{ Chapter Nineteen: Math Always Was a Tricky Equation }

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IF THERE IS ANYTHING JANICE HAS LEARNED OVER the seventeen years that she has lived under her sheltered life, that once things were starting to look better than she expected, a steady range of good events and okay events, things were bound to go downhill really bad, really soon. It's just the written make up of your happiness. You can't have a roller coaster if it only goes up. You have to go down.

Or fly off your railings because you can't remember how to subtract math from your life. 

"Janice, what's the answer to question three?" Mrs. Canafford asked her in her nasal voice, as if she suffered from a permanent cold (serves her right, that tonta).

Janice had a pretty rocky night the other day after coming from work a little later than usual. Karlo's had car broken down, and since Brielle and James had left before, she was stuck at the subway almost two hours later. She did messily finish her homework really late — she knew that senior year was going to kill her, and her sleeping schedule — but that still didn't help that she was groggy and cranky and really, really not in the mood for her teachers to pick on her right now.

One of them was asking for new hair cut from yours truly.

Janice pulls out her workbook, but her drowsiness makes her clumsy and she accidentally drops some of her books in front of her. She clenches her jaw, ignoring the snickers around her, pushing away the red hair drooping in front of her eyes as she picks up the fallen notebooks.

"Janice?" her teacher prompted, impatience clear through her tone.

"Please, ma'am, one second," Janice said, her tone a milder version of Mrs. Canafford's. She flips through some pages and thinks she's found it. "Uh, the precipitation is 95%—"

She feels heat start to flood her cheeks once she hears the teetering around her become louder, feeling like a grave mistake. "Um, as I was saying, uh."

"You are aware that you are on the wrong question, yes?" Mrs. Canafford informed her, and Janice pulled forth all the dignity in her to not sink further into her chair from embarrassment. "Mrs. Diablo, are you even taking me seriously?"

"Didn't her Mexican father teach the girl her place? They should've stuck to whatever the hell they immigrated from," a girl in the back, too faint for the teacher to hear but is crystal to Janice, who recognizes the voice to be of Madeline. She's heard Madeline's racist slurs before, but this time she doesn't react with three flicks of her wrists. (Though it would probably be twelve if the beat down came to it).

You can't risk getting another attention, a disgruntled voice inside her head said. You can't even risk talking back or losing your patience. This isn't a game of cat and mouse. You have something bigger to stay here for.

When the hell did I get so rational? grumbles Janice in her head, though she acquiesces and resorts to just gripping the underside of her chair instead. She turns her attention instead to her teacher, who was still looking unamused with the time Janice was taking in responding. "I apologize, Madame. I was so tired I hadn't realized that I was reciting the wrong question."

"Do us all a favour and don't party out late or succumb to your unladylike needs," Madame told her, the giggles resonating through the walls made Janice close her eyes to keep her control. "I don't know what influence you have with your brothers and all—"

"Don't." There was a line, and this woman had passed it.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I will endure your insults on my pettiness, my irresponsibility and my own clumsiness. But I do not wish for you to bring my personal family into this matter when they. Are. Not. Necessary." Janice had finished with gritted teeth, hardly keeping together.

She might be a master at keeping her emotions at check, but if there was anything weakness with her, it was her anger, and rage was really wanting to do some physical damage. Thankfully, her teacher understood this and nodded her head almost imperceptibly, the hardened lines softened a fraction. "I understand then. Now will you tell us the right phrase?"

"Wouldn't want to insult a pigsty, anyways," sneers Madeline, but she realized a second too late that it wasn't going to be shrugged off like the first time.

Janice slams the desk in front of her, making almost the entire class jump out of shock. But before she can yell or kick (or strangle), a sharp voice carries across the room and effectively ceases everything happening at once.

"Enough."

Everyone let out a simultaneous gulp, eyes shifting from their places on Madeline and Janice and instead landing on a very furious (though incredibly regal and stern) head administrator, who looked almost on the verge of a shouting match. They'd all seen the darker side of her, and no one dared breathe. 

Janice opens her mouth. To do what, she doesn't know — she didn't want to apologize but the darkening glint in Parkers eyes would've made her grovel for forgiveness — but is cut off with another firm look from Parker, one that told her to "shut the hell up" and also clarified that her anger was not concentrated on Janice in particular. This helped stop the constricting in Janice's chest as she gradually plants herself back in her seat, suddenly eager to see where this was going to go.

C'mon, you weren't looking for a showdown either?

"Madeline Trent, I presume?" Parker's voice was cut out of platinum; it was hard and cold and deadly and downright awesome.

Madeline gave her a meek nod, comprehension that her big mouth was finally getting clamped shut.

"Well, I hope Mr. and Mrs. Trent will love to hear about the fact that you'll be in my office for an hour every day until the end of next next month."

"B-but—"

"Oh, and you're on the debate team, yes?" Parker nodded. "And it meets after school, silly me."

"Thank yo—"

"I guess you'll just have to join next term."

It seemed like pregnant silences has become a thing in Janice's presence, but this time, she's all too eager to see how long it'll end up lasting. Parker seemed set in stone with her choices and Madeline kind of resembled a pouty two year old who wouldn't get her way. The best part was that Janice didn't even need to do anything that would land her in the principal's office — karma really did seem to have her back sometimes. Especially in the form of dangerous badass leaders.

Once the stare off was broken, Parker looked over to Janice. "I wish for you to come find me at lunch, if that's alright." Janice nodded, which Parker reciprocated, before the woman straightened up her blazer and looked ahead at the entire class.

"Listen here, everyone, and listen well," Parker announced, her tone leaving no room for discussion. "I don't care who you are, what grades you earn, what you look like or who your family is. I will never, not any exceptions to this rule, condone discrimination or racial slurs, and if you know anything about going to this academy, you will exempt from any kind, type or part of bullying. Not only will there be serious repercussions, but you really don't want to see me on a bad day. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," everyone replied in unison.

A sound of uneasy shuffling followed, but the quiet remained as Parker stood at attention. Finally, the administrator lessened the severe look on her face but enough only to make you not want to jump a cliff. "I will then take my leave. I see that my daily check-in's will be more frequent to monitor student and staff activity." Mrs. Canafford had been discreet with all the drama, but she winced at the display of incapability she realized she must have portrayed to her boss.

She gave pointed looks towards Janice and Madeline, and they interpreted it clearly. "Don't forget our meetings. Also, Madeline, if you utter another lick of something even remotely offensive, I will pretend I didn't see Janice coming at you with a broken nose, yes? Understand, Madeline?"

Janice smirked as she saw Madeline's eyes widen. "I-I understand, miss."

"Very well. Get back to your percentages and such."

Madame Parker headed for the door, and the class had begun to settle down, though there was still chatter soundly coming from around her, even in the form of whispers. Mrs. Canafford didn't seem like she really wanted to teach anymore at this point, and Janice couldn't blame her (though she would do anything to not do math, if it helps).

Madame Parker had almost walked out before she slowly turned around. "Oh, and Mrs. Canafford?"

The muted conversation of the class fainted away as they watched their math teacher almost break out into a sweat as she stood up. "Y-yes, Mrs. Parker?"

"You left today's lesson in the staff lounge today."

Mrs. Canafford blushed in embarrassment. "I-I hadn't even realized, silly me. I'll be sure to check it when I have break before the next class."

"Well, I just wanted to say." Did Parker give Janice a wink? "The answer to question 3 is 95%. Kind of like Janice's math average, isn't it?"

At all the gaping mouths around her, Janice wonders why she ever hated Parker in the first place.

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NINE DAYS AND SEVERAL HOURS INTO THE WEEK, more than a week after her last check in with Parker at lunch, today marked as one of the day's that Janice was required to check up on Parker's office for a debrief, and Janice couldn't keep her butterflies contained in the little box she usually keeps them locked up. It seemed that lately, they'd been set free on more than one occasion and she didn't know how to lock them back up (where was the blasted key, anyways?) She isn't sure if she wanted to, really. 

Unfortunately, Janice also hates waiting as much as she enjoys anticipation, sitting in the beaten chair outside of the office. Parker already had someone with her, and bugs Janice more than she'll like to admit. 

What was happening behind those closed doors that she was behind? Did it even concern her? Again, she concludes she hates waiting. 

She also hates her uniform. Stupid collar. Her fingers keeps tugging at it, the angst and itchiness it offered did not help her case. She also hates the stupid clock on the wall in front of her. Was time really moving this quick; this slow? Where was Parker? Why was she even here? 

Why did Janice let her nervousness consume her again?

Finally, the dreaded wooden hinges creaked as the office door is forced open. Janice stands still, watching a middle-aged, beautiful woman emerge, along with an equally gorgeous girl to her side who Janice is sure she's never noticed before. She seemed just a couple years younger than Janice's own, though from the downward curve on the younger girl's face, Janice has an inkling that coming to this academy isn't really something the kid wanted to push into her agenda.

"Hello, are you waiting for the headmistress?" the woman asked Janice, and Janice let a soft smile appear at the gentle tone the woman spoke to her with, which was a sharp contrast to many of the parents that took one glance at Janice's ragged red hair and stuffy small uniform with distaste and contempt. "She's most likely waiting for you, we're sorry to keep you waiting."

"It is no trouble at all," Janice assured, already side stepping the duo. The girl, though, practically pretended to be invisible. "Thank you for the heads up, though."

The woman laughed, and there was something familiar about the cerulean color of her eyes and the pleasant chisel of her jaw that reminded her of someone who she couldn't place. "Well, we'll be sitting outside if Madame Parker were to need anything. Please do tell her that, if you can."

"No problem," Janice once again soothed, mentally raising an eyebrow at how unnaturally helpful she was being. And everyone calls me a selfish brat, she thought to herself gleefully, before she meets Parker's eyes and closes the door behind her. "Parker! My knight in shining blazers! How are you doing today?"

Parker, who is currently putting away some paperwork, raises an eyebrow at Janice's sudden playfulness and lack of witty cynicism. "What happened to Janice Diablo and what did you do to her?"

"Nothing. Just in a good mood, I guess," Janice said cheekily, plopping herself down in the seat she'd become accustomed to.

Parker and Janice had developed a kinship of some sort, though strictly professional (okay, they talked about which eye Madeline deserved a hit more, but really, healthy discussion), so it was often that Janice came in with a smile.

Parker decides that the smile isn't too mischievous looking — when that happens, something has happened to her chair involving a whoopee cushion and mustard on her seat — and relaxes, stapling some of the reports she'd been handling before Janice walked in. "So how is the research going?"

"Amazing! I forgot to mention it the last time I came here, but I went to this women's day event with a friend of mine —"

"Friend?" Parker didn't mean to insinuate any surprise, but it couldn't be helped. "I, er, mean, anyone I may know?"

Janice waves her off. "Nah, somebody who I know through work. But, anyways, we both went to this festival for Women's Day the day before and I have to tell you, he and I—"

"He?" interrupted Parker once again, not even trying blend in the conspicuous astonishment at where this conversation was headed. "You brought a, ahem, he to help you on the subject of females?"

"He's more female than I am, I promise." The serious glitter in Janice's brown orbs seemed to amuse Parker further. "Look, ignore that for a minute. Anyways, so he decided to document the entire thing because he's got these, like, mad organization skills! He wrote down the manuscripts of what happened — don't worry, we got permission and everything — and we got to interview a couple of the orator's. I'll email all the details when he sends them over. However, I'm still brainstorming on what to actually do about the question itself."

"The definition?" Mrs. Parker identified, and Janice concurred. "Don't stress so much about that yet. When you've got all your material and your outline ready, ideas will just start coming to you. Stressing over it isn't going to help. One of the reasons I picked you was because of your impulse and the way you stick to your gut feeling."

"Are you telling me you didn't pick me because I'm a beautiful, down to Earth and absolutely modest in all my creative fashions?"

"Why, of course, I especially picked you for your modesty," Parker said drily, her sarcasm smothering the words.

Janice pretended to flip hair over her shoulder. "I know, I sure can be humble."

"Okay, back to why I wanted you to come, other than how your project is going. And your modesty, of course," Parker rolled her eyes, "is that I kind of need you to do me another favor?"

"If you're going to make me do more work, hel-- I mean, heck to the no! I've got enough on my plate as it is!"

"Actually, it's more to do with community."

"I can tell that's just another way to say 'work'."

"Well, yes and no. Did you see the two people that had walked in here before you?" Janice nods her head yes, not sure what that had anything to do with the matter at hand. "Well, you see, you know how in high school once a set of seniors come to their final year, they graduate..."

"I'm a senior. I've been to high school for four years now, I kind of know how this works." 

Parker nodded eagerly. "So you remember that angst of being a new student and in a unfamiliar setting, having to force your freshman jitters aside and everything?"

Janice shrugs. "I don't know. I just remember hanging out in the library a lot to use the wifi on the computer. You should update your server because even Google Chrome's slower than Internet Explorer on those piles of junk, by the way."

Parker huffs, before trying to approach the subject in a different light. "Yeah, sure. Anyways, basically you know what it's like not knowing how to fit in."

"Are you trying to imply something, Madame?" Janice scrunches her eyebrows, emulating an offended stance.

Parker falls for it. "N-no, I'm just, uh, this was so much easier in my head." Or with normal people, Parker internally sighs. "Just listen."

"Ears at ready," Janice perks, leaning back in her chair to enjoy the flustered headmistress in front of her.

"So, well, there's this girl outside that I don't know if you noticed, but she's going to be a freshman. Now, I thought that, since she was going to need a little help transitioning and everything, that you could be her, uh, leader. Individual welcoming committee."

"You're making me someone's guide?" Janice all but screeches, really not looking forward to the idea of babysitting. "Parker, it is one thing for me to work my butt off for a project I don't even get graded on, but now I have to take care of someone without getting paid by the hour? Nuh-uh."

"Janice, please?"

"I refuse to take action!"

"I'll give you an extra 10% on all your classes for your contribution to this school."

"Where's the forms? Where do I sign up? Where's the girl? What's her name? What do I do? Can I please get paid?"

And that is how Janice Diablo just got stuck into the world of being someone's guide (let's all hope the school doesn't burn down).

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A/N: I don't know how to finish these or start these author notes anymore, because I'm always smiling too hard!

EMMA WATSON for Janice? [Any better suggestions, shoot!] 

I have to much to say! Thank you so much for the comments and votes on the last chapter, [80k? WHAT?!] which prompted me into taking action and editing this chapter as quickly as I could [sue me for mistakes, I'm human] and I'm sorry there isn't a bucket load of James going to happen yet, but bear with me. I want this story to be about those two, but it's also going to be about everything in between. This is a COMEDY book with ROMANCE LINING [or painting, because, yes, #Jamice <-- shoutout to the comment that made the ship!] and I hope it's humorous and still as enjoyable!

Secondly, many of you have left great messages and been so considerate about the updating schedule. I have to dedicate this chapter to Calista, because you see that beautiful banner above? Her skills. But I have a dozen other people I can't stop thanking because they're so beautiful on the inside <3 

Thank you everyone who's taking the time to read this! I slave over this story like a God with ambrosia and I promise you, I'll never get enough. I hope that's the same for all of you! Wish you best for Christmas, New Years and exams etc! c: 

Regards, Sarena x