#after putting it off for four years my last two ged tests were on monday.. and i passed !!

[onefey]

so, update: i'm officially a highschool graduate now 😊

[littleredroseonthevalley]

An Opera on Separation - Chapter 3

Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | CH. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 | Ch. 15 | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18 |

Summary: Emily settles in to her new life in the city, while having a fortunate encounter with Zig at the teacher’s lounge. Queenie join the ranks of the New York drug dealers.

Rating: M -  Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Notes: Howdhy-ho, everyone! How’s Monday for you? How did you like the (shitty) TJ finale?

Today we have a Michael Jackson classic as theme song, so give it a listen. Also, I don’t bite (hard), so subscribe to the taglist and to my blog for all the juicest updates!

Smooth Criminal

The days passed by quickly, and soon enough it was Thursday. Emily barely noticed her first week of employment go through her, mostly because she has been so busy trying to get a footing of her new teaching career, all in the while juggling a burden in form of a parent and the set-up of an apartment.

All on her own, mind you.

She sure felt tired, but the weekend was impending, and she surely wouldn’t mind sleeping the Sunday away. It was cheap entertainment, after all.

The woman was jolted back from her thoughts by a voice coming from behind her back: “Hey, Emily.”

“Oh, hi, Zig!” She smiled at him. “I don’t see you since the meeting.”

“Yeah, I use my lunch time to have my office hours, but my students decided to give me a reprieve today.” His pearly whites flashed at her. “How are you doing, Emily? We barely had any time to talk these last few days.”

Zigmund Ortega. Only brother to four sisters. The bad boy of the Hartfeld Knights. Connecticut’s Double Threat. He was a friend from college of Emily’s, a dear one at that. They met back on her freshman year, when he worked as a barista on her favorite coffeeshop on campus.

Zig was the first recipient to the Second Chance Scholarship Program, sponsored by the now-former-NFL player and current Senator for Maine, Christopher Powell. As students, she and Chris were close friends, and when he decided to put forward Zig as a test student for the endowment.

Since Chris’ choice was due much to her own insistence, Emily felt highly-responsible about the young man. While she admits to her own hovering, it did forge a lasting relationship between them.

After Graduation, not unlike most of her relations back then, the friendship between them faded slowly, both immersed in their own lives. However, she did know that he majored in Mathematics, achieving his degree with honors and high praise amongst the New English academic community.

“I’m fine. I’m a little overwhelmed with the move and New York City, but I’m really pumped up.” Her lips turned up and her eyes shone. “It’s my first experience as a teacher. I won’t lie, it has been really hard, but I’m loving it so far!”

“Heh, that’s the feeling, alright. It’s that kind of profession you give your all, and it’s so worth it!” He smirked in response. “But, tell me, why Mrs. Sterling chose this school out of all others to teach?”

Her expression dimmed. “I’m Ms. Harper, now. Nathan and I got divorced back on Spring.”

The hazel eyes widened. The man sure wasn’t expecting that. “Jeez, Em, I’m sorry. I didn’t know!”

“Don’t worry. It’s not like it was on the papers or anything. We agreed we preferred to keep it discreet.” The redhead dismissed. “But tell me, Mr. Dean’s List, I could ask you the same question. You could teach anywhere you wanted. Why Lydia Child?”

“Well, sure I could teach at some college or at that Lanes prep school. Heck, I sure would earn a lot more cash than I do here.” He pondered. “But, those students have a whole bunch of opportunities. Here in Rosewood Creek, we’re all these kids got. I just feel I’m more needed here than anywhere else.”

“That’s… that’s very noble of you.” Emily said, surprised and admired with his reasoning. “I’m sure you’re very appreciated around here. I mean, I don’t interact much with the younger pupils, but the GED students love your classes, and the other teachers all seem to sing you praise in the halls.”

Zig let out a self-conscious laugh. “I don’t do this for being praised.”

The woman’s head nodded. “I know. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.”

“I suppose it’s nice to be recognized for it.” He conceded.

Before long, the bell rings. “Well, that’s me.” The redhead said.

“I’ll see you around, then.” He responded.

She beamed at him. “You sure will.”

Queenie Rhodes was a rightful mess.

With the hair tied on a wide, straight bun on top of her head, a muddy-colored dress she borrowed from her daughter’s bland wardrobe and no make-up whatsoever, she looked just like some Human Sciences professor.

It was a necessary evil, however, as she had to blend in the crowd that attended Columbia’s library.

She strutted confidently to the reference desk and said to the librarian: “Good morning. Could you tell me where the metaphysics books are located at?”

“It’s all the way in the back, to your left.” The aide pointed. “Do you want me to accompany you?”

“There’s no need, thank you.” The older woman smiled and walked away.

Queenie walked over to the aisle, her short heels tapping on the sleek floor. The wide windows of Butler Library let in the soft sunlight from the outside, as the day was overcast.

Her sources say that particular area of the library was used for all sorts of shady deals and exchanges. It didn’t come as a surprise, as the place had little attendance, and its positioning within the building did not favor natural lightning.

She found a table and sat next to a young girl, dressed on a heavy coat and fidgeting.

“Did you bring it?” The girl anxiously asked.

Queenie takes the small vial off her book bag and hands it over to the girl. “Twenty doses of focus pills. Two hundred dollars.”

She slides two hundred-dollar bills, which Queenie shoves on the bag. The girl pops a pill and the woman slides the chair back again and stand up to leave.

It was way too easy to sell those stressed students some sleeping pills as amphetamine. Not only that particular brand of sleep medicine was much cheaper than Adderall, it also took weeks for them to realize the problem was the drugs, not the fact they were only too tired for it to work.

By then, they would have forgotten all about her, and they wouldn’t be able to complain.

As she was leaving, she stopped by the reference desk. “Hey, miss? I saw a girl passed out on the desk over at the back.”

The librarian huffed, stressed. “Not this again! Thank you, ma’am, I’ll take care of it.”

Emily unlocked the front door of her apartment and announced, a little too loud for such a small place: “Mom! I’m home!”

As she placed her bag on the kitchen counter, her mother, laid on the couch reading a fashion magazine, greeted her: “Hey, honey. How’s work today?”

“Just fine.” She commented, as she walks into the kitchen. “I had lunch with Zig today.”

“Oh, that hunky friend of yours from college, right?” The older woman asks, captiously. “Shame he ends up on such a filthy place!”

“We ended up in ‘such a filthy place’, as you so gracefully put it.” The redhaired points out, rather annoyed. “It’s not shameful. And, in any case, Zig works at Rosewood Creek by choice.”

“Work dignifies man, and all that crap, I know.” Queenie dismissed. “Why would someone in their right mind choose to work in Uptown Manhattan?”

“He’s a very talented teacher, mom. He thinks the children here would benefit more than the spoilt brats at Park Avenue.” She counters. “I don’t want to have this discussion again with you. How was your day?”

“I picked up the groceries like you asked me to.” She responded.

“And where’s the change?” Emily asks, defying.

“There was no change. The money you left me was short.” The older woman responded, closing her magazine and walking over to the kitchen.

The daughter shook her head. “Mom, there’s no way the money I gave you wasn’t enough for food.”

“Ugh, fine!” Queenie pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her bra. “Here.”

The youngest looked at the money and at the woman. “Are you absolutely sure that’s all?”

“Yes, Emily!” She demeans. “This is all.”

The ginger took the bill and placed it on the purse with a cautious look to the woman. The matriarch held the poker face, mostly because there was thirty more dollars of change she pocketed.

Instead, the woman said: “What’s for dinner?”

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An Opera on Separation - Masterlist