God it seemed so long since anyone had actually called her that.
It sounded strange, “Ms. Spades” that is, after an entire Summer of being on a first-name basis with everyone she came into contact with. Most of the other teachers knew to just call her “Ally”, and she insisted that her patients call her that too. Something about the needless formality in the title, it just really didn’t wow her. Now DOCTOR Spades, that would have been understandable! If she was a doctor, she wouldn’t dare let those girls call her “Ms.” Or “Ally”—better be damn sure that they’d call her “Dr. Spades”
However strange, Ally found it exponentially more irksome that someone had imposed even the slightest delay on her morning meal. Her throbbing head may have had something to do with it, her bloodshot eyes widening with venomous intent as she turned slightly to decipher the source of this mild irritation, but the real source of her anger was probably in the fact that she just wasn’t a very sociable person. Not like most of the other faculty at Buttercombe Academy, no. She wasn’t quite a loner, she enjoyed drinking socially far too much to be considered that, just in that her attention span that pertained to anything other than herself was quite short.
She dare not stop her hasty waddle back to her table, her burgeoning belly bobbing with every belabored step, though in the corner of her eye she could make out a shape moving towards her. She inwardly braced herself for the inevitable displeasure of (UUUUGHH!) Human Contact. With a student, no less. They all just seemed so… eager—the ones that fraternized with the faculty, anyway. A bunch of brown-nosers, even one, getting up in her business this early in the morning after a particularly heavy drinking session but before she was done with her breakfast did not a happy Med Tech make.
“Ms. Spades, hi!”
Unfortunately for her, the source of her irritation was much faster than she was—owing more to youth than to any real sense of physical fitness. Even as she carried herself as quickly as manageable, that annoying little voice to her right seemed to get ever closer. Why was she tested like this? She only had one more day, two days at best before she had to get back to work, and then she would deal with all these annoying little princesses and all their piddly problems. Was it so much to ask that she be allowed to cope with a hangover in the manner she saw fit, completely uninterrupted?
So close was this voice that Ally knew she had no choice but to bite the bullet. Letting out a sigh that audibly voiced her displeasure, she turned. Despite being a woman that most would consider very attractive, her face held loads of potential for intimidation. When she had been drinking, rather after she had been drinking, it was very obvious (to most) that she was in no mood for idle chitchat.
Ally stood and waited as the student came closer, gritting her teeth in disproportionate irritation at the slight hiccup in her plan of eating her hangover away. This had better be good...
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