Earning the grade

[zydrate]

http://img3cdn.adoosimg.com/52f9a613ba73d68def84fe2e8e0007f9-1-7.jpg
Name: Marisa Owens
Age: 18
Occupation: Student

This was her last year at this Godforsaken high, Lincoln High School. Where everything was crappy. The sports team, the cheerleaders and of course, the instructors.

Mr. Jacobs, the english teacher, everyone hated him. He was grumpy, stern and extremely strict. But he was also very handsome. As far as the gossip went, Mr. Jacobs wasn't married. He smelled good and to say the least, he was passionate about his job.

No one passed Mr. Jacob's class with anything higher than a B-. But that was something Marisa wanted to change. If she could earn an A+ in each of her classes this year, she would earn a full paid scholarship to the state's top college.

And what Marisa wanted, Marisa worked her ass off to get.

 

[Bevatoria]

Carl Jacobs shuffled his papers, watching his new class file in. He looked on them all with something resembling a smile, although by the end of the year they would all know he didn't smile. Not really. It was a contemptuous smirk. An arrogant look, the one of a man who was never satisfied.

The look that told them that no matter what they did, how hard they worked, no matter how much they tried to butter him up...the best they could get was a B minus. It was something of a legend at the school, and yet the board had somehow never taken action against him; he was hard minded and determined to prove the merit of his ways. Nothing could be free, and nothing could simply be given away just because the educational system demanded some sort of 'fairness'. Fairness was not just, and it was not right to him.

Carl stood up exactly when the class was supposed to be. "Welcome to Senior English. I'll be your teacher, Mister Jacobs." No student ever used his first name, much less ever found out about it. As a teacher, he was in a position of authority, and he used it well.

His eyes drifted over his eager young students, seeing one particular dark haired girl staring back at him eagerly. He didn't give her a second glance; it looked like she thought a smile and a wink would get her a better grade.

"Here are the syllabus for this year's class. If you could all pass them around..."

 

[zydrate]

Taking a packet from the top and passing the rest back, Marisa quickly skimmed the first few pages and came across different statements that caught her eyes:

....focus will be basically on British Literature from the Medieval times to the present...

expected to complete a senior project. This project will consist of three items. It must be completed with a passing grade of no less than 60% to pass the class. More on this at a later date.

With a huff of breath, she knew that this class was tough but it seemed the syllabus was longer than the table of contents of the text book given to her earlier that week...

She shook her head and listen to Mr. Jacobs drone on about the rest of the year and what would be required... it was no wonder no one passed this class with a high grade, the standards were extremely high...

Well, no one before her at least... Marisa forced herself to remain alert and of course, awake as she paid attention...or at least tried to pay attention...

Right now, she was regretting not having that second red bull this morning...

 

[Bevatoria]

As Carl started his introductory lecture, he looked at the students, trying to guess who would get a C, who would get all the way up to a B minus, and who was going to fail. Obviously you could never tell just from the first few minutes with that much precision. But the people who were likely going to fail, having to repeat this course either in summer school or with another year of high school, were fairly easy to spot.

The same girl who had given him a pointed look earlier was seeming like a candidate right now, her eyes unfocused, almost sleepy. She was looking aimlessly, not really at him or the board, seemingly not paying attention. As he droned on, he grabbed a wooden metrestick near the board.

The old ruler had no practical use in this classroom; it was an English course and he preferred to motion with his hands when possible. However, Carl had found one rather unique use for it as he slowly made his way towards the inattentive girl's desk. He paused in his lecture deliberately, letting the class think he was about to make an important point before he slapped the ruler against the girl's desk; intending to wake her up.

"Pay attention." he snapped. "I won't have dozers or coasters in my classroom." As he walked back to his desk, he vowed to make a note of that one; maybe he could make an example out of her if her performance matched her attention paying...

 

[zydrate]

With a yelp of surprise and fright, Marisa quickly sat up and directed her attention to him.

Of course, this caused a few in the classroom to giggle at her and say something under their breaths. Marisa felt the heat flush her face from embarrassment, of course she could have said she was sorry but really, she wasn't. It wasn't like she was doing it on purpose.

Marisa gave Mr. Jacobs her complete and undivided attention for the rest of the time they were there. Thankfully, this was her last class before lunch.

After the bell sounded, she gathered her books, taking her time and waited for the rest of the class to leave as she had planned to talk to Mr. Jacobs about his plan for the year. And maybe, just maybe, apologize for losing focus...

"Mr. Jacobs?" Marisa said, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "I was wondering if I could talk to you about this syllabus and see what sort of boost I could get for this class. Like book recommendations or other sorts of study materials. I really want to be the first to pass this class with something more than a B-."

 

[Bevatoria]

The class ended; on time, as always. Carl sat back behind his desk, not looking up as he took some notes about the students performance during the class. He was meticulous and precise; his thoughts about a student could change during the year. If they did, it would be due to consistent and reliable study; not due to one good test or class, or them sucking up to him.

The class had emptied, except for one student who seemed to be lingering. Hesitation was normal, and acceptable; deliberation on the right course of action was never a bad thing. It was the one who had been snoozing at her desk earlier; he didn't look up until she spoke to him, trying to get his attention.

"Mr. Jacobs?" she started, and he looked up to see her sling her bag over her shoulder - a gesture that caused her hair to flutter slightly. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about this syllabus and see what sort of boost I could get for this class. Like book recommendations or other sorts of study materials. I really want to be the first to pass this class with something more than a B-."

Carl didn't smile. Or even blink, as he looked at her. It took only a couple of seconds for him to consider his response.

"No." He looked back to his notetaking, only gazing back at her again when it was apparent she hadn't left.

"Any books I have recommended are already in the syllabus. I don't give anything to my students in this class; marks must be earned, not handed out like party favors." Another quick look at the admittedly attractive student in front of him. "If you want to be the first student to deserve a mark above a B- in my class, you have to deserve it."

Back to his notetaking.

 

[zydrate]

It took a lot... a WHOLE lot for Marisa not to blow up at the guy. What the fuck? She thought. She was trying to earn it, wasn't she?!

She took a few measured breaths and forced a calm voice, "You know, I wouldn't be up here talking to you if I didn't want to earn it. I mean, there can't just be what's in the list. Other teachers allow extra credit, why not you?"

"Come on Mr. Jacobs, there must be something I could do...something I could write, something I could read...anything!" Did she sound like she was begging?

 

[Bevatoria]

She was persistent"You know, I wouldn't be up here talking to you if I didn't want to earn it. I mean, there can't just be what's in the list. Other teachers allow extra credit, why not you?"

"Other teachers are soft." He responded curtly. "'Extra' credit implies unneeded. Wasteful. Unnecessary." A sneer lighted his face as he looked at her. "They do it because they feel bad for their students. Because they want to be nice to them. But the real world is not nice, and it is not forgiving." Finally, the sneer gone, although a look of contempt remained. "You'll notice that anyone who did get a B- in my class has gone on to great things - better then many who got 'given' A+'s in other classes. Miss Owens, you may not like your mark, but you will like the result. I promise you that."

"Come on Mr. Jacobs, there must be something I could do...something I could write, something I could read...anything!" This was pathetic; she was practically begging now, and Carl had to hide his disdain. She didn't like taking a no for an answer. He tried to hide the smirk that threatened to split on his face; perhaps he could get some use of her after all.

"Not after one request." Carl glowered at her. "Too many pretty girls think they can get what they want with a little effort, a smile, and by batting their eyelashes at any man who denies them." His voice laced with contempt even as he made his first mistake. "Keep asking me for the rest of the week and I might give you something." Again, a look back to his notes, an attempt to dismiss her from his sight.

 

[zydrate]

That was it. The discussion was over but at least, there was some hope at the end of the tunnel. He might be allowing it... all she had to do was keep asking...

And Marisa could be persistent.

With nothing more to be said, she turned, thanked him under her breath and walked out.

Later that night, Marisa went over and over what Mr. Jacobs had told her. And it was true, what he said. The world wasn't nice. She had at least some experience in that. Her mother had left her and her father back when she was only 9. Since then, her father had worked 2 jobs and kept food on the table and his daughter clothed in the latest fashion.

Yet, not one time did he ever tell her that he loved her. As long as she kept out of his way, she was fine.

....Too many pretty girls....

Wait...did he call her pretty?

***************
The next day, the same thing, the same schedule, the same classes. In English, Marisa made sure she paid attention and when class was over, she waited again until everyone left before approaching Mr. Jacobs desk. This time she didn't beat around the bush, "Anything today?" She asked, knowing that he knew what she was talking about.

 

[Bevatoria]

For some odd reason, Carl found himself looking forward to the end of this class. Just a small, small part of him. It was somewhat unusual, given that the only thing he looked forward to normally was the end of the entire day, no longer having to deal with meddlesome staff, lazy students, or anyone that he felt beneath him. Which seemed to be everyone, nowadays.

Again, the room emptied. Again, the same student as before, with the same look on her face.

"Anything today?"

He looked at her, with a smirk. "I told you, Marisa. I don't give away anything for free." He paused. "Or for asking enough times." He looked back down at his papers for a moment. "I guess you at least managed to stay awake today. That's progress. Might even get you all the way up to a C+."

The jibe seemed to irritate her, and he sighed. "I'm not going to give you a map, or a study guide, or a paint by numbers book on how to succeed in my course. I don't know how else to say this - if you want a B-, you'll have to *earn* it." He let the silence linger for a moment, and at her response to him he sighed again. This time, a much bigger one.

"Very well." He looked her over, as if considering something. "If you really think I should or can help you with your grade - come to my room after classes on Friday. There, with just the two of us, you can try to talk to me, alone, and explain why I should consider giving you more then the highest mark I've ever given - a B-." He went back to his papers. "Either that, or you can keep trying to get me to 'help' you."

 

[zydrate]

It was finally Friday and all the classes were over for the day...well, for the week. Right now, almost all of the studends were getting ready for the first home game of the season for football. Sports around this area was a pretty big deal. Usually, most teachers would just pass the jocks whether they deserved it or not...

Marisa, who's choice of clothing left little to the imagination, showed up promptly at 3:50 to see Mr. Jacobs. She didn't bother knocking as she walked into the empty classroom and took a seat.

She had a few days to consider what to say to Mr. Jacobs in order to get him to help her get a better grade. She had taken a lot of the 'whining' out of the speech she had prepared...or in this case, her argument. When Mr. Jacobs finally showed up, about 15 minutes later, Marisa never noticed that he closed the door to the class, instead, she started up on her reasoning of needing his help.

"I know you're probably going to start with some banter about why I don't deserve the help or the extra credit. But truthfully, I need a grade better than a B- in order to get a full scholorship to college. I can't really see myself spending the rest of my life in this town, waiting tables..."

((ooc: short I know but I'm just trying to get back into the rhythm of it all....PM if you want to discuss something))

 

[Bevatoria]

With his day officially over, and his weekend set to begin, Carl sat calmly at his desk. To anyone watching, he had every reason to want to leave right now, but was making no move to do so. Marisa was coming to meet him, and he wanted to see what she was made of. Being a high school teacher, he was used to girls dressing provocatively for their boyfriends (or *not*), but even with all of his experience Marisa's outfit had gotten his quiet attention.

She walked in without knocking, and Carl rose silently to close the door; he didn't want anyone listening in. Not because he was afraid of someone overhearing her...

"I know you're probably going to start with some banter about why I don't deserve the help or the extra credit. But truthfully, I need a grade better than a B- in order to get a full scholorship to college. I can't really see myself spending the rest of my life in this town, waiting tables..."

"Why not?" His reply was cutting, and quick. "Do you consider such work beneath you? Not worthy of your time?" Carl looked her up and down, not hiding his scrutinizing of her body in her skimpy outfit; he was a teacher, after all, and would never think of a student that way.

"I have a problem with that attitude." He responded. "Do you really think so little of the people who live in this town? Who choose to live a quieter life?" Carl paused, pacing a bit around her, ostensibly to think more but only to gaze at her body from different angles. "Or is it that you have a problem with working hard? Do you believe that life is simply about pushing to a certain point and then getting everything handed to you?" Again, he paused. "I don't work that way. Anything you do for me will only give you the oppurtunity for a higher grade; you must still consistently give me the highest quality and effort no matter what I ask of you." His gaze bore into Marisa as he measured her. "If you think you can do that..."

At her answer, he motioned to a bookshelf at the back of the room. "Reorder those books alphabetically; students have misfiled them carelessly today." His expression made it clear he was only testing her, to both see how she would approach a problem, and how precisely she would obey him; in orders both great...and small.