[TAM: Evening the Odds] Chapters 5 - 8 (TAM First Person Re-Write). (Patreon)

Chapter 5: Testing.

Of course this couldn’t be real. But… What if it was? It could be life changing. Everyone here hates me. Being given the opportunity to be at least tolerated would be a blessing from the heavens. What’s more, if that score of 32 was true and I could get it even higher…

I couldn’t just leave this alone. The ‘what ifs’ just wouldn’t leave my head. I needed to test it somehow. It was too good to be true, clearly, but I decided to let myself believe that it could be, at least for now.

I scrolled through the list of people I knew and saw who had the next highest scores. Paying more attention, I realized that all my teachers had positive scores, even if they didn’t go further than 15 points. The picture of one of them reminded me that I had classes with her next period.

[Owens, Mia - Affection Score: 14]

Mia Owens, my English teacher. A stunning beauty in her early 30s. Wavy auburn hair that reached past her shoulders and dark green eyes behind her black framed glasses. She had a nice hourglass body and tits that are the size of actual melons. She was strict, but that meant her classes were done in order. No one spoke out of turn and work went smoothly. Her classes were some of the most comfortable because no one did anything or said anything to me during them, so not only was I thankful to her, I really admired her skills and methods. Really makes me glad I picked the general English course, too.

…

Why not test this with her? Try some small talk, check the app to see if anything changes and then try again. If this app makes people like me five times as much, even small tests should yield quick, noticeable, results.

If it works.

Whatever. I’d try it on the assumption that it did work. So, with that mentality, I was so eager to start the testing that I actually got to the classroom 10 minutes earlier. Thankfully, it seemed the universe was finally with me for a change. Ms. Owens arrived early as well.

Assuming the info on the app was true, knowing that I had a positive score with her gave me a bit of confidence. I greeted her with a smile, opened the door to the classroom and let her walk in first. She smiled and greeted me back.

“You’re early today, Mr. Walker. What’s the occasion?” she asked curiously, studying me.

“I just didn’t really have anything else to do, so I figured I’d come here. I really like your classes, so I figured, why not?” I wasn’t lying, but there was still a lingering sensation of boot-licking. Maybe I should try to be more subtle.

“Saying that won’t earn you better grades, you know?” she said with narrowed eyes and a small smile.

Yep, I was trying too hard and Ms. Owens could tell. I decided to play along.

“I know, but I’m telling the truth. Just between you and me, my English teacher in High School… wasn’t very good, so I’m learning more here than I ever did from him.” I smiled sheepishly at her.

Her cautious expression softened and she chuckled lightly. “Well, I’m glad to hear you say that, then. Since you’re here already and you’re learning so much from me…” she jokingly mocked my flattery, but it was easy to tell she was in a good mood. “Do you have any questions regarding the current contents?”

“I do, actually,” I said, then began to ask her a few quick questions. She even started going more in depth in one of them, but the bell rang and students started coming in.

“We’ll cover more on that subject today, but if there’s something you’re not clear on even then, ask me after class, okay?” she offered.

I smiled. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Owens.”

I went back to my seat, quickly checking my phone and the Affection Multiplier App (from here on, I’ll just call it the AMA) before class started. I checked Ms. Owen’s score.

[Owens, Mia- Affection Score: 35 (+21)]

Holy shit! It really went up! Is a score of 35 a lot? Is an increase of 21 standard for such a simple conversation? She’s almost to the 50 point mark! Does this stuff really work then? I had to really keep myself from freaking out. Didn’t need to give everyone actual reasons to think I was a creep.

Class went smoothly, and after I asked her one last question while everyone left, her score went up to 37. Ms. Campbell’s stayed at 32, which I guessed made sense.

The hope that the Affection Multiplier was a real thing grew stronger in my chest. I needed it. I really, really needed it.

************

Chapter 6: A show of kindness.

As the day came to an end, I was feeling rather well. A few amicable conversations with the teachers did wonders on my mood, and let’s not forget the likelihood that I just got some sort of heavenly gift to turn things around. I even considered going to the library and finishing some assignments there instead of going back to my cold, shitty room.

However, as I was walking down the hallway, someone suddenly threw a ball of some kind of slimy substance at me, hitting me on the back of the head and sticking to my hair. The girl and her friends ran away laughing, disappearing down a turn. Rage and frustration quickly boiled inside me and there was the impulse to follow them. But then what would I do? Punch them? That was one way to ruin your life if the headmistress’ words were anything to go by.

I swallowed my anger despite the knot in my throat and let it go. And it was shaping up to be a decent day, too. For fuck’s sake…

I dragged my feet and walked towards the restroom to clean my hair, knowing that at least this kind of slime was washable. The thing is, since this was a girls-only school, there were no men’s restrooms. I had to use a small, almost closet-sized restroom that’s supposed to be for the staff but almost no one ever used it because it was in a remote corner of the building. As such, there were days when…

Yep. It was already locked for the day.

As I stood there, glaring at the padlock, shoulders slumped and dirty hair, mentally preparing to make the walk home like this, Ms. Campbell spotted me. The sight of me made her eyes widened. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands

“What happened!?” she asked, running towards me.

“…Nothing.” Yeah, that’s clever. With such a defeated tone, that would fool no one. “The restroom is locked, that’s all.” God, I felt exhausted and pathetic.

“That’s not nothing! Come here, let me help you.” Ms. Campbell grabbed my wrist and led me all the way to her office and the restroom inside. See why no one used the other one? All teachers have their own restrooms in their offices.

In front of the sink, I leaned down and put my head under the running water. I… began to wash my hair, but soon stopped, letting the cold water fall on me. 

It was only when I felt a different pair of hands in my head that I woke up from my slump, flinching and very nearly hitting my head on the faucet. I shivered and not from the cold, getting goosebumps and feeling my heart beating faster.

Ms. Campbell carefully ran her fingers through my hair, getting as much slime out as she could. “How did this happen?” she asked, concerned.

“…” A part of me didn’t want to answer, and it won. I just feel so pathetic with this whole thing, and admitting it would just make it even worse.

“Alright, then I’ll change the question. Who did this?” she asked more firmly, demanding, but still working on my hair.

“… I don’t know. They threw the thing and ran away.” I did have an idea of who it could’ve been, though.

I heard Ms. Campbell click her tongue and there was a hard pull on my hair along with it.

“Ugh!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!” she quickly apologized. “I just… I didn’t think things were this bad,” she said, regretfully.

Wait. So she was aware this was happening?

We both kept quiet until my hair was clean. I felt all awkward and I didn’t know what Ms. Campbell was thinking. She handed me a towel and I dried my hair.

“Thanks,” I said. It came out forced, not because I wasn’t thankful, but because the situation had me in a really sour mood.

“Should I have just let you be?” she asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

“N-No. I really am thankful. It’s just… I’m tired, Ms. Campbell. I’m tired of this crap happening every day. It’s not so bad in class because the teachers are there, but whenever I’m alone, every girl in this school seems to go out of their way to either say or do something to me.” I finally admitted it. Putting it into words made my chest hurt and my eyes itch. “It goes beyond things like bullying. I’m not wanted here, and I get it, but it’s not like I’m here by choice!”

The itch in my eyes went away when I saw tears in Ms. Campbell’s eyes instead. She covered her mouth and shut her eyes, tears falling down her cheeks as she muttered, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry…!”

“W-why are you apologizing?”

“Because this is my fault! I was the one who pushed the headmistress into accepting you here!”

What? “I don’t understand…” Ms. Campbell didn’t stop crying. It was awkward and I now felt guilty for making HER cry.

What the hell does one do in such a situation? I didn’t know how to comfort her. She shouldn’t be taking the blame for this, anyway. It was my stupid dad’s idea!

I… was kind of in a panic, so even though I wasn’t sure it was the best idea, I went and put my hands on Ms. Campbell’s shoulders. She got startled and flinched, but didn't move to push me away.

“Please, don’t cry. You’re not to blame for any of this. It was my father’s idea. If anything, I’m grateful to you for being one of the few people who’ve been nice to me.”

“…” She didn’t answer. Instead, her tears slowly stopped and she pulled me into a hug. An actual, real hug.

It was my turn to stiffen. Her doing this was the last thing I expected, but… the human contact, the reassurance… I hugged her back, and she took that as permission to hold me even closer.

“Thank you,” she said, “but I’m still responsible. I pushed for you to be here because I thought I could be the first step into the school becoming co-ed at last, but I just… left you be, thinking everything would sort itself out.”

She ran her hand along the width of my back, and it’s hard to describe how comforting it was. Ms. Campbell was just a bit taller than me, so my lowered head ended up resting on her shoulder. I thought I could smell her shampoo on her hair. It was all rather… soothing.

“Let me change that,” she continued. “Things have been terrible for you, so please let me help you as much as I can. I’ll be there to support you. It’s the least I can do, both as your teacher and as the one responsible for your situation.”

“You don’t have to. I’m okay with how things are,” is what I WANTED to say, but I wasn’t okay with how things were, and the close proximity was causing what I feared most. I was developing a crush or this beautiful, kind teacher.

For fuck’s sake.

“Okay.” I answered in a single word. I couldn’t help but hug her ever closer, and her big chest pressed against me. I swear it wasn’t my intention… but god it felt nice.

Ms. Campbell giggled and pulled away just enough so she could look at my face. She had a happy smile on her own, and her hazel eyes looked into mine. “Thank you. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

She finally let go of me and I took a step back. I was missing her warmth and smell immediately, but I didn’t want to be creepy. I’d embarrassed myself enough for one day.

“It’s late, so why don’t I give you a ride home? You live in one of the dorms, right?”

Uh…

************

Chapter 7: Righteous anger.

“N-Not exactly, no…” I muttered.

“What’s that?” she asked, not having heard me.

“There’s no need, Ms. Campbell. It’s just a 10 minute walk,” I assured her.

“Oh, then it’ll be a 2 minute drive. Come on, let’s go.” She grabbed my  shoulder and shook me playfully. An attempt to dispel the awkward atmosphere.

Oh boy. 

We got in her car, and when I told Ms. Campbell to stop in front of an old wooden shack in a dirty lot with practically no other houses around, she first took it as a joke. When realized I wasn’t joking, she furiously demanded to be let in.

“I can’t fucking believe her!” Her swearing shocked me a bit. Ms. Campbell stomped her foot on the hard, cold concrete floor. “How could she send ANY student to a place like THIS!?”

I stayed back at the door, watching as the beautiful but very angry woman inspected my humble abode.

“This place must be freezing at night! This cooktop is old and rusted! Is this where you do your homework!?” she asked, looking at the old school desk with my laptop on it, but didn't wait for an answer. “The bathroom is in barely usable conditions and the windows have bars on them! Is she keeping a prisoner!?”

“W-who’s she?” I asked cautiously.

“My mother!” she answered angrily, not at me, but at her… mother? “I’m sorry, the headmistress!”

My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped. “The headmistress is your mother!?” 

Ms. Campbell sighed heavily and started to calm down. “Yes, she is,” she admitted. “We don’t share a last name because she refuses to take my father’s name, but she’s my biological mother.”

Wow, so Mrs. ‘I will make your life a living hell’ is the mother of Ms. ‘I’ll be there to support you’. Would you look at that?

“I know there are no male dorms, but this is ridiculous!” Ms. Campbell kept looking around, frustrated. “You should’ve told me sooner!”

“I-I Uh… I didn’t…” I stammered, but she was not really expecting me to come up with a reason for not telling her.

“I’m so sorry about this. I promise I’ll do something about it as soon as possible. I’ll raise this issue in tomorrow’s teacher’s meeting. It might take a little while, but I promise you I’ll give you a better place to live. I’ll take you to live with me if I have to!”

WOAH! YES, PLEASE.

Okay, calm down, boy. Better stop that train of thought and not not get ahead of yourself. Still, seeing someone get this angry on my behalf… it cheers the spirit up.

“Still, I’m taking this to the headmistress right away,” she decided. “Is there anything you need? Do you have food?”

“I do,” I nodded. “I’ll just cook something later.”

“Please don’t cook using that. You’ll only get sick,” she said, pointing at the mess of a kitchenette. She took her phone and started tapping on it. “Do you like Chinese food?” Too stunned to answer properly, I wordlessly nodded again.

“Food will be here in 20 minutes,” she said, paying for it herself.

“Wait, you don’t need to do that! I can pay!” I argued, but Ms. Campbell was having none of it.

“No, I’m doing it. Eat well today, cover yourself with as many blankets as you can when you sleep and rest well. I have to go now, but I promise I’ll fix this.” She gave me a quick peck on the cheek before she left in a hurry.

I took a seat on the flimsy plastic chair, still  too dumbstruck to process everything. My heart thundered with every second recalling this afternoon with my… teacher. She was just my teacher, and yet…

Oh, right. The… Affection Multiplier thing. I took out my phone and opened the AMA to check Ms. Campbell’s score.

[Campbell, Emma - Affection Score: 49 (+17)]

Before I realized it, food arrived. I ate silently, enjoying every last bite. Way better than anything I had cooked so far.

Even working on three extra assignments until 01:00 am didn’t sour my mood, but knowing I was pathetically falling for my teacher for showing some kindness kind of did.

************

Chapter 8: Dedicated bullies.

The following day, I could walk to school without dragging my feet for once. Ms. Campbell was very upset about the whole situation, and seeing someone care that much was… heartwarming. But of course, nothing lasts forever and I had yet to last more than half a day in a good mood since coming to Hayes Academy. 

I was at my locker, getting my books out when I was ambushed by three stunningly sexy women, and I couldn’t be more worried.

“Good morning, monkey! How are you on this fine morning?” I tried to avoid looking at the person talking, but the issue was that her only redeeming quality was that she was nice to look at.

Olivia Hughes, the face and body of an angel with the heart and soul of Satan himself. She had long, straight, dark brown hair and matching eyes, pink lips with a stupidly sexy mole on their lower left side. And if her beautiful face wasn’t deceiving enough, there was her provocative, erotic body. Silky smooth and lightly tanned skin. Huge, supple looking boobs, a fit body with a narrow waist and generous hips and ass in perfect proportions. The first time I saw her, I fell head over heels for her. It was love at first sight. I had never in my life thought a woman could be so gorgeous. The second time, I wanted her as far away from me as possible and have her burned at the stake.

“What, no answer? And I thought I’d be nice to you today, but I guess you don’t like that?” The venom in her words was perfectly hidden behind such a sweet voice it could fool an ace detective. I knew full well she never meant to be nice to me, ever.

“Don’t waste your breath on this parasite, Olivia. God, just looking at him makes me sick. If they were going to accept a man into this school it should’ve been a movie star or something, not… whatever this is.” The flattering comments in such a stuck up tone come from none other than Lilian Reed, number one cause of my ever declining self-esteem. Before I came to this school, I would’ve thought myself at least decent looking.

Lilian was apparently one of Olivia’s best friends, but it wasn’t like I knew them enough to be sure. A prideful and spoiled brat, she thought everyone below her. How the other two girls got along with her, I didn’t know. She had long, straight, pale blonde hair and blue eyes. She was quite the looker herself, though her body was thinner and less curvy. Her boobs were also smaller than Olivia’s but that didn’t mean they were small at all.

“Can we just get what we came for and go? I need to find Lucy before classes start.” The one that decided that staring at her phone was better than acknowledging me was Jessica Ramirez, a Brazilian girl with long, straight, dark brown hair and whose body was able to give Olivia a run for her money. She had a fit hourglass figure, definitely D-cup tits, darker skin and probably the best ass out of the three. Her light brown eyes looked at me for a second, then completely dismissed me as she went back to her phone. Still, of these three, Jessica is the least dangerous, if only because she couldn’t care less about me.

I had checked their scores in the AMA before, and it went like this:

[Olivia: -47]

[Lilian: -52]

[Jessica: 0]

Yep. Jessica didn’t like or hate me. She didn’t give a single damn about my existence. I’d be thankful, but since she was friends with these other two, she was willing to help in making my life miserable if they asked.

“Yeah, let’s make it quick for now.” Olivia said, looking at me with an evil grin. “So, monkey, I assume you have our English assignment ready.”

I swallowed my complaints, letting out a sigh instead and reached into my pocket. “I do.” I took out Olivia’s flash drive and handed it to her.

“Good job!” she said, as if talking to a pet. “Come here, let me give you a reward,” she said in a sultry tone. She closed in on me, her face inches apart from mine. She licked her lips, and I wasn’t fooled for a second. I knew nothing good was coming, but she pushed me against the locker to keep me from stepping away. Then, as her body got closer to mine…

…Olivia kneed me hard in the groin, bringing me to the floor in immeasurable pain.

“The deadline is tomorrow you fucking imbecile! You’re late! Next time, give it to us a week before the deadline, or you’re getting worse than that!”

“Ahahaha! Look at him twitch! That must’ve hurt a lot!” Lilian laughed hysterically while Jessica looked at me on the floor, slightly amused by the sight.

They left, two of them laughing out loud and one chuckling at the state they left me in. At this point, my pride hurt more than my crotch. I grit my teeth and clenched my fist in frustration.

It wasn’t always this bad, but this stuff had been happening since day one. In my foolishness, I went to the headmistress and told her about it. All she said was ‘I see. You should solve these problems amongst yourselves. You’re practically adults already’. Days later, I also approached the biology teacher and told her, but I was met with an awkward dismissal, her saying that she’d talk to the headmistress. The arts teacher laughed and thought I was joking, claiming there was no bullying in this school and that I was overreacting.

I promise you I wanted nothing more than to retaliate in some way, but what would I get out of it? Even more problems. I was 18 already, those girls had rich parents who allowed them to do anything and the headmistress clearly wanted me out of here. I wouldn’t be surprised if any sort of retaliation got me faced with actual charges. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was her whole aim, either, or if those three and the headmistress were somehow colluded. 

With a low groan of anger, I rose from the floor and pushed through the pain.

Don’t go falling now, David. Not when there’s a single ray of hope that things might take a turn for the better.