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lavendercharm · 3 months

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Linger, Chapter 2: Evil Woman

Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.

Warnings: Strong Language

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For as irate as she’d made you, you knew you owed credit where credit was due: Melissa was a phenomenal teacher.

You’d watched her teach math after settling into your desk, masking her disdain toward you effortlessly as she started her lesson. Her passion and love for her work was undeniable. Even more, her kids seemed to adore her. Everyone has those teachers who stay with them as they grow up, and you had no doubt Melissa would be that teacher for quite a few of her kids. Sure, they were silly, rambunctious, and easily distracted, as are most eight and nine year olds. But there was a strong undercurrent of respect for their teacher. The fact that she managed all of this while teaching two grades was immensely impressive.

You didn’t care if it was petty: the fact that she was just that good made you all the more irritated.

You watched her with contempt and tried to ignore the budding admiration that was almost imperceptible beneath it all. ‘She’s had plenty of years to practice,’ you think to yourself grumpily, but despite your best efforts, you couldn’t put any real malice behind the words. You didn’t really care about how old she was. You were simply stewing in your feelings, the knowledge that she was apparently touchy about her age the only ammunition you had at the moment. Seeing as you couldn’t find much of anything to criticize when it came to her teaching abilities, you were grasping at straws.

After her last biting comment, you managed to make it through the rest of the morning mostly unscathed. A few sharp glances had been thrown in your direction as you made your way around the room assisting the kids who asked for help, but you’d resolved to ignore them. You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her dirty looks.

The morning flew by in a flurry of math, reading, and science. You’d started to learn a bit about the kids in your temporary class. There was Jameela, a third grader who’s favorite color was yellow and who had a new kitten at home named Butterscotch; Kaden, a third grader who loved Minecraft and hated jelly beans; Antonia, a second grader who’d corrected you that she went by ‘Toni’ and who’d beamed when you told her she hadn’t made a single mistake on her math sheet; and Lawrence, a third grader who was terribly shy, yet wonderfully intuitive. You’d given him a giant grin as you helped him sound out a word he didn’t know.

You could feel your sour mood gradually beginning to lift as you’d made your way through the room. Helping students reminded you why you were here. After the events of this morning, the only thing you really wanted to do was keep your head down, do your work, and make it through the end of the day without having another… disagreement with Melissa Schemmenti.

Turns out you wouldn’t make it to lunch.

A few minutes before 12:30, Melissa gruffly mutters to you in passing that she has lunch duty today. Glancing at the schedule she’d petulantly tossed on your desk earlier, you saw her class had Art and Recess after lunch. As you open your mouth to ask if Melissa wants you to take the kids, she abruptly cuts you off, holding up a hand to silence you. Narrowing her eyes, she bitingly snaps, “I got it. I wanna make sure they get there on time."

The anger that had started to simmer down boils over, becoming white-hot, the suffocating feeling welling up inside of your chest. You’d hoped to move on from this morning, but it was becoming quickly apparent that Melissa Schemmenti knew how to hold a grudge. You clench your jaw, aiming for a low blow you knew would land. "Don't break a hip on the way there," you quietly sneer. You weren't proud of it, but you were pissed and giving into the urge to lash out.

There was an intense flash of animosity in her eyes. You know she heard you, and you're sure you'd be dead on the spot if it weren't for the kids in the room with you. The look in her eyes could peel the skin off of you. "What was that?" she practically growls, her tone low to avoid drawing attention to you both.

You didn't think she’d go so far as to physically fight you in front of her students, but you noticed her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides, and suddenly you weren't so sure. You'd been in exactly one fight in your life, and you weren't all that convinced that punching a boy in the nose for making fun of you when you were eight even counted. A darker part of you wanted to see how far you could push the woman, but the last thing you needed was to lose your job by continuing to provoke a full-time faculty member.

Instead of playing into the desire to take things further, you use the only protection you can think of: drawing the attention of the students. Raising your voice slightly above your normal speaking volume, you retort, "I said 'Suit yourself, Miss Schemmenti!’ What do you think I said?" Being unable to resist one final jab, you force a genial tone and add, "Maybe you should get your hearing checked!"

A couple of students giggle, and you see a muscle in Melissa’s jaw jump out as she clenches her teeth together. She’s practically bursting at the seams to pounce on you and rip your head off. Her nostrils flair with the effort of holding herself together. You find yourself suddenly struck once more by how beautiful she is. There’s a dusting of color high on her cheeks and her eyes are alight with intensity. Her full lips are fighting the urge to pull apart and bare her teeth in a snarl. She was gorgeous.

You couldn’t fucking stand it.

She manages to bite out a very forced, “Of course. How silly of me.” She pries herself away from you and stiffly asks the class to stop what they’re doing to line up for lunch. She doesn’t look at you again, but an aura of hostility still hangs in the air around her. You get the impression you’re only safe for the time being.

A few minutes later, you’re alone in the classroom. You feel the weight of the confrontation starting to dissipate and you collapse back into your seat. Dropping your head into your hands, you berate yourself for your childish and unprofessional behavior. You’d never been so quick to anger as you were with Melissa Schemmenti. Replaying the events of the morning, you try to figure out why you both ended up at each other's throats so quickly. You start to think perhaps you’d been too sensitive about Melissa’s japes, but you stop yourself. You had been late, but it was an accident. She’d never met you before and it had felt totally uncalled for. Couldn’t she be bothered to give you the benefit of the doubt?

Her comments about the way you looked just added insult to injury. You realize in her mind she may have just been making a joke, but it had made you feel belittled, as if she didn’t respect your position as her equal. Just because you had less experience than her didn’t mean you should be treated like you were below her. You scowled to yourself, thinking about how she’d reacted when you fired back asking her how old she was. She could dish it, but apparently couldn’t take it.

This day had felt impossibly long, and it wasn’t even 1 PM yet.

Glancing around the room, you absorb the state it was in. Trying to wrangle nearly thirty kids into a semblance of an orderly line to get to lunch on time meant school supplies were scattered haphazardly across desks and the floor. You didn’t have your lunch today, and though you considered leaving to buy something down the street, you really shouldn’t spend the money.

After a moment’s thought, you stand from your desk and begin tidying up the room. You collect colored pencils, paper scraps, and glue sticks, reuniting them with their caps in the process. If you weren’t going to eat lunch, you might as well keep yourself busy to make time pass a bit faster. And maybe coming back to a cleaner room would improve Melissa’s mood a bit, so you could both leave at the end of the day without having drawn blood.

You toss the paper scraps into the recycling bin near the door and investigate the various drawers and cabinets to find the proper homes for everything you’d gathered. It’s not long before you discover the colored pencil bin in a cabinet, and frown when you notice the disorganization inside. A teacher as experienced as Melissa didn’t strike you as someone who couldn’t stay on top of her stuff - at least under normal circumstances. With two grades crammed into one room though, it made sense things would get away from her. Did her current aide even do anything?

You start removing things, finding items in the wrong bins as well as many unusable and ruined materials. Huffing to yourself, you manage to empty one container and designate it “The Graveyard”. Soon you’ve amassed a sizable pile of broken or unusable supplies. Deciding to organize the crayons and pencils by color group while you’re here, you’re suddenly interrupted by a quick knock on the doorframe and a voice speaking before you can even turn around.

“Hey Melissa, can I take a peek at your lesson for- oh?”

You find yourself in the presence of a very small black woman with wide eyes and short curly hair. Her outfit is colorful - ‘Oh lord, the pattern on her skirt. Was her skirt literally made from a quilt?’ The surprise on her face is quickly replaced by the friendliest smile you’d seen today, which was really no competition. Regardless, it fills you with warmth. You silently ask the universe to please let you make one new friend today.

It seems you’ve earned a break. “Sorry, I thought Melissa would be in here, since she’s not in the lounge! She must have lunch duty. I wanted to look at her lesson plans for Social Studies to make sure my class isn’t falling behind. Or getting too far ahead. Probably that second one, my class loves social studies. I’m Miss Teagues- er, Janine!” You don’t even care about her info dump. You’re so relieved to have a normal, friendly introduction that you’d let her talk about almost anything. Janine was the first adult today who hadn’t either lied to your face, or seemed ready and more-than-willing to break it.

You return the woman’s smile, greeting her and giving her your name. “I’m subbing for the aide while she’s out sick, so it looks like I’ll be around for the next few days,” you tell her. Speaking it out loud, you feel a bit demoralized. ‘If I even live that long.’

Janine beams at you. “Well, welcome to Abbott! It’s the best, I love it here. I bet you will too!” You expect her to leave, but an awkward silence follows in which Janine simply looks at you. After what feels like just a little too long, she pipes up.“I love reorganizing! And believe me, I totally get it when you’re in ‘the flow’,” she emphasizes with very cheesy air quotes, “but aren’t you going to eat lunch?”

“Oh, actually I’m okay-” you begin to reassure Janine, but the gurgling of your stomach rudely interrupts you and blows your cover.

You stand in another awkward silence for a moment, before Janine throws you a finger gun and cracks, “Sounds like someone’s hungry. Why don’t you stop for now and come join us in the teacher’s lounge? You can meet Jacob and Gregory!” You’re touched by the enthusiastic offer.

“That sounds really lovely Janine… but I woke up late this morning and left my lunch at home. At this point, I don’t really have time to run out. I’ll be okay, I promise,” you reassure the shorter woman. But you can tell by the look in her eyes she won’t accept your answer.

“At least let me bring you some of my lunch! You need to eat something today!” Before you can protest, Janine is out the door and down the hall. Her insistence on looking after you makes you slightly uncomfortable, seeing as you’d only just met three minutes ago, but you allow yourself to accept her kindness. It was the first overt act of compassion you’d received today, and you had a feeling that once Janine Teagues made up her mind about something, she did not give up easily.

When she returns, she’s holding a paper plate with the most incredible looking lasagna you’ve ever seen. It’s steaming, and as the scent reaches you, your mouth waters. She hands it to you with a grin and says, “Go ahead and dig in! This is the best lasagna ever.”

You take the plate and thank Janine profusely. You feel like you could cry from the kindness she’s shown you in light of how awful the day’s been. You pick up the plastic fork, and take a bite. Immediately your taste buds are flooded with flavor, the melted cheese and perfectly spiced tomato sauce actually bringing tears to your eyes. You didn’t realize until just now how hungry you really are, and you don’t even fully swallow your first bite before taking a second. Janine’s watching you intently, a smile plastered on her face as she witnesses the spiritual journey her lasagna is taking you on.

After you swallow your third bite, you look at Janine and declare, “This… this might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted. You’re an incredible cook Janine.”

Immediately Janine looks sheepish, her smile unwavering as her eyes dart away from you. “Oh, thank you! But I didn’t make it. I had a bit of a rough week last week. I was in the lounge this morning, doing my prep, you know? And all of a sudden, a tupperware full of lasagna’s sitting in front of me. She didn’t say anything, but I know it was Melissa’s way of taking care of me.”

You come to a screeching halt mid-chew. The name unpleasantly rings in your ears like tinnitus after a loud concert. Through a mouthful of food, you utter, “Melissa?”

Janine’s eyebrows come together in confusion. As if it’s the most obvious fact in the world, she replies, “Yeah, Melissa. She’s the incredible cook.”

Your appetite evaporates. The lasagna may as well have turned to ash in your mouth. You have to force it down, not wanting to spit it out into the trash in front of Janine. Despite the heavenly taste, this new knowledge makes it feel like your body’s trying to reject the food. You look down at the remaining lasagna on your plate and your stomach churns. After a final gulp, you turn away from Janine and grimace, abandoning the remainder of her lunch on your desk. You muster a weak, “Wow, that’s… wow!”

‘Is there anything this damn woman can’t do!?” you think, your mood reaching its depths of the day. You take a moment to compose yourself before turning back around to Janine and shooting her a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you Janine. I should finish up what I started before the class gets back!” Janine assures you she’s happy to have helped, and after dallying a moment longer, she departs the room.

Your hands fly to your face, running down it in exasperation. You just couldn’t escape Melissa Schemmenti. Still, a niggling thought sticks in the back of your mind. It appears the woman was capable of being civil, and even showing acts of kindness. Although indirectly, it was because of her that you'd been able to eat today. You're sure she'd be furious about that.

You resolve yourself to try and patch things up with her. Taking stock of the progress you've made in organizing and decluttering her room, you think you might have a good start to doing just that.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #this chapter's song is evil woman by canned heat #idk it's just kinda funky and i like the sound #Spotify

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