Chapter Text
Aziraphale slowly opened her eyes as the sunlight hit her face. Sitting up in her bed, yawning lazily she gazed at her nightstand clock. 7:47 it read. She continued to enjoy the sun before something struck her. Wait, 7:47? Class started at 8:00! She was going to be late, and trust me Aziraphale was never late.
She hopped out of bed and rushed around the room. Grabbing her tartan skirt, tights, blouse and the other clothing items she usually wore. Luckily there wasn’t much to do with her hair because of it’s short length. Quickly she grabbed an apple from the kitchen before pulling her bag over her shoulder. Before she ran out the door.
Meanwhile Antonia Crowley was dozing off during class because she was so extremely bored. The school day had barely started and she was already dozing off. She rested her head on the school bench, closing her eyes. Soon being awoken by her teacher tapping her on the shoulder with a ruler.
“Had a nice rest Mrs. Crowley?”, her teacher, Mrs. Micheal asked her sternly.
“I slept quite well actually, thank you for asking”, Crowley replied grinning, earning a few giggles from her classmates.
Her teacher sighed as she wrote a note and gave it to her. “Principal's office after school"
Crowley didn't even bother to hide the fact that she was rolling her eyes.
Aziraphale suddenly burst through the door, apologizing frantically for being late. Mrs. Micheal, who was quite fond of Aziraphale, told her it was no worries and asked her to take a seat. The blonde scurried over to her seat. Crowley watched her with a bored gaze.
This was going to be a long day.
-
The school bell rang and the day was finally over. Crowley's friends asked her if she wanted to tag along to the shops. But she had to politely decline their offer, knowing that she had to spend the majority of her afternoon in the principal's office. She walked towards the office with dread. As she opened the door she internally groaned loudly.
Why did Mrs. Micheal have to give her detention for every little thing? It could even be for the itty bittiest of things. Like her skirt being ‘too short’ and how it was ‘distracting’ to other students. How could a skirt be distracting? And why did the school pay so much attention to that in the first place?
The principal greeted her and she mumbled in response. Sitting down and slouching in her seat. The hours in the principal's office were so painfully slow, and being accompanied by her principal certainly didn’t make it any better.
"So how's school going Antonia?” he asked, trying to smile.
She tried her absolute hardest to not roll her eyes at the small talk. “It’s fine”
The principal pulled a piece of paper out of a drawer. “I see here that your grades aren’t great, which means your possibilities of getting into a good university is quite low”, he continued.
‘Oh fuck me’ she thought. This was not a discussion she wanted to have now. Crowley shrugged at his statement and glanced out the window.
“I think getting you a tutor would probably be beneficial for your grades”, he kept going.
“No thanks”, The thought of spending time outside of school with some prissy straight A student trying to ‘help’ her study made her want to vomit.
But the principal was determined to get her a tutor.
So the detention hour ended with Crowley getting signed up for a tutor, and she was not pleased.
‘Could this day possibly get any worse?' she thought while she walked out the school gates. She could just not go to the session, but the principal had threatened with a whole week of detention if she didn’t go. And she was not ready to go through all that trouble for just an hour of tutoring so she had caved in.
-
Aziraphale walked into the school grounds. Precisely on time, like she usually was (yesterday had been an exception). Walking into the classroom she sat down, taking out her things. She still had a couple of minutes before class started so she pulled out her book to catch up on some reading.
Mrs. Uriel approached her “The principal wanted me to inform you that you will be tutoring a girl named Antonia this afternoon in the library, she’s supposedly in your grade”, Uriel spoke in her monotone voice.
Aziraphale looked up from her book “Oh alright”
Antonia was a familiar name, she just couldn’t put her finger on where she had heard it before. ‘Wasn’t that the girl who got sent to the principal's office yesterday? ’ , Aziraphale pondered.
Soon the bell rang and class started.
-
Crowley walked lazily to the library. As if the bag she had slouched over her shoulder weighed her down. She was not looking forward to this, and she could probably list 10 other things right on the spot that she would rather do; if you had asked her. But she didn’t really have a choice so off to the library she went.
She looked around the library for the girl who was going to help her study. Not having a super clear description of what she looked like she had to just guess. A curvy girl with white short curly hair sitting in a corner of the library caught her eye. She had her eyes fixated on a book in front of her.
Compared to everyone else in the library, she looked most like she could tutor other students. Crowley decided to approach her.
“You the one who’s supposed to help me I suppose?”,Crowley gazed her up and down.
She looked up from her book, realizing that the red headed girl was speaking to her. “Oh yes, I suppose I am. Antonia, yes?”
Crowley slung her legs over the nearest chair. Sitting quite wide legged. “Only my mother calls me Antonia. Everyone else calls me Crowley”
Aziraphale gave her a weird glance. Being a bit taken back by her unladylike posture and how Crowley isn’t a very fitting name for a young lady. But deciding to ignore it she pulled out a couple of books.
“Is there anything you would like to start with?”, she asked politely. Crowley shrugged, clearly unitrested.
“I dunno, my grades are quite shit in everything”
“Is there anything you find particularly difficult?”, Aziraphale pushed the question further. Wanting to get a clearer answer from the girl.
“English maybe”, she fiddled with the chipped black polish that coated her nails. Aziraphale was clearly becoming annoyed at ‘Crowleys’ uninterest in this. She was trying to help her for god's sake!
“Well what in english then?”, she spat, the annoyance a little too in her voice.
Crowley grinned at this, knowing she had got to the blonde atleast a little bit.
The blonde’s face flushed a pink color. She mumbled something and looked down in her lap in embarrassment.
The redhead pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
“You’re good, don’t worry about it”, she carefully lit the cigarette taking a long drag from it.
She offered the packet to Aziraphale. “Want one?”
Aziraphale stared at her. Smoking was nothing you did in her family, she didn’t even want to know what would happen if they found out she tried a cigarette. Nonetheless what god would think of her.
She shook her head hesitantly. Crowley shrugged and took another drag. “Suit yourself”, she blew out the smoke.
They sat there in silence. Aziraphale watched Crowley take a couple of drags from the cigarette.
“Aren’t you the girl who was late yesterday?”, Crowley asked her causally. The blonde blushed, she didn't think anyone had really paid any notice of her being late.
“Well yes, I was, but usually I’m never late”, Aziraphale couldn't imagine what her family would think if she was late to her classes all the time.
Crowley glanced at her “I didn’t quite catch your name, wasn’t it something like Azirapala?”
“Aziraphale.”, she corrected her.
Crowley mumbled a small ‘ah’, nodding at the newly acquired information. They continued sitting in silence. Aziraphale picked up her book again. The hour had soon passed and both Crowley and Aziraphale packed up their things. Walking towards the school gate next to each other.
“Do I see you tomorrow?”
“Hm?”Aziraphale was surprised by the question.
“Do we meet tomorrow again or not”, Crowley repeated her question again slightly annoyed.
“I mean if you’d like”
“Alright, i’ll see you tomorrow then”
But before Aziraphale had time to answer she had already walked off. She looked as she walked further down the road, finally disappearing behind a street corner.