Next was Angie.
I looked at her. Her head was down, fists clenched, and her eyes were filled with tears. Looking at her, all the excitement I had earlier disappeared.
Seeing me walk toward her, she stepped out from her desk.
Before she could reach for her bag, I had an idea.
"Ma'am," I called to Miss Steven.
She looked up at me.
"I have to hit her twenty times," I said. "That might take a while. Could I take her to the empty room across the hall and punish her there? Then you can start the class."
Miss Steven thought about it for a moment.
"Fine," she said. "It's not like she is going to learn anything by being in the class anyway."
Angie slowly nodded and walked toward the door.
I followed her out into the hallway.
Man, she is such a bitch.
Angie walked into the empty room—or empty lab, to be precise. There wasn't much inside except a few empty jars and tubes left on the experiment tables.
She walked toward one of the tables and started getting into position for the spanking.
"Stop," I said.
She paused and looked back at me, confused.
"I didn't bring you here to spank you," I said.
A moment of relief crossed her face, then her eyebrows lifted in confusion.
"I'll clap my hands," I explained, "and you just… make it sound like I'm hitting you."
After a moment of dazed silence, she nodded and looked away, wiping her eyes, while I gave her an awkward smile in return.
"You ready?" I asked, raising my hands to clap.
She cleared her throat and replied while nodding.
"Yeah."
**CLAP.**
"Ah—!"
Angie's first reaction sounded stiff and completely unconvincing.
I couldn't help letting out a small chuckle.
When she saw me laughing, she gave a shy smile too, wiping the remaining tears from the corner of her eyes.
The tension in the room eased a little.
**CLAP.**
"Ahh…"
Still awkward, but slightly better.
We kept up the act.
After the third clap, Angie spoke quietly.
"Did you feel sorry for me… that's why you're doing this?"
Her question caught me off guard.
I thought about it for a second, then answered honestly.
"Yeah."
Angie blinked.
"Oh."
She looked down at the floor for a moment before speaking again.
"…Thanks for doing this."
After that, the room fell quiet again.
Only the sound of my hands clapping echoed through the empty lab.
**CLAP.**
"Ah—!"
Five more claps later, the silence started feeling awkward.
"So… why didn't you do the homework?" I asked, mostly because I couldn't think of anything else to say.
Even though we had technically been classmates for a year before, I realized I didn't actually know anything about her.
Angie looked a little surprised by the question.
"Um… things aren't very good at home," she said.
That answer was surprisingly honest.
"You're pretty honest," I said, voicing my thoughts.
She gave a small shrug.
"Well… you answered pretty honestly earlier. So I thought I should too."
I thought about it a little. I have been pretty straightforward since I have travelled back in time. Kind of ironic.
"So… what's wrong at home?" I asked carefully.
She had already brought it up, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask.
"My mom's in jail because she killed my dad." she said plainly.
I froze.
Yeah.
That definitely wasn't the kind of answer I was expecting.
"You weren't expecting that," Angie said, almost perfectly voicing what I was thinking.
I slowly shook my head.
No. I definitely wasn't.
"Sorry for suddenly dumping that on you," she added quietly.
We had stopped our little act during the conversation, so I clapped my hands again to keep it going.
**CLAP.**
"Ah—"
As she pretended to react, my mind kept wandering.
Man… that's crazy.
I had a classmate whose mom was in jail for murder, and I didn't even know about it. She had been in the same class as me for a whole year.
I really had been a pretty self-absorbed loner back then.
The room fell quiet again after that.
Only the occasional clap broke the awkward silence between us.
"Hm… does anyone else in our class know about this?" I asked.
Angie shook her head.
"What about the teachers? Miss Stevens? Does she know?"
"Only the headmaster," she replied. "Nobody else."
"Maybe you should consider telling a teacher," I suggested. "Especially Miss Stevens. She might not treat you so harshly if she knew."
Angie gave a short chuckle at that.
"She already judges me because I had to repeat a year," she said. "What do you think she'll do if she finds out my mom is in jail?"
Well… she had a point.
Miss Stevens wasn't exactly the understanding type.
"Is that why you failed last year?" I asked.
Angie nodded again.
"If nobody else knows… Why did you tell me?" I asked. "And don't say it's just because I was honest with you."
Angie thought about it for a moment before answering.
"Well… I didn't tell anyone else because I didn't want to be judged," she said. "But I told you because… I don't know. I felt like you wouldn't judge me."
She looked at me for a second and gave a small shrug.
"And I guess I was right. At least… you haven't yet."
"Enough of you asking the questions. My turn," she added.
"Why did you volunteer to hit us? Do you like hitting girls?" she asked, looking at me suspiciously, her brows furrowed.
"I don't like hitting girls—let's make that clear," I said. "I might have enjoyed spanking them a little, but the real reason I volunteered is because I like girls il like their asses, i looking at their panties, and touching also touching their asses." I answered honestly.
"Why?" she asked, still confused by my motivations.
I thought I had made it pretty clear already, but I answered again. "Well… because it gratifies me sexually,"
I used a big word to sound smart.