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Pretty Reckless

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TO: ALL TEACHERS (EXPRESSIVE ARTS, MODERN FOREIGN LANGUAGES, STEM, HUMANITIES, PHYSICAL EDUCATION AND TECHNOLOGY DEPARTMENTS)

FROM: BRIAN SCHECHTER, Bschechter@Barringtonhighschool.org

SUBJECT: New Staff – and a New Year!!

Dear all,

It’s with warm wishes (obviously…) that I send you this email – reminding you that term starts on 3rd September for students and staff alike. Hoping that everyone has had a wonderful summer holiday and is excited about coming back.

Please arrive pronto, department subject meetings will be held before students arrive – school will be opened from seven am onwards. Students will arrive at 8:30 am – and the new years and any other new students will be featured to a short assembly in the main hall and then up to tutor groups where timetables and additional information will be given out. People will stay in tutors for the first three lessons. 4th lesson will finish five minutes early so new students can find their way to lunch. After lunch (which is still half an hour – staff supervision timetables in attached document) there will be twenty minutes of tutor followed by 5th and final lesson. School day ends at 3, teachers are to remain in school till 3:30 at the absolute earliest (unless cases of emergency, in which the administration office should be contacted).

That’s all for now, I look forwards to seeing you all greatly and meeting any new staff members we have joining our team!

Thank you,

Brian Schechter

Deputy Head – MA : Maths & Geometry

--

TO: BRIAN SCHECHTER, Bschechter@Barringtonhighschool.org

FROM: RYAN ROSS, Rross@Barringtonhighschool.org

SUBJECT: ‘Featuring’ is entirely the wrong word to use

             ...

Ryan Ross,

English 

(Expressive Arts Department)

--

“Literally though, who decided that English fit in ‘Expressive Arts’?” Pete asked, swinging his feet up on to the table in front on him. “Expressive Arts – literally that’s just Gerard Way’s creepy vampire things and Greta and her piano.” Silently he wondered the consequences of smashing said piano. Greta would probably kill him – which was a shame. Pete had seen this thing from the 60’s where everyone used to smash their pianos up when they got TVs instead. He’d like to give it a go.

“Tom Conrad is in it to. Photography.” Ryan pointed out “And Drama.”

“Ryan Ross, I don’t think you’re angry enough about this!” Pete fumed, waving his hands in Ryan’s face. “We are being oppressed – we do not have our own department! It’s scandal – its blasphemy, we need to protest or something-”

Frank cut him off “You do know that not even maths has their own department? The only one that actually does is PE and that’s because Merrick is hot and no one wants to upset him!”

“This is why we need to change it!” Pete protested, pausing slightly at the mention of Zack Merrick, PE teacher who was in actual fact, very hot. Pete would probably try to woo him or something, if not for Patrick Stump. Patrick was the one holder of Pete’s heart. “We will have a revolution! Viva la English!”

“I believe its Anglais.” Ryan cut in, accent on point.

“Oh shut up Ryan Ross, you don’t even teach French!”

--

“So” Greta smiled cheerfully. “New year. Same music department. I don’t think things could get much better.”

“I don’t know” Patrick sighed “I’d really like a choir room – imagine what you could do with the acoustics.” A choir room would be so awesome. Patrick really wanted a proper choir. And maybe a marching band.

“Barrington has a grand total of 786 students. There is no way we would ever get the funding.” Greta pointed out “Jamia has been fundraising for three years and has not even got half of what the art dep want to go to Quebec! Quebec – literally 500 miles!”

“Greta why are you always the voice of reason?” Patrick asked, giving a long-suffering sigh. Greta was good for that when Brendon was getting over excited (it happened a lot) but it also meant she was crushing the life out of Patrick’s dreams one by one as alas, she was right.

“Greta’s a fairy” Brendon chirped, walking in with three coffee cups dubiously held with both hands. “And actual magical one. Far more magic then Jon Walker.”

“Jon Walker is not magic!” Greta protested, ignoring the fact that Brendon had rated her higher than him.  Greta had something against Jon Walker “He lives in flip-flops and fucked William Beckett!”

“Everyone’s fucked William Beckett.” Patrick pointed out, turning to look Greta in the eyes. “You fucked William Beckett.”

Greta looked down into her coffee cup “that was different. And it wasn’t at the summer party!”

Brendon though, looked at Greta with eyes bright with wonder. “Greta you fucked William Beckett? That now makes the whole music department!” Brendon seemed entirely too-excited about that fact.

A fact that Greta, had actually, not known. Very, very slowly Greta turned to face Brendon who is looking completely normal and stirring his coffee with his finger. And then she moved her gaze on to Patrick who was bright burning red and pretending to read the posters on the walls whilst most surely not ignoring Greta Salpeter.

--

“It is stupid. You are stupid!” Maja declared, frowning at Gabe who was slouched across from her. “Victoria has a standard. You are below that standard. Much, much below.”

Travie laughed in delight, Gabe shot him an annoyed look. “Maja darling – I don’t think you understand. Vicky-T and I? We go back, way back. It’s not like we have never done it before.”

“You did it before? After, after she must have reset her standard. You were that bad.”

Travie curved over, laughter racking his whole body. Gabe was still frowning. “You know Maja, I much preferred you when you were just a student teacher and couldn’t speak English.”

Maja smirked.

The Languages Department was arguably the one filled with the most drama. Actually, scratch that, it was the most filled with Gabe Saporta. And Gabe Saporta equalled to drama. Especially when he was in the same space with Maja Ivarsson. Travie was just an innocent bystander in all of it.

--

“But you don’t get it! They think I’m a joke. ‘She’s female and likes makeup so she obviously doesn’t know what’s she’s teaching! She’s obviously some dumb pretty thing who doesn’t understand anything!’ They look at me like I’m a piece of meat – meat! Can you understand how insulting that is! I have a masters! A master’s degree in Biology and most these people probably never even passed their GCSE’s! It’s stupid – and people say that gender inequality isn’t a thing! They say feminists are arguing about nothing – and most people who say that are men! Men! Men are paid more, men are respected men, and men aren’t told their pretty young things who obviously don’t know anything! Men aren’t laughed at for wanting to be heart surgeons – and then laughed at when they can’t be a surgeon and become teachers! All the students at this school – they all think I’m some kind of a joke! None of them treat me anything close to seriously – I try and be nice and friendly and a cool teacher and then I’m the ditsy, blonde pushover! And when I give detentions and be serious and get angry – when I do that they just say I’m on my period or must’ve just got dumped! I’m given no respect – heck, even most the staff see me as some ditsy thing too and I’m sick of it! I’m fed up – have had enough!”

“Wow” Alex Marshall said, looking at Ashlee who was rather red faced and breathing heavily. “You must have a lot to get off your mind.”

“I swear, if you say I’m being over the top or making a fuss…” Ashlee threatened, eyes growing murderous.

“I wasn’t – I would never-” Marshall squeaked, eyes growing wide and more than slightly terrified.

“It’s okay Ash” Andy Hurley, biology teacher, animal rights activist, cool tattoo man, vegan, seriously strong, kind of scary looking and a huge feminist, smiled. “We’ll help you.”

Marshall nodded quickly as Ashlee swept her murderous gaze back on to him. Something on his face must have told of his support though, as Ashlee’s eyes cleared and she smiled brightly.

“Thank you, aww thank you so much. We’ll destroy these misogynists!”

Alex Marshall was a firm believer in equal rights between all genders and races and sexualities and whatever else Tumblr preached about but there was something that was really scary – actually a lot of things – about Ashlee Simpson.

Andy Hurley though, completely brilliant at everything, looked heavily enthusiastic about destroying misogynists. And Alex had thought he was a pacifist.

 

--

“Troops with me!” LynZ cried, welding the metre ruler stick she’d decided that would make a great sword. She was having entirely too much fun with ambushing the Art Department – not that anyone could really blame her. It was the first day of school. Mikey was doing the exact same – and that was actually a really confusing thing. Gerard Way had somehow managed to marry someone strangely similar to his own brother.

“Hurry up Alex!” Cash was the only one who actually called Alex, Alex. Apart from Hayley. Everyone else just kept to surnames – at least in the STEM department, there were way too many Alexes.

“My gallant team!” LynZ called, “Gather your swords. You too Deleon! This will be the attack of the year – this will be the big one. We will invade the Art rooms and take as many prisoners as possible – those who fall behind will be left behind! You must stay strong! We can do this!”

Tennessee, Cash and Hayley all fell into cheers, waving their weapons. Tennessee also had a metre stick, Cash was clutching two handfuls of tweezers (the Chemistry dep had way better weapons than Physics, this wasn’t fair). Mikey himself was in possession of a weight stick that looked cool enough to suggest it might do some damage. Hayley though, had the greatest – she was holding an actually to god chainsaw. It wasn’t turned on but she still had it and Mikey simultaneously both really wanted and really didn’t want to know where she got it from.

The Physics and Chemistry group where charging up the stairs, LynZ leading the way with her ruler held high and  Alex Deleon last – more of reluctance than trying to be a guard. Mikey was right next to Hayley – and she was swinging her chainsaw around vigorously and it was more than slightly terrifying.

The doors at the top of the stairs were shut and LynZ pushed against them but they didn’t move. Jamia and the Butcher could be seen through the glass panels, grinning at the Physics-Chemistry team in triumph.

“Our attack has been foreseen!” LynZ complained, pouting. Hayley smiled brightly, waving her chainsaw at the two art teachers through the glass. Both Jamia and Butcher blanched, taking a step backwards, paling suitable when they saw the tiny Hayley carrying a weapon no one should ever trust her with.

Somewhere in the school a bell rung and LynZ gave the door a furious look. “This isn’t over! We will be back, we will triumph!”

“We can try going along past the library later?” Tennessee asked, as they were making their way back down the stairs.

LynZ nodded “I like your thinking. We’ll draw up a map.”

“Hey Lyn?” Cash asked, just before they split off in their separate directions. “I thought you said this was going to be the attack of the year.”

LynZ scowled.

“Hey, we can get the biology dep to join us next time!” Deleon exclaimed. It was suspected that he just wanted Marshall to talk to.

 

--

TO: ALL TEACHERS (EXPRESSIVE ARTS, MODERN FOREIGN LANGUAGES, STEM, HUMANITIES, PHYSICAL EDUCATION AND TECHNOLOGY DEPARTMENTS)

FROM:  JAMIA IERO, Jnestor@barringtonhighschool.org

 SUBJECT: Fundraising

Hi all,

The Arts Department (And I mean the actual Art teachers + Jwalk) are planning a fucking huge scale bake sale to raise money to go to Quebec so could please everyone who can cook, cook something. (ESPECIALLY YOU SUAREZ).

Anyone who brings in whatever – and yes Bden, it can be shop brought – don’t you even think about bringing anything of yours that isn’t, we’ve all seen your cooking – please put it in Gee’s room for Tuesday 14th (room 2034 if you didn’t know – not that you can’t know there are fucking zombies everywhere).

Also, to the Physics-Chemistry team – we have the history crew. I hope y’all ready!

Thanks,

Jamia Iero

Art Department

--

TO: ALL TEACHERS (EXPRESSIVE ARTS, MODERN FOREIGN LANGUAGES, STEM, HUMANITIES, PHYSICAL EDUCATION AND TECHNOLOGY DEPARTMENTS)

FROM:  TRAVIS CLARK, Tclark@barringtonhighschool.org

 SUBJECT: Fundraising (2)

Hey please note that Jamia does not have the History dep – we have no want to be dragged into this feud of yours. That included Ryland & Z as well as me. Okay? Thanks.

Travis Clark,

History Department

--

TO: ALL TEACHERS (EXPRESSIVE ARTS, MODERN FOREIGN LANGUAGES, STEM, HUMANITIES, PHYSICAL EDUCATION AND TECHNOLOGY DEPARTMENTS)

FROM:  LINDSEY WAY Lway@barringtonhighschool.org

 SUBJECT: Fundraising (3)

Too late.

You’re never escaping!

Lindsey Way,

Chemistry Department

--

TO: ALL TEACHERS (EXPRESSIVE ARTS, MODERN FOREIGN LANGUAGES, STEM, HUMANITIES, PHYSICAL EDUCATION AND TECHNOLOGY DEPARTMENTS)

FROM:  BRIAN SCHECHTER, Bschechter@barringtonhighschool.org

 SUBJECT: Fundraising (4)

Please can Jamia Iero, Travis Clark & LynZ Way refrain from contacting each other when ALL TEACHERS receive the emails? And also to the many others who do this – looking at you, William Beckett and Brendon Urie.

Much appreciated,

Brian Schechter

Deputy Head – MA : Maths & Geometry

--

TO: ALL TEACHERS (EXPRESSIVE ARTS, MODERN FOREIGN LANGUAGES, STEM, HUMANITIES, PHYSICAL EDUCATION AND TECHNOLOGY DEPARTMENTS)

FROM:  JAMIA NESTOR, Jiero@barringtonhighschool.org

 SUBJECT: Fundraising (5)

IT WASN’T EVEN ME! THAT WAS JUST A SUBNOTE! A SUBNOTE IN AN EMAIL ABOUT CAKE SALES!!!

FUCK YOU LNYZ, GETTING SCHECHTER TO REGISTER THAT I EXIST. NOW HE’S GONNA ACTUALLY MAYBE SEE THE LACK OF SHIT I DO!

Jamia Iero,

Art Department

--

TO: ALL TEACHERS (EXPRESSIVE ARTS, MODERN FOREIGN LANGUAGES, STEM, HUMANITIES, PHYSICAL EDUCATION AND TECHNOLOGY DEPARTMENTS)

FROM:  LINDSEY WAY, Lway@barringtonhighschool.org

 SUBJECT: Fundraising (6)

Alas, it’s too late for that Brian

 (Mwahahahahaaaaa @  JAMIA. PrePARE TO BE DEFEATED! Also please tell gee that too, he never checks his emails)

Lindsey Way,

Chemistry Department

--

The Maths department was hell and Vicky-T was the King of it all.

“I don’t see why you get to be King?” Dallon complained “What if I wanted to be King?”

“Monarchy is something you’re born into” Victoria said, tossing her hair “I was born into it. You, lowly peasant, were not!”

“Why am I a lowly peasant?” Dallon asked, pouting. “What have I done to earn that title?”

Vicky shrugged “You were born into it.”

“Why would you want to be the King of hell?” Spencer wanted to know.

“It’s better than not being King” Vicky pointed out “I get automatic protection and bragging rights being King. It’s pretty cool.”

Spencer nodded – he couldn’t really fault Vicky. Or he could but that would be a scary, dreadful thing to do as Vicky was the King of hell and could probably set Spencer on fire or something. Or set Bob on him. Bob was stood behind Vicky, leant against the wall with his arms crossed and his face expressionless.  The expressionlessness did not trick Spencer though; Bob was always on Vicky’s side. Apart from that time she’d said Alex Suarez was prettier than Frank Iero.

“What was Spencer born into?” Dallon asked, still pouting slightly as he looked up at Vicky who’d sat herself on the comfy wheelie chair. Normally this would still meant Dallon was taller than Vicky but Vicky-T Asher had put the wheelie chair to its full height and made Dallon sit on the floor.

“Spencer was born to being crown princess. He’s most definitely got the hips for it.”

Dallon fell into delighted laughter. Spencer did his best to ignore them all. Fuck hell.

--

“Now that you’re actually here” Pete shoots William an annoyed look. “We need a battle plan.”

William blinks. He looks especially good when he blinks like that. It’s kind of an odd thing to notice but he has really, really good eyelashes. Just made to be admired.  “I thought we were staying out the art and science feud?”

“Yes we are! Especially seeing as we’re not Art!” Pete was still (and he saw it as rightly so) angry. It was kind of stupid that English was the only subject that didn’t even get to be called ‘English Department’ on the signatures of their emails. All the other subjects – despite being STEM or Humanities officially, not their actually subject name.

“We are categorised in the expressive arts department though?” William sounds entirely too confused than someone who’s being working with Pete Wentz and Ryan Ross for last three years deserved too. 

“And that’s what we’re going to change! We are the only department that has ‘Expressive Arts Department’ underneath English Department we actually are on our email signature!” It was important to say aloud previous thoughts. “This is why we need a battle plan! We are going to be our own fully functioning, self-sufficient and successful department!”

“But Merrick’s is the only officially single department. How do you plan on doing this?” William asked curiously, eyebrows creasing as he tilted his head.

“I said that” Frank said, stretching his feet out and trying to kick William. He fails, ultimately, being like two foot. Not really. He probably was once though.

“I don’t know.” Pete sighs, flapping his hands “We think Merrick got it because he’s hot.”

“And we’re not hot?” Ryan asks. It’s the first time Ryan has spoken in the conversation and the most valid point that Ryan has probably ever said in his whole entire life. Pete approved immensely.

“Point.”  Once again, speaking previous thoughts aloud. Very important. “We have Frank Iero and Ryan Ross and me and fucking you Bilvy Beckett, how are we anything but hot?”

“I love how you included yourself in that.” Frank laughs.

“Honesty is the best policy” Pete shrugged before pausing. “Do you think that Merrick slept with Howard or something?”

“I don’t think that would’ve done it” William said considering “I’ve slept with Howard and that obviously hasn’t changed anything. And it can’t be that Merrick is a really good fuck or anything because I’ve slept with Merrick too and really he is not as good as his appearance suggests.”

“Jesus Beckett, is there anyone in this school you haven’t slept with?” Frank asked, wrinkling his nose.

William paused. “Um, like Jamia? I ain’t a homewrecker.”

“But you didn’t mention Frank there?” Pete asked, momentarily forgetting about his grand battle plans. Who William Beckett fucked (or hadn’t fucked, hadn’t would be a much shorter list) was kind of interesting. Mainly the not fucked bit. If there was anyone who you weren’t sure about it was safe to just guess fucked. On the other hand, if you ever needed to know anyone’s sexuality….

William shrugged “Well Frank and me slept together before he and Jamia were together. I think. It might’ve just been before they were married.”

Pete swivelled to look at Frank. Frank rolled his eyes “It was before Jamia and I were together.”

“Oh” Pete was more than slightly disappointed before his face brightened. “Hey what’s Patrick like in bed?”

William raised an eyebrow “hmm, why don’t you tell me- oh wait that’s right! He doesn’t even like to talk to you!” Sometimes, sometimes William Beckett was actually a bitch. Ryan Ross class bitch. He probably learnt it of Ryan.

Mind you Pete kind of could be a little bit rude sometimes. Maybe he should stop calling Bilvy a slut so much – especially if he wanted to know about Patrick. Anything about Patrick that is. Anything would be awesome. What it’s like to be friends with him for once. Was Pete friends with him? Nobody knew. Or Patrick probably knew but he was probably the only one. Maybe Joe Troham too.

--

“You see” Gabe said “I think it’s going to be brilliant.”

Travie and Maja looked at each other and then at the whiteboard which was covered in arrows and squiggles and slanted writing – and all titled ‘Gabe’s fucking awesome plan to get Victoria Asher to go on a date with him’. GPVA for short.

Silence filled the room.

“Gabe man.” Travie said carefully. “Gabey Baby. Gabanti. Gabriel Eduardo Saporta. Uhh, maybe you want to reconsider that?”

Maja was not so careful. “So stupid."

Gabe stood up, knocking his chair to the floor. Maja and Travie looked at each other. Gabe stepped forwards, uncapping the whiteboard dry erase marker in his hand. Maja and Travie looked at each other once again. Gabe was going to explode or something.

He did explode. The whiteboard dry erase marker slashed against Maja’s face quickly, a large black line going from the top of her forehead to her chin. Maja shrieked – standing up and being actually no taller than she was sat down.

“Gabriel Saporta!” She yelled in a heavily accented voice. Her accent got stronger and stronger the more emotional she got. “Oh you are stupid!”

She stormed out the room, boots echoing along the floor. Gabe and Travie looked at each other.

“Well you’re fucked Gabe man."

--

“I think” Brendon said, looking up from where he was sprawled across the piano. “That I am in love.”

“With Jon Walker?” Patrick asked, not looking up from the papers he was marking.

Brendon gave a shocked gasp and sat up, the keys sounding dreadfully as he removed his weight from them. “Patrick. How could you? Of course not. Jon Walker is a god, I am but mere mortal. He is untouchable. Perfection in human form.”

“And flip-flops and the world's scruffiest beard right” Greta said dryly “Who then Bden? Who is this love of yours?”

Brendon slumped back onto the piano. Both Greta and Patrick winced as the keys clanged.

“Bren?” Patrick tried “You’ll feel better if you tell us.”

“You’ll just tell Pete or Andy Hurley or something” Brendon moaned.

“I’d never” Patrick said quickly, crossing his fingers under the desk. “Honest.”

“Spencer Smith” Brendon gave a long sigh “Spencer James Smith. And he probably doesn’t even know who I am.”

“I’m sure he does” Greta said “Like you’re really not hard to miss. You could introduce yourself to him anyway. He and Jwalk are friends, yeah? Go and bug your angel Jon Walker and Smith will probably turn up sooner or later.”

Brendon gasped, siting up straight once again. “Greta you are the angel here! Seriously, you’re a beautiful, magical spirit that I do not even deserve to look at - let alone be advised by!”

Greta looked oddly fond as she watched Brendon run from the room. Patrick watched him too – albeit for entirely different reasons.

--

TO: ANDY HURLEY, JOE TROHAM, PETE WENTZ,

FROM:  PATRICK STUMP Pstump@barringtonhighschol.org

 SUBJECT:!!!!

BDEN IS CRUSHING ON SPENCER SMITH! DON’T TELL ANYONE THOUGH!

Patrick Stump,

Music Department

--

“Hey Bilvy?” Pete asked, looking up from his laptop. “You know Brendon Urie? ‘Trick says he’s crushing on Spencer Smith.”

William Beckett looked up from the pile of papers he was certainly not ignoring instead of marking. “Really? Spencer Smith likes Jon Walker.”

“He does?” Pete asked, leaning forwards in his seat.

William shrugged “Well, he did like two weeks ago.”

Pete turned back to his laptop, typing furiously.

--

TO: PATRICK STUMP

FROM:  PETE WENTZ, Pwentz@barringtonhighschol.org

 SUBJECT:!!!! (2)

bill sys smith <3 jwalk??

 

Pete Wentz,

English

(Expressive Arts Department)