Chapter 2

1

My daughter, Macy, is in her final year of middle school and is preparing for her high school entrance exams.

Her new teacher, Skylar Reed, is only twenty-three. She's pretty, stylish, and famous online for her "anti-traditional education" brand.

At first, I didn't think much of it. Then, I saw Macy in one of her new videos, where Skylar mockingly called her "Greasy-Haired Girl."

"I expect a reasonable explanation from the school regarding this."

I sat in the Vice Principal's office and pushed my phone across the desk. It showed Skylar's profile, which went by the handle "Sky-High Education."

"I understand that young teachers like to share their lives, but I don't think a teacher should be leading the charge in bullying students with nicknames."

Vice Principal Miller was clearly distracted. He pretended to listen while typing away on his computer, acting like he was swamped with work.

If I hadn't caught the reflection of a Minesweeper game in his glasses, I might have actually believed he was taking notes on my complaint.

"If the school can't handle this properly, I have no problem taking this to the Board of Education."

Hearing that, Miller finally stopped clicking his mouse.

"Alright, look. I'll talk to Ms. Reed about the issues you've raised. But you have to understand, the younger generation is different now. The kids actually enjoy this relaxed environment."

He kept trying to laugh it off.

My patience was wearing thin. Just as I was about to speak again, there was a knock at the door.

"Sir, I heard a parent from my class is here."

Skylar didn't even wait for an answer before walking in.

The moment Miller saw her, his eyes lit up, and he stood up immediately.

"Ms. Reed! You're here. It's nothing major, just a little chat."

He acted incredibly helpful, even pulling out a chair for her.

Skylar was indeed beautiful, just like in her videos. She was thin with pale skin and a trendy bob that made her look full of youthful energy.

"You're Macy's mom, right? I recognize you from the photos she shares on her social media."

She acted like we were old friends.

In the past, I would have been polite. Even if I didn't like a teacher, I'd keep up appearances for the sake of my daughter's school life.

But that didn't mean I would tolerate her calling my daughter "Greasy-Haired Girl" in front of millions of viewers.

I grabbed my bag and gave a cold nod to the Vice Principal and Skylar.

"I've said what I needed to say, Mr. Miller. I hope you'll consider it seriously. Otherwise, I'm happy to spend my time filing a formal report."

I ignored Miller's darkening expression and walked out.

That night, the "Sky-High Education" account updated.

The apology I expected never came.

Instead, the video showed Skylar visiting the girls' dorm at night with bags of Starbucks.

The first half was "fun," showing her joking around with the boys in their lounge. But then, she took the leftover drinks to the girls.

In the video, Macy and her friends were in their pajamas, their hair wrapped in towels after their showers. They looked awkward and tried to hide from the camera.

I noticed a girl in the background washing her delicates. It was Lily, Macy's desk mate. She looked uncomfortable, her damp pajamas clinging to her skin as she tried to shield herself.

Skylar seemed oblivious to their discomfort and kept talking loudly to the camera.

"Oh, look! Macy finally washed her hair! You're not 'Greasy-Haired Girl' today!"

"And Lily, why are you still doing laundry this late? The boys are already heading to bed. You're just as messy as your best friend. I should call you 'Laundry Girl' from now on."

The video hit ten thousand likes almost instantly. The top comment read:

"Greasy-Haired Girl and Laundry Girl, LMAO!"

It was clear the Vice Principal hadn't passed on my message.

Or maybe he had, and she simply didn't care.

Seeing the humiliated looks on the faces of my daughter and her friends made my heart ache.

At their age, teachers and parents are seen as absolute authorities. Being shamed by one is devastating.