"Hello Harley, this is Sarah Goyle from Super Saver calling about your job application."

My ears perked up and I turned my answering machine's volume up a few notches. Hopefully this was a good message.

"We're sorry, but I'm afraid we are looking for someone a little older and more experienced for-"

Scowling, I slammed my finger down on the delete button. That was the fourth store to call and say they were looking for someone older and more experienced. How experienced did you have to be to hit a few stupid buttons on a cash register? I had seen teenagers younger than me working there!

"Pig?"

I swiveled around in my chair, glaring at my brother. "I told you not to..." I trailed off when I noticed the expression on his face. My gaze softened and I stood up, walking towards him.

He sniffled as I approached, rubbing his eyes. I knelt down beside him and put my hands on his little shoulders.

"What's wrong, El?"

"I had a dream about mommy and dad," he relayed to me, sniffling again. "Pig, I want to see them."

"Oh, Elliot," I sighed, gathering him in my arms. "I've told you, you can't see them anymore."

"Because they've gone somewhere better?"

I nodded, rubbing his back soothingly. "Yes, but don't forget they are always watching over you."

"I miss them," he told me, sounding like he was about to cry again.

"I miss them too," I responded, my chest constricting. "But we need to stay strong for them, okay? No more crying, okay?"

Sometimes when Elliot started crying, I ended up crying too, and it was just one big mess. But so far, I had gone two months without crying over my parent's death. Elliot still cried once in awhile, but that was to be expected. My mom had been right; he was too young for this.

I felt Elliot nod against me. I pulled away from him and poked his forehead. He frowned at me for a moment, putting a hand to his forehead.

"I heard you were on fire."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "What? I'm not on fire..."

"Will was talking on the phone and said you got on fire."

Now I was even more confused. "No... I never caught on fire. I don't know what he's talking about. What else did Will say?"

"Your job?" Elliot asked, more than stated.

"Oh!" I said with realization. "He said I was fired to someone on the phone?"

Elliot nodded, his eyes widening fearfully. "So you were on fire?"

I shook my head quickly. "No, no, being fired is different then being on fire."

Elliot looked confused and I sighed. I didn't have the patience to explain everything to him, so I decided to change the subject.

"Forget about it. Are you hungry? You slept in rather late today," I commented, leading him to the kitchen.

"I want eggs," he told me, climbing onto a chair at the table.

"Just eggs?"

"Toast."

"Alright," I responded, walking over to the fridge and opening it.

I searched the fridge until my eyes landed on the egg carton. I pulled it out, along with the milk, setting them on the kitchen table. Elliot watched me as I went to the cupboard and took out a bowl to scramble the eggs in.

"Want to crack an egg?" I asked, seeing the sad look still on his face.

Elliot immediately smiled, nodding his head eagerly. I handed him the egg, and hoped that he wouldn't leave half the eggshell in the bowl like last time. To my surprise, he carefully cracked the egg on the side of the bowl instead of slamming it down like he usually did.

Only one little bit of eggshell fell into the yolk. Elliot grinned at me and I couldn't help but smile back. I ruffled his hair.

"Good job."

I cracked the other three eggs, letting the yolk drop into the bowl. Elliot poured the milk in, and I added a few dashes of paprika. I had Elliot start mixing the eggs as I went to the cabinet and pulled out a frying pan. I put it on the stove and lit it, grabbing the eggs from Elliot and mixing them quickly before pouring them into the pan.

"Pig, you make the best eggs!" Elliot complimented, digging his spoon into his breakfast when it was finished.

"Don't call me Pig," I responded in an exasperated voice. "My name is Harley. Har-ley."

"Pig is Pig!"

I groaned in frustration. There was no getting through to him. Hopefully he would outgrow it in a few years.

I returned my attention back to my eggs and placed a forkful in my mouth, chewing slowly. I had to admit; I was a pretty good cook. Which was probably why I used to work in a bakery.

My thoughts consumed me as I ate, a frown now appearing on my face. I needed to find more places to apply at. A week had already passed since I had been fired, and I was just wasting my time by applying and being told I was too young to be hired.

A knock at my door brought me out of my reverie. I glanced at Elliot, who hadn't seemed to hear it. I slid of my stool, walking to the front door. Hesitating for only a moment, I reached out and pulled open my door.

My jaw dropped when I realized who was standing at my door. He gave me a sheepish grin and held up one of his hands.

"Hey?"

"Uncle Rob!" I cried, flinging myself at my mother's brother. "Wow! It's been so long!"

"Too long," he responded with a chuckle, patting my back. "I see that you are doing well. How is Elliot?"

"Good," I responded, pulling away. "He's in the kitchen eating right now. Come in! What are you even doing here?"

My uncle followed me back inside my house and I shut the door behind him, gesturing for him to follow me to the kitchen.

"Want some toast?" I offered, stepping into the kitchen with him.

"I'm good," he responded, his eyes locking onto Elliot. "Oh, he sure has grown."

Elliot looked up at his uncle, his little eyes nearly bulging out of his sockets. "Rob!" he cried, wiggling out of his chair.

I watched as Elliot came running at my uncle. Rob laughed, scooping up Elliot in his arms.

"How have you been?" he asked Elliot.

"Good!" Elliot responded.

"That's good," my uncle responded, smiling. "I'm glad to hear it."

We made our way back to the kitchen table, where we all took a seat. Elliot began to eat his breakfast again while I focused my attention solely on my uncle. He cleared his throat, pulling at the tie on his neck.

"I heard you were fired from your job."

A sheepish smile appeared on my face and I scratched my head. "Er, yeah..."

"And I've also been told that every place you've been sending applications into has been refusing you?"

"Ah... yes," I muttered, my eyes now downcast. "Apparently I'm too young, and I should be in high school."

My uncle chuckled. "You should be in high school though."

"Will teaches me a lot!" I protested, frowning at him. "You know that! I bet I'm smarter than most seventeen year olds these days."

"You're probably right about that," he responded, a smile crossing his face.

"Yeah, so I don't understand why even Super Saver won't hire me. They hire everyone!"

My uncle frowned, tapping his finger on the table. Elliot copied him almost immediately and I sighed.

"Don't teach him things that will get annoying," I scolded, sending Elliot a warning glare.

Both males stopped immediately, sending each other sheepish grins. I rested my elbow on the table, plopping my chin onto my hand.

"So what did you come here today for?" I asked my uncle, who was fiddling with his fingers.

"To offer you a job."

My ears perked up at that. I watched him curiously to see if he was joking. He returned my look with a serious one. A smile slipped onto my face.

"Are you serious?"

"I want to help you out in any way I can," he told me, running a hand through his hair, "since you refuse to live with me."

"You're a busy man, I don't want to be a hassle," I responded, rolling my eyes. "We've been over this. And I like living like this, believe it or not."

"I know. That's why I'm going to offer you this job. I understand you worked in a bakery at your last job, right?"

I nodded my head. "Yep, why?"

"The job I'm going to offer you has to do with baking," my uncle said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. "A lot of baking."

"Really?" I responded, really intrigued now. "That's awesome! I love baking! What kind of job is it? A bakery again?"

My uncle cleared his throat, looking steadily at the wall, as if it was he was talking to instead of me. "It's actually at a high school."

"Huh?" I responded, frowning the slightest bit. "You mean like, a lunch lady?"

"Not exactly."

I glowered at him, tired of the guessing game. "Rob, just get to the point."

"It's a home economics class," he told me, his eyes looking directly into mine.

Now I was confused. "What would my job be? Helping prepare? Assisting?"

"No," my uncle started, a smirk slipping onto his face. "You'd be the teacher."

I blanked, looking at my uncle like he was crazy. He cleared his throat once again, beginning to tap on the table again. Elliot copied him, giggling to himself.

There was a moment of silence while I tried to gather my thoughts in order to make a coherent sentence. Me? A teacher? At a high school?

"I'm too young," I stated dumbly. Duh I was too young!

"Yes, I know that," my uncle responded with a sigh. "The thing is, this place really needs to find a teacher by the end of the weekend."

"But, how? I'm too young so it wouldn't work out."

"The principal is willing to er, slightly bend the rules..."

"They'd let a seventeen year old work?" I asked dubiously, frowning again.

"No... but they'd let a twenty-one year old work."

I held in a sigh. Why couldn't my uncle be straight to the point instead of confusing me? Unless that was the point, which I highly doubt it was. Was he trying to say I could have the job in four years? But no, that wouldn't make sense if they needed a teacher by the end of the week.

"I'm confused," I finally admitted.

My uncle ran a hand through his hair again. "If you took the job, you would pretend you were a twenty-one year old."

My eyes widened. "But that's... that's lying to society!"

"You need a job, right?" my uncle responded, raising an eyebrow. "They need a teacher and are willing to hire you. And you won't be recorded as twenty-one in the registration, so technically you'd only be lying to some of the faculty and all of the students."

"But..."

"The pay is about seven-hundred a week."

My jaw-dropped and I stared dumbfounded at my uncle. Elliot continued to tap the table with his finger, even though my uncle stopped. My uncle looked at me, his expression still serious.

"I know that's not as much as an average teacher makes," he told me, "but you would be an extra-curricular teacher, so that's as much as they can offer..."

"No," I responded, shaking my head. "No, no, no-"

"But Harley-" my uncle started, a confused look appearing on his face, but I cut him off.

"Wait, I meant no as in that seven hundred dollars is definitely enough," I said, my eyes wide. "That's double what I made at the bakery!"

My uncle relaxed slightly. "So you'll take the job?"

I wanted to scream, "Yes, of course I'll take the job!" but I held myself back. Before I decided, I wanted to make sure I knew exactly what I was getting into. Teaching to bake was a lot different than just baking.

"What exactly do I have to do?" I questioned.

My uncle smiled slightly, his green eyes lighting up. "You'll only have to teach three to four classes a day," he told me. "And maybe lunch duty now and then, maybe detention too."

"And I'm just teaching these students how to cook?"

My uncle nodded. "Pretty much. We dropped the sewing after the last... well, never mind."

I cocked an eyebrow, but didn't question him. Sewing wasn't my thing anyway.

"Pig," Elliot said suddenly, "you're a good cook."

I smiled. "Thanks, Eli."

"You like to cook?"

"I do," I responded, mussing up his hair. "Hence why I cook for you every chance I get when we aren't eating at Will's... though I do cook half the meals there too."

"Then take the job."

I couldn't help but chuckle at my brother's forwardness. I mussed his hair again and he pulled away.

"The school really needs the help," my uncle added. "And like I said, the pay is seven hundred... and you do need the money."

I sighed, biting my bottom lip hesitantly. I didn't understand why I was hesitating though. The job paid well, they needed someone before Friday, and I needed the money. I shouldn't be hesitating! I needed this.

"Tell them I'll take it," I finally told my uncle. "Are you sure they will hire me?"

My uncle grinned at me, his eyes twinkling. "I'm positive they will hire you."

"What school is this exactly?"

My uncle's grin grew wider. "My school."

My eyes widened and I stared at my uncle in shock. His school? His school that was full of delinquents? I just accepted to be a teacher for a high school for delinquents?

My uncle laughed, clearly amused at my expressions. "Well, Harley, welcome to the faculty of Wesley academy!"

__________________________________________________________________

Thank you for all the positive feedback! But let me clear up one thing, this story is is a little different from A Proscriptive Relationship. Harley is going to be the teacher, not her love interest. And yes, the beginning of this story is slow, I'm not going to lie. It probably won't start really picking up until chapter four. But it gets interesting after this chapter.

I'll probably have to drop out of the watty awards too, since it'll be hard to keep this story rated PG. But until that happens, PLEASE! support me by voting, commenting, re-tweeting, and liking :D :D :D ! Thanks!

Oh, and I'm glad so many of you like my character list! I worked hard on that because I can barely name three famous actors since I don't watch T.V. Or see a lot of movies. They're still not exactly how I pictured them (especially Harley) but good enough for now (:

[Today's Song: Dear Angel by April Sixth]