Published: February 14th 2025, 4:10:27 am
By the time Roxanne found a box of black flats that were her size and changed into them, Neve had gotten the nearby machine up and running and was holding up a freshly printed and laminated ID for her. “Huh. Have you always been this short?” Neve asked. She sounded more curious than judgmental.
“Umm, yeah,” Roxanne admitted, with a light blush, “I prefer to wear heels when I teach.” Or, more accurately, whenever in public.
Indirectly calling out her flushed cheeks, Neve chuckled and said, “There’s no need to be embarrassing by your height, Roxie. Besides, this is actually perfect. Now you’ll fit right in with the other students!”
“I prefer ‘Roxanne,’” she muttered. That, and ‘Roxie’ kind of sounded like a stripper name. She had nothing against that profession, and there were probably other women who pulled off the nickname, but Roxanne had never personally been a fan. Also, she didn’t want to fit right in. While she saw Neve’s point about adhering to the rules about the uniform, she was still going to be teaching all day.
“Got it. Roxanne,” Neve nodded. She had no reason to push the shortened version of the brunette’s name on her, when the student ID had a completely different name on it. “Okay, just one more thing to take care of, and then we’re good to go. You need to do something else with your hair.”
“My hair?” Roxanne asked; the realization set in a moment later. “Oh. Right . . . ” Like usual, her long locks were up in a neat bun. The boarding school girls had to follow a rather strict policy when it came to acceptable hairstyles. They could either wear it down, or in a simple ponytail or braid. From what Roxanne understood, a good portion of the handbook rules revolved around efficiency; in this case, it was about getting students out the door in the morning without them getting caught up with an unnecessarily extensive routine.
Roxanne was glad she never attended a school like this. In both high school and college, she spent a long time every morning putting herself together with all those elements that offset her more youthful features.
“How about a ponytail?” Neve suggested, “We don’t really have time to braid it, and you probably don’t want to wear it down.”
She was right. Roxanne’s hair was never that messy after letting it down, though it would still be imperfect when she always strived to look her best in public. Especially while teaching. Of course, the trade-off of going with the simple style was that she would look even more ridiculous than she already did in the schoolgirl outfit.
Hesitantly undoing her bun, trusting that Neve had the right idea about not giving her class any openings to claim she didn’t follow through on her promise to dress up like a student, Roxanne brushed her hair back and then glanced towards her fellow teacher. Maybe it looked fine when worn down after all?
Neve wasn’t looking yet. She had lifted her hand to check her watch, at which point she said, “Oh. Shit. We don’t have a lot of time. Here, let me do it for you!” Walking up to Roxanne, way taller than her now that Roxanne had lost three inches of height, Neve took a second to tuck the student ID in the front pocket of the uniform’s blazer before using the girl’s shoulders to turn her to face the opposite direction. “Hair tie?” She extended her hand past Roxanne’s body, with her palm open expectantly.
Roxanne wanted to say that she could do it herself. It wasn’t as if putting her hair in a ponytail was a difficult task, even if she hadn’t worn it like that for years. However, she had already been a little flustered before the time pressure that had just been added on. Showing up to teach like this was embarrassing enough as it was; for the same reason she was going the ‘extra mile’ where the uniform was concerned, Roxanne didn’t want to give the girls any opportunities to call her out on anything else while she was dressed like this. Plus there was the ongoing logic/justification that Neve was going out of her way to help her, when the confident blonde could have just walked away back in the parking lot.
“Can you think of anything else you wouldn’t be allowed to bring to class if you were a student?” Neve asked, as she ran her fingers through Roxanne’s hair.
“Well . . . ” Roxanne trailed off. Honestly, most of what she had with her would be against the rules as written. Her phone, for starters, though she doubted that would be a problem if she kept it in her inner breast pocket. That was one of the reasons she accepted the terms to begin with, as the girls in her class wouldn’t be able to take a picture of her like this; if they did, Roxanne would confiscate their phone and make them delete it before giving it back at the end of the day. Students were allowed to carry purses, but they had to be small and neutral colored in a way that matched their uniforms. Roxanne’s accessory somewhat fit that criteria, though probably not well enough to pass a uniform inspection.
Neve knew exactly what she was doing. If she had outright told Roxanne to give up her things, it wouldn’t be quite as smooth. Instead, she let the petite girl come to the conclusion all by herself. And, as Roxanne expressed doubts about whether or not her purse was something a student would be allowed to walk around with, Neve put her hair up in a high ponytail that would look slightly less mature than the normal version.
As soon as she felt the way Neve was gathering her hair farther up than she expected, Roxanne started to say something, “Wait, can’t I-”
“Roxanne, we don’t have a lot of time,” Neve pressed. Effortlessly pulling her brunette locks through the hair band a few times, she then turned Roxanne back around to face her. “Why don’t I take your purse and leave it in the teacher’s lounge for you? Do you need anything from it before lunch?”
“I don’t think so?” Roxanne replied. She knew she didn’t need anything for the next couple hours; the uptick was more in regards to giving up her personal things. Still, Neve wasn’t wrong. Now that Roxanne was caught up in trying to avoid her students calling out technicalities, and was already suffering where her hair and footwear were concerned, leaving her purse behind wasn’t that much of a stretch.
Neve helped the process along by taking the strap and sliding it off Roxanne’s shoulder. Still using the time pressure as an excuse to push her agenda, she asked, “And your phone? Students are supposed to leave those in their rooms.”
“They’re not going to see that, or hear it,” Roxanna said. Finally putting her foot down about something, since her phone was in her breast pocket and on silent, she stepped back and asked, “Well? How do I look?”
She literally looked like a student. Back in the parking lot, it was an understandable mistake due to Roxanne’s size and how she was turned away. But now? Neve knew it was Roxanne, and knew that the petite brunette was a young adult, yet it was still quite a convincing image now that the girl’s hair was up and she had lost some of her height.
“I think you’re good,” Neve said, “Just make sure you don’t get caught using your phone. And don’t break any other rules, of course! Now, what do you say?”
Roxanne didn’t realize she was fishing for a ‘thank you.’ After a moment of confusion, Neve spelled it out for her. With a sigh and a bit of a scoff, Roxanne said, “Thank you, Miss.”
“You’re very welcome, young lady,” Neve chuckled, “Now, run along!”
There wasn’t actually a reason to get into character. While students were supposed to treat authority figures with respect, including certain responses and formal titles, Roxanne’s penalty was only about the way she was dressed. This was just Neve having some fun. Not wanting to be a bad sport, Roxanne rolled her eyes and said, “Yes, Miss.”
As soon as Roxanne had turned the corner, Neve jumped into action.
Sitting down at Eleanor’s computer, knowing she’d be able to talk her way out of it if the woman came back earlier than expected, Neve pulled up Roxanne’s student roster and added ‘Meadow Thorne’ to the list.
“Hmm . . . ” Humming to herself in thought, tapping the desk and staring at the screen, Neve decided to leave things there for now. She did want to make some further edits to the school’s records, in case Roxanne decided to be a brat, but it was also pretty clear that the girl was kind of a push over. For the time being, Neve pulled out her phone and made a call that was more pressing than screwing with Roxanne via the registration system. “Hey, Janet? Are you available to sub today?” “ . . . No, not for me. One of my colleagues is sick and I told her I’d ask around.” “You’re the best, Janet! I can meet you in the lobby to give you Roxy’s lesson plans and whatever else.” “Perfect. See you soon!”
Grinning to herself, wondering how Roxanne would fare against the stern Asian woman that was one of her go-to subs, Neve got to work creating a student file for ‘Meadow.’
-----------------------
Roxanne made it to her classroom without running into anyone else she knew, feeling self conscious every time she felt her ponytail swish as she fast-walked across campus. Tempted as she was to check the time on her phone like usual, she listened to Neve’s advice and kept the device out of sight. Despite the detour to the office, Roxanne knew that she wasn’t going to be late to class by any means. She just preferred to get to her room early to settle in, do one final skim of her lesson plans for the morning, and be there to keep the girls in line as they arrived. The last part was more about her presence than anything else, as students tended to be less behaved when they had a classroom to themselves.
Exhaling in relief when there weren’t any girls loitering outside her door, which she had seen happen on the rare occasion when one of her fellow teachers was running later, Roxanne unlocked the classroom and made a beeline for her desk. Cynthia and her disruptive friends were already taller than her on a normal day, and Roxanne could only imagine the smirks and whispers she’d face if they saw how short she was without heels. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice if she was seated while they were standing, and then standing when all the girls were seated at their own desks.
As Roxanne sat down, the already too-short skirt rode up an inch or two. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath. Why hadn’t she thought of finding a better fitting skirt a few minutes ago?! The only reason she had dismissed that idea the other day was because she didn’t want to be seen by anyone in the office. But she had just been there with Neve, and changed from heels to flats. There were probably spare skirts in the same area.
Well, it was too late now. Kicking herself for not taking advantage of all the time she had with Neve to get the uniform perfect, Roxanne began pulling out her materials to review.
She only had a few minutes of peace and quiet before Cynthia’s voice broke the silence. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed, “That’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
Roxanne tried not to grimace. She hated being called ‘cute’ and, though she had a distaste for the difficult student, it wouldn’t be professional to show it on her face. Why was Cynthia even there? She was normally sauntering into the classroom at the very last second. Of course, Roxanne knew why. “Language, Cynthia,” she said. Embarrassing as the uniform she was wearing was, Roxanne was still the teacher and Cynthia needed to follow the academy rules.
“Well, come on,” Cynthia said, gesturing for her to get up, “Let’s take a look at you, Ms. Rosy. We need to make sure you got everything right.”
“That’s okay,” Roxanne said, too caught off guard by the trio’s arrival to correct the last name, “I’m wearing the uniform, Cynthia. You’ll see the full thing in a few minutes.”
Cynthia just shrugged. “Okay. Let’s start First Period with a uniform inspection, if you want to waste class time on it. I thought I’d do you a favor by getting here earlier, but whatever.”
The alternative option had the intended effect. Roxanne could easily picture Cynthia insisting on doing something like that, and her classmates would obviously back her up. Maintaining authority over the older girls was difficult enough under normal circumstances; she could only imagine how it would be when everyone saw her and Cynthia side by side.
Why did she ever make this stupid bet with them? The only reason Roxanne agreed, aside from the peer pressure, was because she didn’t think they’d actually band together and collectively do so well on the test.
“Fine,” she huffed, coming across more like a teenager than she realized due to her image. Neve was certainly right about the girls wanting to scrutinize the ensemble; it was a good thing the two of them made a few uniform adjustments before this interaction. The down side was that Roxanne was going to have to do the very thing she had been trying to avoid. But if she had to do so either way, it was best to suffer through it without an audience.
Roxanne stood up and circled around to the front of her desk, trying to keep up her professional facade as she crossed her arms and met Cynthia’s eyes. “See? Fully in uniform. Now, can we-”
“Wow, you are short!” Cynthia exclaimed. She immediately noticed what the flats did to Roxanne’s size, “Is this your natural height?”
Not dignifying what was mostly a rhetorical question anyway, Roxanne repeated herself about how she had dressed up as promise and that she was following the same rules the academy students did.
“Wait, did you make a student ID? Or is this your driver’s license?” Rather than waiting for Roxanne to show them the card, or asking permission to take it, Cynthia reached out and plucked it from Roxanne’s breast pocket. Looking it over, she tilted her head in curiosity upon reading the name. “Huh. What, you didn’t want to use your real name?”
“What are you talking about?” Roxanne asked. She took the ID back, frustrated that Cynthia was walking all over her like usual. More than usual, since the popular girl had been the one who instigated the conversation that led to this bet. What Roxanne hadn’t anticipated, however, was the blatantly wrong name on the card. “Hmm. The machine must have used the most recently printed name, or something.” She really didn’t know how it worked. Apparently Neve didn’t, either. Similar to how Roxanne had forgotten to change skirts when she had the opportunity, she and Neve must have been in too much of a rush to check the name on the card.
Cynthia just smiled. “I think ‘Meadow’ is perfect. That can be your student name! It doesn’t really make sense to call you ‘Ms. Rosy’ while you’re in uniform.”
“It’s ‘Ms. Rose,” Roxanne said, frowning at the multiple iterations of disrespect. She tucked the ID back in her pocket and took her seat again, assuming that the lack of comments towards the outfit itself meant that the only problem with the ensemble was how immature it made her look. “This is just me following through on my word, for a job well done in terms of your studies. That’s it.”
“Don’t be like that, Meadow!” Cynthia pouted, “Your student ID is part of your uniform, which means it’s part of the bet. Isn’t that right, girls?”
The other two agreed immediately. No surprises there.
Before Roxanne had a chance to respond about how ridiculous it was to call her by a fake first name, a small group of girls filtered into the classroom. Ever the social butterfly, Cynthia greeted them with a smile and walked over to mingle, leaving Roxanne to deal with the uncertainty of how the coming class would go. It was frustrating enough when Cynthia undermined her with ‘Ms. Rosy.’ Would she really address her by ‘Meadow,’ when no one else in the room understood the reference?
It was impossible for Roxanne to focus on anything. Each student that walked into the room was another glance, whisper, and/or giggle about how their teacher was dressed like a schoolgirl in a high ponytail. All she could do was hope that this served as some kind of lesson about how academic effort could pay off, albeit in a much different way than she first tried to explain to the girls. And at the expense of her dignity for the next eight hours or so.
When it was nearly 8 AM, at which point she would tell those who hadn’t yet taken their seats to do so, a slim woman Roxanne had never met stepped into the classroom. She was either in her 30s or 40s; it was difficult to tell at first glance. Regardless, she had an intimidating scowl as she laid eyes on Roxanne.
“What are you doing up here, young lady?” she asked, “Get up, right now, and take your proper seat. This is your first and last warning.”