-- HELP ME IF YOU CAN && [delysia]

Smoking in the bathrooms was not the wisest idea in the book, no, but it wasn't like she was the only one that did it. The cloudy haze surrounded her as she sat on the Formica counter-top, free hand braced against it and curled partway into the nearby sink. She could see scribbles of graffiti inside the open stalls and knew by heart what most of them said by now. Some were stupid things, a couple's initials scratched into the side, but others were almost funny. Then there were the inappropriate doodles and stall-door arguments. All a part of high school. As the door opened, Ro blew the smoke out in rings and ignored the newcomer. No one usually thought to complain about the smokers. "Ms. Bennett." She knew she was in trouble the moment she heard her surname spoken in that familiar voice. There was a long pause where she turned her blue eyes on the professor and held her smoke loosely in her thin fingers, mouth half-open as if to think of an excuse. What was there to say, though, except, "Mhm?" She caught the narrowed eyes at her casual tone, knew it would be a detention next. Not that detentions were a new thing to her. The older woman sighed, crossed her arms. "Come with me, please, Ms. Bennett. And put that out." Rowena blinked coolly at her, glanced at the cigarette she was holding, then sighed and tossed it into a toilet. Not like she had a choice, did she? The Thunder elemental followed after her professor with a sour look of disinterest etched onto her features.

"Detention hall's left," she said in a bored tone when the professor went right. She had memorized the location of the place after being sent down there too many times before. "That's not what I want from you, Rowena." She frowned at the use of her name. Get out with it, then. She managed to hold her tongue, knowing that she'd probably earn a good few detentions if she was smart with the woman. Sometimes she couldn't help but be catty toward the staff and other times she kept her best interests in mind. Today it was the latter. "This is the second time I've caught you sneaking out of class to smoke." The woman paused sternly as if waiting for some sort of explanation. Rowena blinked blue eyes at her, still walking. "Yeah?" It wasn't like she didn't know that herself. She hated when people repeated your crimes as if you didn't know what you'd done, as if constant conditioning would make you hate yourself for doing them. Not her, not Ro. "Then there was the throwing up." Ro flinched instinctively, forgetting that the professor had found out about that. Some stupid bitch in her class had told. "I told you, I was ill." She lied smoothly, lifting her shoulders as if to shrug it off. She could tell immediately that the woman did not believe her. Not this time. "Is there something going on at home, Ro?" Don't call me that. She was glaring now. This bitch didn't know a thing about her. She didn't have a typical 'home', not one with parents to watch over her. "No." What business was it of hers?

"I want you to talk to someone." She understood immediately what was being inferred. Talk to someone meant talk to a therapist, not a sister or a friend. She certainly wasn't opening her mouth to her professor. "I told you, I'm fine. I do talk to someone, I've got a fuckin' shrink." It was true and yet she could tell she was not going to be believed. That was the problem with lying so often. The Boy Who Cried Wolf had a pretty good morale. You can only say yes so many times before people start hearing no. "Your grades are slipping, Ms. Bennett. If you don't work something out with the guidance counselor, I'm going to have to fail you." This made the blonde's eyes flash with anger. Making threats, are you? "Whatever," she snapped, breaking away from the woman's company. The professor called after her but Rowena was no longer listening, needing to get away before she said something she'd really regret. And fifteen minutes later, with an expression on her face that could almost be called homicidal, she found herself inside the waiting room for guidance. The school had a few, owing to the fact that it was so large and there were so many things to be covered. Knocking on the door to her counselor's office, she folded her arms and rolled her eyes, looking indignant. "I was sent down to see you," she muttered, and her tone conveyed clearly how happy she was about it.