The Teaching Assistant

Chapter 45
The Teaching Assistant, Part 45

Part 45

Amelia half expected Ashley to materialize behind her and drag her out of the library and back towards the fake student existence she had concocted for the would-be teaching assistant. Instead, she found a pleasantly quiet and uneventful space. 

Since it was right after breakfast on a Saturday, there were only a handful of students within sight. A few girls silently worked at the tables, while a couple others were milling about. Like Amelia when she was actually a student, these girls were probably the more studious and dedicated types. Delayed gratification was the least stressful approach, after all. Homework now, relaxing later. 

It didn’t take long for Amelia to spot a workstation off to the side with a handful of computers. Thank goodness. Westridge was quite the juxtaposition, since it was old fashioned in a lot of ways, yet also had such a strong academic reputation. Because of that, Amelia had been a little worried that the library would be all books and nothing else. While the space did have that old, beautiful look, it had clearly been adapted for the modern world. 

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Amelia made a beeline for the edge of the room. Walking as quickly as she could without risking one of the librarians getting on her case about it, she chose the seat in the corner that faced the entrance. Perfect for seeing if anyone problematic was arriving, while also giving her a spot to hide if that happened. Taking a moment to adjust the plaid skirt that rode up more than she cared for when she sat down, Amelia clicked the mouse a couple times once she was settled in. 

The screen switched from its black idle state to a page with two simple words: Student ID.

Amelia’s heart dropped when she saw the empty box. Ever since waking up, she had had such tunnel vision about finding a public computer. Despite her single-mindedness, she hadn’t once stopped to consider that the academy’s devices might be locked. Staring at the blinking cursor for a few seconds, she hesitantly typed in, ‘Amelia Roberts.’ Her first name, Ashley’s last name. 

When that didn’t work, she quickly tried every possible iteration of the two names she could think of. Amelia and Millie, a few combinations of uppercase and lowercase letters, and finally a couple attempts at abbreviating one side or the other. Wanting to groan in frustration, she settled for an annoyed huff instead. The last thing she needed to do was draw attention to herself in the quiet library. Not completely giving up, Amelia wandered over to the librarian’s counter after taking a cautious look towards the double doors first. “Umm, excuse me?” she politely greeted. 

The woman on the other side was facing the opposite direction. Pausing from the sorting she had been working on, she turned around and asked, “May I help you, young lady?”

“Yes, Miss,” Amelia replied, immediately blushing at how much she sounded like a schoolgirl. The librarian before her didn’t have a nametag, or anything nearby that denoted who she was, so Amelia’s ‘proper Westridge girl’ manner of speaking was cut short at the title. As if she didn’t look and sound enough like a student, her flushed cheeks would surely pile onto the immature image. “The computer is asking for my student ID, and . . . ” Amelia wasn’t quite sure how to finish her thought.

“Ah, you must be a transfer student,” she nodded, “I didn’t think I recognized you. As for computer access, it’s quite simple. Just enter the number on your ID card. Oh, and all of our desktops are cleared each evening, so make sure you save anything important online or on an external drive.”

The latter part sounded familiar enough, as saving things long term on public computers was rarely a good idea. As for the more pressing information, however . . . “I don’t think I have an ID card,” Amelia said. Unless it was somehow hiding in one of the pockets of the academy binder she had been given, which didn’t feel like the way any school would hand out something important like that, then she had no idea what the librarian was talking about. Maybe Ashley secretly withheld it from her? As an office assistant and ‘Amelia’s cousin,’ she certainly had the means to. 

“Hmm. What’s your name?” the older woman asked.

“Amelia. M- umm, Roberts,” Amelia said. For once, she didn’t have to deal with the awkward nickname, although she still ended up catching and correcting herself on the other part.

After a quick search, she said, “Ah, you just transferred here. Welcome to Westridge, by the way. If you weren’t given a student ID yesterday, then the office will probably be taking care of that first thing on Monday. In the meantime, you should have been issued a temporary login number for library and computer lab use. You were given a binder and handbook, yes?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I mean, yes, Miss.”

“Mrs. Gray.” Giving her name after realizing that Amelia didn’t know it, she replied, “And I figured. They wouldn’t have waited for Monday for that. If you look in your binder, one of the introductory pages should have an ID number you can use this weekend.”

Her binder. As in, the binder that was all the way back in her dorm room. Could she even go there if she wanted to? Amelia thought back, trying to remember if one of the two senior girls locked the door. She had been too distracted by stepping out into the hall and starting the day as an alleged student. Still, locking up was pretty standard when it came to dorms. If Ashley wanted to limit how much control Amelia had over her Saturday . . . “Do you have it in your system somewhere?” Amelia asked. Because now that she was thinking about it, she hadn’t been given a key to her room. Ashley had escorted her there both times.  

“I’m afraid not,” Mrs. Gray said, “Someone in the main office would probably be able to find that for you, although I don’t know if the right person for that would be there today. It would take about the same time for you to go back to your dorm, anyway.”

Naturally, Mrs. Gray came to the same conclusion Amelia did a few moments ago. If Amelia was asking if it was possible to look it up, that meant she hadn’t brought her binder to the library with her. “But-” Amelia hesitated, trying to think of an alternative solution. Heading back to the other building meant potentially running into Ashley, Claire, Summer, or even another prefect who might complicate things. Plus the whole trip would be a total waste of time if she couldn’t get through the door. “Could I use yours?” she asked, “It will just take a minute. You can watch the whole time, too.”

The woman shook her head. “Sorry, Amelia. That’s against policy.”

Even with the supervision idea Amelia had thrown out there? Frowning in frustration, and mentally scrambling to think of anything else that didn’t require leaving the library, Amelia took a different tactic, “Could you look something up for me, then? I can stay right here and everything; I don’t need to see.”

“Look up what?” she tentatively asked, “I do have work to attend to, Ms. Roberts. If you think about it, you could have been halfway back to your room by now.”

Amelia knew what she wanted to say. However, she needed to be careful. It sounded like Mrs. Gray was close to dismissing her completely, and anything that strayed too far from Amelia’s current student existence would be met with the usual disbelief. Then again, maybe just going for it was fine, as long as she didn’t go into detail. “Amelia Martin,” she said. Rather than trying to claim that’s who she really was, the petite blonde was hoping the online search would do the work for her. “Education major?” she added. There were probably a couple other people out there who shared her name.

“Is this for a research project?” Mrs. Gray asked. Surprisingly, she actually did start typing. Giving the results a quick glance, she said, “Looks like there’s a couple Amelia Martins. You’re looking for the PhD woman, I’m guessing?”

“Umm, no. Not her,” Amelia mumbled. This was what she got for staying vague, “What about the others? Are there . . . Do any of them look like me?” She had to try. 

With an emphatic click of the mouse, the librarian said, “I think you’d be better off with your own search. Why don’t you go get your binder? I bet it will be worth the trip, anyway. Then you’ll have the rest of your weekend assignments within reach.”

Theoretically, the logic made sense, except Amelia didn’t want to camp out in the library and work on homework. If she were really a student, sure. That’s what she would be doing right now. However, she wasn’t a student, which was exactly why she was so determined to sort this all out at soon as possible. “What about . . . “ Amelia was about to ask about a phone, before she remembered that she didn’t have any useful numbers memorized. “What about a computer that doesn’t need an ID?” she asked. Mostly course correcting from her original thought, as she doubted such a public desktop existed on campus.

Mrs. Gray just sighed. “A walk might be good for you, Amelia. Stretch your legs and get some air. The library and its computers will still be here when you get back. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No, Mrs. Gray,” Amelia replied. Not if the woman behind the counter was sticking with policy. And a walk to the dorms wasn’t particularly long, so it was impossible for Amelia to argue about what would be such a simple trip for the average student. Heck, she had occasionally forgotten something important back in her room at university, and it wasn’t the end of the world when she had to swing back. 

“Alright, then,” she said, “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Roberts. I hope you enjoy your time at Westridge, and I’ll be here if you have any further library-related questions.”

Subtle. Amelia resisted the urge to let out her own sigh. Instead, she forced out a polite, “Thank you, Mrs. Gray.” 

Amelia turned back towards the main section of the library. She had come so far. Was she really about to leave?