Chapter 1
Regina’s heels clicked down the corridor as she made her way to her classroom. It was the first day of school and she was dreading it. First days were usually boring for both students and teachers alike, constantly going over the syllabus and discussing rules to the point where very few classes actually spent time doing any work.
As she unlocked her classroom, Regina couldn’t help but wonder how many students she would be taking this year. Regina typically tended to only teach sophomores and seniors due to the younger students being too irritating for her along with the fact that many of the younger students seemed to be deathly afraid of the woman. Regina wasn’t oblivious, she knew that she was stern, set strict expectations of her students, and very rarely put up with their crap. She also knew that this teaching style had earned her the nickname ‘The Evil Queen’. An honorific she was pleased to have. Fear insighted respect.
Her classroom sat at the very end of the English corridor. It was the perfect classroom. Long windows down one side of the room, book cases stocked full of required texts and recommended ones. She had posters from previous students stuck up on the walls. Her desk was large and made of dark oak. She had bought it at a second-hand auction a few years back to replace the cheap plastic desk the school had provided. Everything both in and on the desk had a place. It was organised meticulously.
Regina placed her bag on the floor beneath her desk and retrieved her laptop. Quickly plugging it in, Regina began to check her schedule and class lists. She had two sophomore classes and one senior class. Looking through the list of names she inwardly sighed.
Ruby Lucas.
Killian Jones.
August Booth.
Graham Humbert.
Regina rubbed a hand across her forehead in pre-emptive frustration, knowing the chaos that group were notorious for. One name however eased her annoyance.
Belle French.
Regina had taught the girl the year before and knew her to be a dedicated student. However, she also knew that Miss French had a tendency to hang around with… the wrong sort. Such as that of Miss Lucas and her gang. Another name caught Regina’s attention.
Emma Swan-Nolan.
It wasn’t uncommon for Regina to have students in her class that she had never heard of before. It was unfortunate that many students seemed able to fly under the radar, unknown for most – if not all – of their high school career. But Regina had a feeling this was not the case for Miss Nolan.
Curiosity peaked; Regina began to prepare for her first class of the day.
***
Emma hated school. She always had and was certain that she always would. Growing up in the system meant she had bounced from home to home and school to school. Her longest stint in one school was just over a year. The rest of the time she was lucky to last even six months. Sometimes she was removed from schools when she was removed from a home. Other times, especially as Emma got older, she would be expelled due to her “deep behavioural issues.” Whatever that meant.
“Emma sweetie, are you nearly ready? I have to leave in the next five minutes.” Mary-Margaret called up.
Emma forced herself to sit up in bed, grabbing her phone off the night stand. She had slept in. Again. Not that she cared too much. But she did feel slightly bad as she called down to her latest foster mother.
“It’s ok. I want to walk.”
Emma didn’t expect a reply from the overly-excitable woman. What she definitely didn’t expect was for Mary-Margaret to come storming up the stairs and into her room, a bundle of enjoy wrapped up in floral fashion. Emma jumped, pulling the covers close to her chest in shock and fright.
“What the hell?” She glared at Mary-Margaret who glared back, hands on hips with a stern look.
“I want you up and ready in the next five minutes Emma. I will not let you be late to school on your first day. Downstairs in five, no arguments.” Mary-Margaret lectured as she threw a hoodie from the girl’s wardrobe onto the bed. The woman then kicked Emma’s wrecked air forces closer to the bed before slamming the door behind her as she stormed away.
“This is so fucking stupid.” Emma muttered to herself as she slipped the hoodie on. She was quick to brush her hair into a simple high pony tail. She threw the rest of her outfit together, layering a dark red leather jacket on top of the plain black hoodie Mary-Margaret had thrown. Just as she was slipping her ratty trainers on, David, her foster dad, called up to her.
“Emma? You might want to hurry up, kid.”
Emma sighed, sick of the day before it had even begun. She grabbed the new school bag Mary-Margaret had bought her a few days ago and slunk down the stairs, a scowl etched firmly on her face.
“Good morning sleepy head.” David tried to joke. When he received no response from the young girl, he tried again. “She’ll ease up on you… eventually. Anyway, here’s some money for your lunch. I hope you have a good day. If you need anything, feel free to call me anytime, ok?” Emma just nodded, thanking him quietly as she pocketed the money.
“Where’s Mary-Margaret? Left without me?” Emma tried to hide the hope from her voice. David laughed heartily. Emma couldn’t help the small smile she gave him in return. She didn’t mind David so much. He seemed nice and clearly, he knew that his wife could be intense. Emma hoped that one day she might even come to like David. But she doubted she’d be around long enough for that to happen. Give it a week. She thought to herself.
“No. I’m afraid you aren’t that lucky. She’s already in the car, waiting. I wouldn’t make her wait much longer if I were you.” He raised his eyebrow, slightly scolding her, but Emma found she didn’t hate it.
“Yeah, ok. See you.” Emma took her time walking down to the car, trying to mentally prepare herself to spend ten hellish minutes in a silent car with Mary-Margaret first thing on a Monday morning.
Emma walked up to the passenger door of Mary-Margaret’s car, pulling the handle insistently. Nothing happened. The door wouldn’t open. Wonderful. She had a foster mother with a car that didn’t even work properly. The woman sat in the driver’s seat simply stared out of the window at her new foster daughter. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t reach over to open the door either. Emma glared. Nothing happened. She sighed and resigned herself to opening the back door, sliding into the middle seat and throwing her bag beside her.
“Tomorrow morning, if you don’t wake up late, then you can sit up front. But until then, you’ll sit in the back every time you are late. Do you understand?” Mary-Margaret spoke as she turned the keys and pulled away from their home. Her tone was harsh and clipped. Emma didn’t think the woman was much of a morning person. Nor did she think her foster mother quite understood how useless an attempt at discipline that was. Sitting up front with her foster mother was hardly worth waking up early for.
“Whatever.” Emma didn’t have the energy to argue with the woman over such a stupid punishment. It was as if Mary-Margaret was oblivious to the fact that Emma was seventeen, not seven. She could walk herself to school. And she sure as hell did not need to sit in the back seat and be spoken to like a child.
“Seatbelt Emma.”
“Whatever.”
***
Mary-Margaret, not trusting her new daughter just yet, pulled the car into the high school parking lot despite Emma’s many protests and pleads to be dropped off outside of the gates. Emma claimed it was so embarrassing being dropped off by the woman, but Mary-Margaret thought the embarrassment might finally make the girl listen to her. To realise that resistance was futile.
Just as Emma had grabbed her bag and made to open the car door, Mary-Margaret clicked the child lock, effectively trapping the girl in the back of her car. Emma groaned, throwing her head back against the seats in frustration, already sick of her foster mother’s bullshit.
“I thought you didn’t want me to be late?” Emma huffed, shoes scuffing against the seat in front of her. Not quite a kick, but not unnoticeable. Mary-Margaret chose to ignore this, focusing instead on turning to face the stubborn seventeen year old in the hopes of getting her message across.
“Look Emma.” She began, voice soft and light, eyes locking onto Emma’s. “Today is your first day, right? Don’t you want to try and start it in a positive way?”
Emma didn’t respond. She tore her eyes away from the small brunette’s and stared out the window, watching as more and more students began to arrive.
“I’ll let you go, but Emma, I really want you to try today, ok? This is a fresh start. It can be good for you if you let it.”
If Mary-Margaret found Emma’s silence to be disturbing, she didn’t let it show. Ruffling her hair slightly, Mary-Margaret finally turned to unlock the door. Before she could say another word, Emma grabbed her bag and through herself from the car.