Three weeks passed a lot quicker than I expected. My attempts at keeping my position might have been successful because I swear, I've been working hard. Making and recommending new recipes for Professor Neuman to use. The high grades that I've been getting in all my classes, especially cooking class.

The relationship between Derek and I hasn't changed either as I still hate his guts and so does, he. He does occasionally beat me at the cooking practicals.... all right majority of the time. But that's all because of his rich presence and cute Spanish accent.

We're now playing a game called, How Fake Can You Be? That's where we see each other and give the fakest greetings to each other as if we just met at church. Derek often gives me the best how are you going, and I respond with I was going well. We would go back and forth with sarcastic banter.

Week 7, Term 3, English.

I'm situated in the middle row which I would consider the perfect area to sit down for a class. The front is far too nerdy whilst the back was 100% doing something shady.

The class would be amazing if I didn't happen to be in the same class as Derek and Steve. I guess we near noticed each other before since we were in different social circles. All of a sudden, because of the head chef position, we suddenly realise we're in the same classes and now Steve makes a tacky joke every time he sees me.

'Hey Brooke, or should I say book.'

Just like now. I give Steve a look of disgust and continued listening to my English teacher. He was about to say something else before Derek stopped him. I continue to focus on our lesson in classics with Hamlet, but Steve continued tapping on my chair was starting to piss me off. I was situated between Derek and Steve so must of the crap that Steve was pulling, Derek wasn't even aware of it.

This seating plan sucks.

I notice Steve sliding a note right under my English book, patting my book and then continuing to pretend like he was paying attention. Derek takes note of this right away and takes the note before I could even read it. He reads it and quickly folds it up. I look at him and he gives me a look of fake surprise before scrunching up the note in his pocket.

Why should I care what that note says? Probably Steve being Steve with some corny joke.

Class ends and I feel a lot more tired than at the start. My English teacher, Professor Dean stands up enthusiastically as we stand awkwardly. 'Well, I hope you will be doing your homework over the weekend. I'm looking at you in the back.'

Sarcastic responses ensue.

'Also, Ms Monet, visit me shortly. The rest of you can scatter.'

Why was she asking for me? It's not about grades. right?

Derek taps me on the shoulder. 'Try not to get an F so easily. Otherwise getting that position would be easy.'

'In your dreams.' I say walking towards Ms making sure strides look and feel confident (although I don't feel that way at all). Did I get caught for surpassing the word count of 950 words?

I wait in awkward silence as Dean collects her notes and organises the files on her laptop. I feel for a second that I'm Casper. She looks towards me, and smiles and I hope she hasn't just realised that I existed.

'Brooke, do you live with your father?'

I feel my skin tense. 'May I ask why you are asking?'

'Well, I was contacted by him the other day in which he asked me how you were doing in school. I gave him a positive response you have been doing well in school.'

I tighten my fists and take a step forward; maybe seeming a little too eager.

'May I have the email he used? He must have changed over and forgot to tell me.' I lied to Ms, hoping she believed me.

'Uh sure. Let me just get in up on my computer.'

Just like that, I got my father's email which didn't seem like much until I realised that his email was connected to his phone number which wasn't the same one that either I or mum had.

I had his actual number in hand. Ready to be called at any moment. I'm both happy and scared at the same time...