Cammie and Adrienne
Jul. 4th, 2009 06:15 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAdrienne bribes Cammie into doing math to study for her GED with an evil tshirt.
She had finally shuffled her back to both her jobs and Cammie had to admit, it gave her something to focus on. And it was still fun, busting shop lifters at the store. She was juggling it with studying for the GED test and training with Logan, so it kept her busy. She liked busy. She didn’t have to think or spend too much time on everything. In fact, she had come to the conclusion that her past could go fuck itself.
She’d bring a video camera.
It was late and she was sitting in her doorway looking over something that was supposed to help with math. The section of the test she knew she was most likely to fail.
“Fuck you, X. No one cares what you equal.”
"I care, X," Adrienne said from down the hall in her best soap-opera-maven voice. "I care what you equal." She paused in Cammie's doorway, holding out a small boutique bag. "If you figure out what X equals, I'll give you a present?" she smirked, swinging the bag back and forth like it was a sausage in front of a dog's nose.
“Can I pick a random number now or do I actually have to solve it?” Cammie said, perking up. Shifting hurt her shoulder a bit, put for the most part her chest was now completely healed but it got stiff when she sat too long. “Math isn’t my strong suit,” she said, “But I will take what’s in the bag, so I guess you’re making the rules.”
"Solve it, wiseass," Adrienne commanded. She crouched next to Cammie, holding the bag behind her back and stifling a yawn- she hadn't been sleeping well recently. "Here, look. Gather all your like terms on one side of the equals sign, and cancel them out." She tried to point things out, but was in an awkward position. "Think we could move this party to somewhere with chairs and a desk?"
“I’m not against chairs and desks. Might want the rec room though, my place always smells like chemicals and death. I find it cheery, not everyone else agrees,” Cammie said, staring down at the basic algebra shit that she supposed most ninth graders knew how to do. That she did know how to, years ago, but found out that no one in life really cared if you could solve for X, unless they were somehow attached to schooling. Like this test.
Cammie stood up, “If nothing else, I can swear at math in a different location.”
Adrienne got to her feet and led the way to the rec room. "By the time I'm finished with you, you will be singing math's praises rather than swearing at it, I promise. We'll find something else for you to swear at." She pulled a plain black pencil case out of her purse along with a steno pad so she could talk through the problem on paper, knowing that visualizing math was the easiest way to understand it. "You're back at the shop, I hear. Mostly pain-free?"
“I’ll swear at English then. Grammar ‘r dumb,” she said with a shrug as she followed Adrienne, “And yep. Pretty much. Still sore, but hey. Learned my lesson about bars.”
"English is completely fair game as far as I'm concerned," the math teacher agreed, taking a seat in the rec room and laying out her supplies in front of her. "Well, everyone has to learn their lesson about bars at some point in their life," she pointed out with a sage nod, "so it's probably best you're learning yours so young. Some of us never do learn."
Cammie sat down, “Well, it’s sad when you consider alley fights to be a safer bet,” she quipped, putting down the study stuff in front of her, “I did like fleecing drunk guys, but I suppose I can go back to actually working for a living. Less chance of getting a broken bottle in your chest.”
"Quite," Adrienne responded, cutting herself off before she said any more. Her violent nightmares of late nearly caused her to point out that Cammie could just not fight in the first place, but she reminded herself that the young woman had already learned her lesson, and that it was Adrienne's task to teach her math, not anything else. "Alright, here's your problem, yes?" she asked, writing the equation out on her steno pad. "So what you have to do, is figure out how to isolate the X so it's the only thing on the one side of the equals sign. We can move the other letters over by reversing the signs in front of them. So if this one," she pointed, "says plus a, we write minus a on the other side of the equals sign and we cross the plus a out of the side with the x on it. Make sense?"
“Kind of. I mean, I remember learning this stuff in high school. So, it’s all about balance right?” Cammie wasn’t very good with balance, she preferred tipping the scales. “I guess I kind of get it. I sort of have to dust off that part of my brain I thought I wasn’t going to use anymore.”
Adrienne nodded. "All about balance. Blow on your brain and if you solve this one without my help I'll give you your present."
“Oooh, incentive,” Cammie said, before looking down at the problem. If a fourteen year old could do it, she could to. She wasn’t stupid, she’d be dead by now if she was, “Just give me a moment.”
It took ten minutes. She didn’t forget how to do things once she learned them, but it was remembering how that was the hard part.
“I think I have it, but hey, I could be wrong,” she said finally.
"If bribery can work to get a catgirl to pass, it can work for anyone," Adrienne pointed out. She checked the equation over when the young woman had finished and smiled over at her. "Very well done. Gold star." A tiny sense of pride was evident in her smile- she'd known Cammie could get her GED if she set her mind to it, and was pleased that that belief hadn't been misplaced. "The hard work and cursing you've been putting in is paying off- you're going to do well on the test." She pulled a tshirt with the slogan 'WWJD for a Klondike Bar' out of the bag she held and presented it to Cammie.
“Oooh, shiny,” Cammie said taking the shirt with a laugh, “I like this one. And if you say so. I don’t like tests, so I’ll get it over with and get a piece of paper that says I’m smarter than your average drop out. Then the mystery becomes what to do with that.”
"I have no doubt you'll solve the mystery," the math teacher smiled. "You can always keep working at the shop until you do. Your manager tells me you're quite adept at deterring shoplifters. That's a skill you can't get with any piece of paper," she smirked.
“No, that’s a skill I got from shoplifting myself. Most of these kids don’t even try these days. It’s pretty sad, actually. Not that thievery is an art or anything,” Cammie mused, “But seriously they could at least try to outwit me. It is nice… to at least be making money. So… uh… thanks. For giving me the chance.”
Adrienne stared down at the steno pad and let her sable hair curtain around her face, hiding her blush. A thought was nagging at her brain, a question of why she needed something like the Hellfire Club when something as simple as hiring a young woman to staff her business and having that person say thank you gave her such a feeling of happiness. She pushed the question away, chalking it up to sleep deprivation. "Well, thank you for not wasting it. Many people have." Between hiring people for the shop and the modeling agency, Adrienne had faced a lot of disappointment in the people she'd tried to give chances to, but the ones who used the chance she gave them to make something of themselves made her eager to keep offering. "I'm glad I was right about you."
“Hey, someone had to be and I’m glad it wasn’t my birth mother,” Cammie returned. “Either way, if you ever feel like listening I can tell you where to stick more mirrors on the ceiling in there so it’s easier for everyone else to catch them too. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to catch someone stealing something,” Cammie said dryly.
Adrienne's eyes went wide at the allusion to herself and the word 'mother.' That was a scary thought. "Jake told me about the run-in with your mother. I'd say I'm sorry for the way things turned out, but I don't think you'd want my pity. Or need it. We are what we make ourselves to be," she muttered, half to herself, "our parentage doesn't matter in the end." She gave Cammie a nod. "I always feel like listening when the topic is the boutique, especially when it's about how to improve profits."
“He did, huh? Yeah, no pity please. I don’t like riding the pity train,” she said. “I’ll ride the emo train on occasion, but the music sucks,” she said and then nodded, “Fine, here, I’ll draw it out. Set it up right and people will just think the mirrors are there for them to stare at themselves with.”
She had finally shuffled her back to both her jobs and Cammie had to admit, it gave her something to focus on. And it was still fun, busting shop lifters at the store. She was juggling it with studying for the GED test and training with Logan, so it kept her busy. She liked busy. She didn’t have to think or spend too much time on everything. In fact, she had come to the conclusion that her past could go fuck itself.
She’d bring a video camera.
It was late and she was sitting in her doorway looking over something that was supposed to help with math. The section of the test she knew she was most likely to fail.
“Fuck you, X. No one cares what you equal.”
"I care, X," Adrienne said from down the hall in her best soap-opera-maven voice. "I care what you equal." She paused in Cammie's doorway, holding out a small boutique bag. "If you figure out what X equals, I'll give you a present?" she smirked, swinging the bag back and forth like it was a sausage in front of a dog's nose.
“Can I pick a random number now or do I actually have to solve it?” Cammie said, perking up. Shifting hurt her shoulder a bit, put for the most part her chest was now completely healed but it got stiff when she sat too long. “Math isn’t my strong suit,” she said, “But I will take what’s in the bag, so I guess you’re making the rules.”
"Solve it, wiseass," Adrienne commanded. She crouched next to Cammie, holding the bag behind her back and stifling a yawn- she hadn't been sleeping well recently. "Here, look. Gather all your like terms on one side of the equals sign, and cancel them out." She tried to point things out, but was in an awkward position. "Think we could move this party to somewhere with chairs and a desk?"
“I’m not against chairs and desks. Might want the rec room though, my place always smells like chemicals and death. I find it cheery, not everyone else agrees,” Cammie said, staring down at the basic algebra shit that she supposed most ninth graders knew how to do. That she did know how to, years ago, but found out that no one in life really cared if you could solve for X, unless they were somehow attached to schooling. Like this test.
Cammie stood up, “If nothing else, I can swear at math in a different location.”
Adrienne got to her feet and led the way to the rec room. "By the time I'm finished with you, you will be singing math's praises rather than swearing at it, I promise. We'll find something else for you to swear at." She pulled a plain black pencil case out of her purse along with a steno pad so she could talk through the problem on paper, knowing that visualizing math was the easiest way to understand it. "You're back at the shop, I hear. Mostly pain-free?"
“I’ll swear at English then. Grammar ‘r dumb,” she said with a shrug as she followed Adrienne, “And yep. Pretty much. Still sore, but hey. Learned my lesson about bars.”
"English is completely fair game as far as I'm concerned," the math teacher agreed, taking a seat in the rec room and laying out her supplies in front of her. "Well, everyone has to learn their lesson about bars at some point in their life," she pointed out with a sage nod, "so it's probably best you're learning yours so young. Some of us never do learn."
Cammie sat down, “Well, it’s sad when you consider alley fights to be a safer bet,” she quipped, putting down the study stuff in front of her, “I did like fleecing drunk guys, but I suppose I can go back to actually working for a living. Less chance of getting a broken bottle in your chest.”
"Quite," Adrienne responded, cutting herself off before she said any more. Her violent nightmares of late nearly caused her to point out that Cammie could just not fight in the first place, but she reminded herself that the young woman had already learned her lesson, and that it was Adrienne's task to teach her math, not anything else. "Alright, here's your problem, yes?" she asked, writing the equation out on her steno pad. "So what you have to do, is figure out how to isolate the X so it's the only thing on the one side of the equals sign. We can move the other letters over by reversing the signs in front of them. So if this one," she pointed, "says plus a, we write minus a on the other side of the equals sign and we cross the plus a out of the side with the x on it. Make sense?"
“Kind of. I mean, I remember learning this stuff in high school. So, it’s all about balance right?” Cammie wasn’t very good with balance, she preferred tipping the scales. “I guess I kind of get it. I sort of have to dust off that part of my brain I thought I wasn’t going to use anymore.”
Adrienne nodded. "All about balance. Blow on your brain and if you solve this one without my help I'll give you your present."
“Oooh, incentive,” Cammie said, before looking down at the problem. If a fourteen year old could do it, she could to. She wasn’t stupid, she’d be dead by now if she was, “Just give me a moment.”
It took ten minutes. She didn’t forget how to do things once she learned them, but it was remembering how that was the hard part.
“I think I have it, but hey, I could be wrong,” she said finally.
"If bribery can work to get a catgirl to pass, it can work for anyone," Adrienne pointed out. She checked the equation over when the young woman had finished and smiled over at her. "Very well done. Gold star." A tiny sense of pride was evident in her smile- she'd known Cammie could get her GED if she set her mind to it, and was pleased that that belief hadn't been misplaced. "The hard work and cursing you've been putting in is paying off- you're going to do well on the test." She pulled a tshirt with the slogan 'WWJD for a Klondike Bar' out of the bag she held and presented it to Cammie.
“Oooh, shiny,” Cammie said taking the shirt with a laugh, “I like this one. And if you say so. I don’t like tests, so I’ll get it over with and get a piece of paper that says I’m smarter than your average drop out. Then the mystery becomes what to do with that.”
"I have no doubt you'll solve the mystery," the math teacher smiled. "You can always keep working at the shop until you do. Your manager tells me you're quite adept at deterring shoplifters. That's a skill you can't get with any piece of paper," she smirked.
“No, that’s a skill I got from shoplifting myself. Most of these kids don’t even try these days. It’s pretty sad, actually. Not that thievery is an art or anything,” Cammie mused, “But seriously they could at least try to outwit me. It is nice… to at least be making money. So… uh… thanks. For giving me the chance.”
Adrienne stared down at the steno pad and let her sable hair curtain around her face, hiding her blush. A thought was nagging at her brain, a question of why she needed something like the Hellfire Club when something as simple as hiring a young woman to staff her business and having that person say thank you gave her such a feeling of happiness. She pushed the question away, chalking it up to sleep deprivation. "Well, thank you for not wasting it. Many people have." Between hiring people for the shop and the modeling agency, Adrienne had faced a lot of disappointment in the people she'd tried to give chances to, but the ones who used the chance she gave them to make something of themselves made her eager to keep offering. "I'm glad I was right about you."
“Hey, someone had to be and I’m glad it wasn’t my birth mother,” Cammie returned. “Either way, if you ever feel like listening I can tell you where to stick more mirrors on the ceiling in there so it’s easier for everyone else to catch them too. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to catch someone stealing something,” Cammie said dryly.
Adrienne's eyes went wide at the allusion to herself and the word 'mother.' That was a scary thought. "Jake told me about the run-in with your mother. I'd say I'm sorry for the way things turned out, but I don't think you'd want my pity. Or need it. We are what we make ourselves to be," she muttered, half to herself, "our parentage doesn't matter in the end." She gave Cammie a nod. "I always feel like listening when the topic is the boutique, especially when it's about how to improve profits."
“He did, huh? Yeah, no pity please. I don’t like riding the pity train,” she said. “I’ll ride the emo train on occasion, but the music sucks,” she said and then nodded, “Fine, here, I’ll draw it out. Set it up right and people will just think the mirrors are there for them to stare at themselves with.”
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