like a student. “Umm-”

“Our uniforms are appropriate, yes? Isn’t the whole point of wearing these to make us proper young ladies, or whatever?”

Something like that. “Yes, but-”

“But, nothing. Come on, Ms. Rosy. Dressing in uniform for a day won’t kill you. How about we put it to a vote? Everyone who thinks Ms. Rosy should dress like us?” Cynthia raised her own hand to get the ball rolling; the other two girls in her trio followed suit, creating a domino effect that had the rest of the class raising their hands until every girl was voting for the idea.

“There you go. So, you’ll do it? Unless you’d rather get us coffee for a month.”

Just like that, everyone was on Cynthia’s side. Roxanne didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t a totally unreasonable request, and it was difficult to argue against wearing something that the school approved of its students wearing. On top of that, there was the false dichotomy the girl tacked on at the end, as they both knew a single day of embarrassment was better than committing both money and an inconvenient amount of effort to the other option.

“Sure,” Roxanne relented. Yeah, it would be awkward to dress the same as the girls in her class. At the same time, maybe this would make them more engaged, and win over the popular girls by playing along with their idea. Besides, there was still the important detail that it was only going to happen if each and every one of the girls present got an A the next time they had a test. It would only take a single B to avoid dressing like a schoolgirl; meanwhile, Roxanne hoped the challenge would encourage all the girls to actually study, which would maybe impress her colleagues and superiors with the higher grades that would come from that.

“You have to say it, Ms. Rosy!” Cynthia insisted, “If we all get an A on our next test, you promise to dress in uniform. Say it.”

She really didn’t want to. While a verbal commitment was a fair request, doing it because one of her students was demanding it felt wrong. There wasn’t a good way to refuse, however, or it would prove Cynthia’s accusation that Roxanne was ‘all talk.’ So she put on a brave face, standing a little bit taller in an attempt to create the image that she was still the one in charge and going along with this was her decision. “If you all ace your next test, I’ll dress in uniform for a day. I promise.”

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[One Month Later]

Roxanne couldn’t believe it.

The class had actually done it. Each and every one of them had received an A on their tests. They hadn’t collectively cheated, had they? Doing so would have been quite difficult, as she always handed out 3-4 different tests with the questions shuffled to avoid students looking to their neighbor for help, whether said neighbor was involved or not. Roxanne also paced the room, sometimes going so far as to stand in the back for a while so no one knew what visual angle she currently had. The academy had a rather strict policy on cheating, and she assumed a class full of seniors would know better than to risk it, but it was still worth being vigilant.

Maybe they really had put in the effort. Studying together, making sure the weak links in the class were prepared for the material they’d be facing, etc. Did they all want her to dress in uniform that badly? It wasn’t exactly the most conventional form of motivation, though Roxanne had to admit that Cynthia was right in some capacity–the eighteen year olds at the academy had heard the same spiel over and over from various teachers and administrators. Apparently embarrassing their short/petite teacher was more enticing.

There also wasn’t any wiggle room when it came to grading. The entire test was multiple choice, meaning she couldn’t nudge someone down to a B+ to avoid what she had promised. Even if she did have that option, Roxanne wasn’t selfish or unethical enough to lower someone’s score. She just had to accept that they all rose to the challenge, and feel reluctantly proud of the class despite the price she had to pay for their collective success.

Roxanne handed the graded tests out on Thursday morning. She barely made it through three students before Cynthia raised her hand and spoke up. “Ms. Rosy? Can’t you just tell us how the class did?” As usual, not waiting to be called on, and using the slightly incorrect last name.

It was difficult to dismiss the request, as the whole class was clearly engaged at the moment. That so rarely happened, when Roxanne wasn’t the best at maintaining control of the older girls as a new teacher. That, and the alternative was to make everyone wait until the last student was given her test back. Trying to split the difference, she responded as professionally as she was able, “It’s ‘Ms. Rose.’ Ask properly, and I’ll tell you.” There. That gave Roxanne a second to brace herself for the news she was about to give the class, while also not caving to Cynthia’s subtly yet not so subtly disrespectful antics.

Cynthia let out a dramatic sigh. “Right. Ms. Rose. I forgot, again. Will you please tell us whether or not you’re going to be in uniform tomorrow?”

As if she was the one who had the right to sigh. Roxanne was the one who had to deal with the class being more focused on the reward she was about to verify that they had earned, rather than how she’d prefer them to be proud of themselves for doing so much better than usual on a test.

Keeping a straight face to the best of her ability, while continuing to walk from desk to desk to hand back one test at a time, Roxanne said, “I’m pleased to inform you that each and every one of you received an A. This goes to show that when you apply yourself-”

“So you will be in uniform!” Cynthia affirmed. Cutting the young woman off, she stood up and pulled out a paper shopping bag from underneath her desk. “I brought one for you, just in case. It’s the uniform I wore when I was fifteen, back when I was about your size.” Pushing her luck a little bit by walking to the front of the room instead of remaining by her seat, Cynthia placed the bag down on Roxanne’s desk and pulled out a blazer that matched what every other girl in the room including herself was wearing. “Why don’t you come up here and try it on, Ms. Rosy?”

“Please sit down, Cynthia,” Roxanne said. She regretted saying ‘please’ as soon as it slipped out, yet tried to remain firm with the rest of it. This was all moving more quickly than she had expected. The deal definitely hadn’t been that she would dress in uniform the very next day, but she had now failed twice to correct Cynthia on that point. Roxanne also had mixed feelings about wearing one of her student’s old uniforms. It was objectively easier than acquiring one through the school, though it was also embarrassing to be called out on how small she was compared to the popular girl who had outgrown her by sixteen.

Cynthia crossed her arms. “Not until you prove to us that you’re not trying to worm out of your promise. Or is that what you’re trying to do?”

It wasn’t! Roxanne was just in the middle of passing out graded tests. There was no reason to rush an account of one of her students being more bold than usual. At the same time, Roxanne was nervous for the same reason her insistence on ‘Ms. Rose’ didn’t stick. If Cynthia kept pushing back and Roxanne couldn’t figure out a mature way to discipline her, Roxanne’s authority as their teacher would be even more undermined.

“Cynthia-” she started, but that’s as far as she got.

“We’re all waiting on you, Ms. Rosy,” the girl at the front of the classroom said, suddenly speaking for all of her peers about how this needed to be resolved the second they got their tests back. “Hop to it, Miss! Come on, you owe us.”

Roxanne resisted the urge to groan. Whatever. She could hand back the other half of the pile in a minute; everyone already knew how they did, anyway. “Back to your desk, Cynthia.” This time, no ‘please.’  Just because she was giving in and trying the blazer on in front of everyone didn’t mean that she was going to allow the popular girl to further take control of her classroom.

“Yes, Ms Rosy,” Cynthia giggled. Apparently she knew better than to test an academy teacher too much, even if she could push the limits with Roxanne more than she would dare to do with the others.

As the troublemaker returned to her seat, Roxanne reluctantly started to put on the uniform’s blazer to prove that she was a teacher of her word. And, when it fit almost perfectly, she knew she was going to be stuck wearing the whole ensemble the following day.