|Andromache | Ανδρομάχη (mydespair) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2016-10-03 08:33:00
|Entry tags:||andromache, hector|
Who: Andromache, Hector
When: Monday, after school
Where: Outside Andie's school
Today had been like any other day. Andromache awoke, showered, and went to work. Even with the mass population of immortals hanging around, life had become rather predictable. Of course, mortal children made her life increasingly stressful on a daily basis but what did she expect from being a high school teacher? She had raised four boys of her own in her prime, she knew what teenage boys were thinking. And she had been a teenage girl once herself, so she knew what girls their age thought about. It wasn't always the best idea cramming a bunch of hormonal teenagers in a room together all day long. Even with her own maternal instincts she couldn't always keep the peace in her classroom. Today had been one of those days. Monday's were never easy, especially for teachers who had recuperated over the weekend only to rinse and repeat the next week.
Like any other Monday, students had shuffled in and out all day with varying degrees of attentiveness and snark. By the time the last bell rang Andromache was at her wits end. She waved the last students out her door and then sank into the nearest seat with a loud groan. She was waiting for a student who had planned to come by for a recipe Andromache had promised. A few minutes passed by before the girl appeared in the doorway. Andromache stood up and went to the cabinet where she kept all of the recipe's and books. She found the copy she had made and handed it over, "You can keep that if you like. I have the original."
The girl smiled and nodded, "Thanks, Miss Tros. My mom says thanks in advance."
Andromache smiled, "Tell her you're welcome for me. And enjoy." She waved the girl off before cleaning up whatever messes hadn't been picked up. For the most part, her students were good about cleaning up after themselves, but they always missed something. Monday's and Friday's were the worst days.
It took about fifteen minutes for her to finish putting dishes and ingredients away, then she grabbed her things and locked the door behind her. There were only a few students left when she made her way out the front of the school. She stopped briefly to dust off some flour from her shirt. "Go home, guys," she said to some students a few feet away. There was no point sticking around when they likely had homework or other after school events. She waited until the students left before heading down the steps.