Making The Grade

"How could this have happened?" Lucy asked morosely, burying her head in her hands as she stared down at 'C-minus scrawled across her essay paper. "I studied and studied, I was up until two in the morning going over the papers from previous years."

"Hey, it happens to the best of us," Marissa consoled her, tossing her heavy wool cheerleading sweater into the laundry pile at the center of the locker room, leaving it with the mass of blue and white uniforms left behind by the others. "Hey, it's better than anything I've ever gotten in Mr Sheridan's chemistry class, I still think that old bastard has it out for me. Don't know why."

"Maybe because you flooded the class with poison gas?" Lucy said, staring at the grade as though it would disappear, to be replaced with the one she felt she had truly earned.

"It's not my fault if the geezer can't keep his eyes off my breasts whenever he's walking around the classroom," Marissa tightened the warm white towel around her body, cupping her bust as she stared at her reflection in her locker's in-built mirror. "If he was watching me properly, then he would have caught me before I started pouring random chemicals into the beaker. Maybe by virtue of being associated with me he decided to deliberately tank your results?"

"Not all teachers are out to get you," Lucy crossed her toned legs and numbly swept a brush through her glossy chestnut hair.

The eighteen year olds's hazel eyes scanned the paper, locking onto every correction that had been scratched across her essay with harsh red ink, despising every callous question mark and line carved through entire sentences. It was by far the most scathing set of corrections she had received in her entire high school career, especially for someone who was used to seeing an 'A' on every piece of work that was handed back to her. For anyone else, it wouldn't have been cause for concern, simply a minor slip up among a near flawless record. But for someone striving for excellence and a place at an Ivy league college, it was a devastating blow.

"Some of them are. "Well, the coach is, but that's for an entirely different reason," Marissa smirked knowingly, recalling her attempts to draw the attention of the coach of the school's football team during practice, making her performance on the field a little more provocative than usual. She hoped the memory of the burly man's flustered face would have put a smile on her best friend's face, shaking her head when Lucy appeared incapable of tearing her eyes away from her paper. "Look, it really isn't that bad. Hell, it's better than anything I've ever gotten in chemistry, you're pushing yourself too hard."

"I don't have a choice," Lucy sighed, finally letting the paper drift from her hand down to the tiled floor, resting her head back against her locker door. "The likes of Yale and Harvard don't let just anyone enroll, they only take the best of the best. Every grade counts, anything less than perfect makes it easy for them to strike your name off the list. A 'C' is the difference between the Ivy League and regional college."

"Good, maybe we can apply to the same place," Marissa flashed a cheeky grin, laughing when Lucy rolled her eyes with a sparkle of amusement. "I'm just kidding. Besides, maybe a lesser college might not be such a bad thing, it could give you a chance to switch off that brain of yours and live in the moment."

"Marissa, my parents are both Ivy League graduates, have spent tens of thousands of dollars on private school fees, and have spent God knows how much more on private tutors over the years. There's no way they would accept it if their daughter didn't even get past the application process for at least one of the big colleges," Lucy finally decided to get changed, dropping her towel to reveal her Victoria's Secret matching white lace thong and bra. She opened her locker and pulled out her neatly folded up St. Margo's uniform.

"My parents have wasted thousands sending me here, we're not even Catholic. But knowing my dad he'll just slip the dean of a semi-prestigious college some cash as a 'donation' to get me in. My brother Simon is the wunderkind of the family, he'll be off to college before he can drive," Marissa pulled on her blouse, leaving the top few buttons undone, a trademark of hers. "Look, if you're really that desperate to rectify the problem, you can always just change it."

"How? Mr. Sheridan logs the grades onto the school's internal system. It's not the 90s anymore, you can't just use a pen to forge a better grade," Lucy sat down and extended her legs, drawing a pair of plain black knee socks along them, highlighting every wondrous detail of her athletic legs. "Besides, I couldn't do it if it was even possible. It's cheating."

"No shit," Marissa scoffed fondly, never ceasing to be amazed by her friend's level of honesty, even when it directly put her at a disadvantage. "Sometimes I wonder if you've ever told a lie in your entire life. It's like you said, the top colleges are some of the most competitive places in the country. If you want to get in, then you've got to fight dirty. That's what everyone else is doing."

"Easy for you to say, you've got most of the boys in this place wrapped around your little finger. I'm not as devious as you," Lucy shared a brief grin with her golden-haired friend, knowing it was meant as compliment to Marissa's uncanny ability to always get her way in the end.

"So it's lucky you've got me, I'm packing enough deviousness for the both of us. Listen, Simon may be an annoying know-it-all, but he occasionally has his uses. Nobody knows computers better than him, so if you can give me Mr Sheridan's username and password for the school's net, I can get him to change the grade," Marissa said, making herself look presentable, even with the regulation breaking modifications to her uniform. "And with all the tests going on at the moment, Sheridan won't have time to notice the change, it's a win-win."

"I thought Simon was banned from using the internet after he crashed his own school's net trying to bypass the search restrictions?" Lucy asked.

"He is, for about a month. But if someone 'accidentally' slipped him a phone," Marissa whipped out her brand new iPhone, tapping the screen with her acrylic nail, "he'd be able to get in and out within minutes. And just like that, Lucy Meyers will be off to the college of her dreams. Maybe she'll meet a future doctor or lawyer? Then they'll start a family, buy a big house, and then- "

"I get it," Lucy laughed for the first time since laying eyes on her essay paper. "Meet a nice man, settle down, white picket fences, the works. But none of it matters. I don't know Mr Sheridan's login details, and even if he keeps them written down they'll probably be somewhere in his office."

"And he keeps that room locked up tighter than Fort Knox," Marissa paced for a minute, tapping a finger against her lips as she became lost in thought. Eventually, she stopped in front of Lucy, clearly hesitant to voice her one and only solution. "There's one way to get in there, but I think you would much rather just stick with the 'C'."

"Not an option," Lucy stared back at Marissa, preparing herself for whatever she had to say. "I'm a big girl, Marissa. At least tell me what it is, maybe I'll be open to it."

"Alright. Just like the rest of the rooms in the school, Mr Sheridan's office door has a universal lock, it has to be accessible in case of an emergency. Every teacher has their own key, but they all keep it with them at all times, and they're not going to hand it over to a student for any reason. But there is one person who has access to the skeleton key." Marissa paused, leaning back against the lockers, "Mr Barker."

"The janitor? He's not going to risk his job to help me out."

Lucy shuddered at the thought of the school's aged janitor, Mr Barker. He had been present at the school for about as long as anyone could remember, with Lucy's parents also having not so fond memories of him when they both attended St Margo's. He was a man just shy of his seventies, far past the point of proper retirement, with a stocky build highly unsuited for the task of lugging cleaning equipment around such a large facility. But he didn't do it out of a sense of duty or because he felt a connection to the old establishment, it wasn't a secret that his reason for staying was purely to satisfy his own selfish needs, mainly because he it gave him the unhindered opportunity to leer at the beauties of St Margo's.

"Not out of the kindness of his heart," Marissa nodded, still hesitant to go any further. But seeing the look of determination on Lucy's face, one that meant the brunette wouldn't be deterred until she had at least heard the idea. "But he would probably help you, as long as you give him an... incentive."

"Incentive?" it was a simple enough word, but Marissa's tone when she uttered it sent an uncomfortable shiver across her spine. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Lucy. I know I call you a prude from time to time, usually because you are, but you're not completely naive," Marissa tried to broach the subject as delicately as she could. "He's a vile slob of a man, and he's unioned up enough to make him untouchable. So if you want that key, you're going to have to be a little nicer than usual to him, if you catch my meaning."

"Oh," was all Lucy could muster up in response, feeling the weight of Marissa's words hit her line a ton of bricks.

"See what I mean? It's a non-starter," Marissa threaded her tie and shouldered her bright pink backpack, opening up the home screen on her phone. "We've missed the first bus, but if we make a run for it we might catch the next one. Let's go."

"What if I did it?" Lucy uttered in a voice just above a breath, regretting voicing the question from the moment it left her sculpted lips.

"Pardon?" Marissa turned, convinced that she had misheard her almost unnaturally virtuous friend. "What did you say?"

"I said... what if I did it? What if I gave him what he wanted?" Lucy bit her lip, barely able to bring herself to lock eyes with her friend, ignoring the sense of shame that came with such a question.

"Then I'd say you weren't thinking straight," Marissa said, with all thoughts of catching the bus home forgotten. "That's the sort of thing I would say, not you."

"I know," Lucy sighed, tightly clasping the edge of the bench she sat upon. "And under ordinary circumstances I wouldn't even let the thought of doing such a thing cross my mind. But right now, I don't have a choice."

"Are you sure you can do this?" Marissa asked sceptically, dropping her bag back to the floor. "I don't think I've ever seen you so much as flirting with someone our own age, never mind someone who's pushing seventy. If you actually go ahead with it, what's stopping you from regretting it afterwards?"

"I don't doubt that I will live to regret it, but it will be a necessary stepping stone towards getting where I need to be," Lucy stared up at Marissa, forcing her lips to form a calm smile to put her best friend at ease. "One way or another, this is going to happen. Will you help me? I'm not exactly experienced in the whole art of seduction thing."

"Firstly, don't call it 'the art of seduction', it makes you sound like a nineteenth century debutant. Second, of course I'll help," Marissa grinned, pulling Lucy to her feet.

She spent almost half an hour imparting every bit of knowledge she had on the topic of using sex to get what she wanted. Not wanting Lucy to go unprepared, Marissa held nothing back, partially wondering if a more blunt approach would give her brunette friend the scare she needed to reconsider. However, nothing Marissa could say or do could sway Lucy from the path she had chosen, leaving the blonde feeling personally responsible for prepping her friend for every possibility.

With most of the school's occupants on their way home, the building was left mostly empty aside from a handful of teachers who were busy putting together lesson plans for the following day, leaving Lucy and Marissa almost completely alone, a fact Marissa intended to take full advantage of. She made a number of modifications to Lucy's uniform, including the loosening of the top buttons of her blouse to reveal her cleavage, removing her tie to pop her collar open, and raising her skirt so the hem could sit higher along her thighs and show off her long legs. Marissa used her personal make-up kit to accentuate Lucy's natural features, using a roll of burgundy lipstick to make her kissable lips all the more enticing.

"You look good so far, but it still needs a few more touches," Marissa let her blue eyes roam across Lucy's body, assessing what could be done to give the brunette the spark she needed to make sure the old janitor would pounce just at the sight of her. Once it came to her, Marissa snapped her fingers and pointed back at the bench. "I've got it. Sit down and get those knee socks off."

"Alright," Lucy complied and slipped her sensible Tory Burch flats off, lifting her legs skyward to draw her ivory socks away. "Are you sure this will work? What if he turns me down?"

"Believe me, there isn't a red-blooded man in this place who wouldn't jump you if they had the chance, you're one of the hottest girls at St Margo's. Besides me, of course," Marissa winked, diving into her locker once she had it open, rustling around under she located what she needed. "Aha, I knew I left them in here!"

"Left what?" Lucy leaned over to try and sneak a glance at what Marissa had discovered.

"My secret weapons," Lucy kicked her locker shut and twisted around, revealing a packet of fresh stockings in one hand and a pair of black Jimmy Choo six-inch peep-toe stilettos in the other.

"Marissa, you can't be serious?" Lucy watched Marissa's voluminous blonde hair bounce as she nodded eagerly in response, tearing the cardboard apart to get at the nylons within. "I can't wear those here! What if someone sees me?"

"Someone will see you. You know, grossly unfit, late sixties, never wears anything other than grubby blue overalls? Ring any bells?" Marissa crouched down and set the heels in front of Lucy, wasting no time in helping to roll the dark stockings along Lucy's legs. "Trust me, no-one else will see you, there's probably only a dozen people still here. Now, these stockings are going to make you irresistible, plus they're self-suspending."

"Why do you even have these in your locker?" Lucy inquired, surprised by how good the material felt against her skin.

"These, my innocent friend, are called 'fuck-me' heels, and I think even you can understand what the name implies. You're not the only one who uses feminine persuasion to boost a grade," Marissa flashed a toothy smile, snapping the floral top of one of the stockings against Lucy's thigh. Satisfied, she helped to ease Lucy's dainty feet into the heels, fastening the thin leather straps around her ankles. "Look at that, they fit perfectly. Try them out, we don't want you spraining an ankle before you've gotten started."

Marissa helped Lucy to her feet, holding her hand as she took a few tentative steps along the length of the locker room. It took a few laps before Lucy felt comfortable enough to walk on her own, unfamiliar with any heels that went any higher than four-inches. Having been convinced that she would eventually fall flat on her face, Lucy instead discovered a gait that allowed her to swing one foot in front of the other effortlessly, able to balance perfectly on the pencil-thin heels.

"You're a natural," Marissa clapped, impressed when the brunette managed a sudden turn that caused her skirt to whip around.

"Maybe I am," Lucy used a misty mirror to check herself out, genuinely admiring the reflection she was met with. "If this is what you've got hidden away in a locker, then I'm curious about what else you've got tucked away."

"Put it this way, if my dad ever found out about half the stuff I've got squirreled away in my bedroom he'd ship me off to the furthest corners of Alaska. Well, that should be everything. Ready to head off?" Marissa asked gently, noticing when fear flickered on Lucy's face once again, yet not as prominently as it had previously.

"No time like the present," Lucy exhaled, terrified as she followed Marissa out of the locker room and into the unknown.

~•~•~•~•~•~

"Let me check if the coast is clear."

Marissa leaned her head around the corner, making sure the corridor was completely vacant of life. Reassured by the eerie silence, her eyes darted towards the old wooden door located halfway down the corridor, checking to see whether its owner had decided to clock off early. Both fortunately and unfortunately for Lucy, Marissa could spot a sliver of yellow light seeping through the gap between the door and the vinyl floor, occasionally blocked by the shadow of the man within. Knowing that it was now or never, Marissa twisted and gave Lucy a small nod.

"He's in there. And from the looks of things, we're the only three people in the whole of the eastern wing, so there's no chance of anyone disturbing you when you're with him... doing the deed," Marissa confirmed, searching for any hesitation in her friend. "Alternatively, we could turn back now and head back to the locker room. Nobody knows we're here, so you're not obligated to go ahead with this. Maybe we can come up with a different plan?"

"Such as?" Lucy asked, shifting her feet awkwardly, still not familiarised with the heels altering her posture to an uncomfortable degree. Her fingers idly played with the tops of her new stockings, but it did little to distract from the situation at hand. "We've already been over this, there's no other way of getting into the office."

"I don't know. I've got a really heavy history textbook that I've been looking to get rid of, I could always use it to break the glass window on Mr Sheridan's office door," Marissa suggested, but a semi-amused look on Lucy's face was enough to inform her that the foolhardy plot was a non-starter.

"The whole point of this was to avoid raising suspicion," Lucy said, grateful for her friend's attempt to get her out of a situation she dearly wished she didn't find herself in. "But I appreciate the thought, even if it would have alerted the police."

"And I suppose my textbook being amongst the shards of glass would make it too easy for them to find out that I did it," Marissa muttered, noticing the fatal flaw in her plan. With a resigned sigh, she stared at her friend sympathetically, accepting that there was no way out of the course Lucy had set for herself. "So you're going ahead with it?"

"Looks like it," Lucy stated meekly.

"Who knows, maybe the old man knows how to fuck? Then again, he might be so excited by the idea of getting to bed someone like you that he might finish prematurely," Marissa grinned, doing her best to lighten the mood in her own heavy handed way. Reaching out, she plucked at Lucy's hair and fluffed it out to add some extra volume. "It sounds weird, but guys really go for the 'freshly fucked' look. Before you go, do you remember everything I taught you?"

"Almost everything," Lucy confirmed, clutching her skirt until her knuckles became white as chalk dust. "Sway my hips, act as flirtatious as possible, and make him feel like the most important man on Earth."

"Close enough. One more thing," Marissa opened up her bag and whipped out a square foil, making sure that Lucy accepted it before taking off. "Trust me, you're going to need this. That geezer won't hesitate to shoot you full of his stuff if he had the chance, and the very last thing you need is to leave that cleaning closet with anything other than just a key. Understand?"

"Yeah," Lucy held the foil between her fingers, feeling as if she had taken a gut punch when Marissa explained why it was mandatory. "I can't believe that I almost went in there without protection."