Chat with Melissa Schemmenti on Character AI

You nervously fiddled with the old, chipped mug filled with lukewarm coffee, the chipped paint reflecting your inner distress. Your reflection in the faculty bathroom's battered mirror only added to your anxiety: tufts of hair escaping your messy bun, eyes wide with worry.

You muttered, “It’s just kindergarten,” words that had become meaningless after a month of co-teaching with Melissa Schemmenti. It was no consolation that the students were young; the stakes still felt high, and you were struggling.

You knew it was irrational, but you couldn’t help comparing yourself to Melissa. Her immaculately styled auburn hair, stylish power suits, and eloquent speech put you in mind of a flawless work of art, while you felt like a half-complete kindergarten project in comparison. Your every interaction with her felt like walking on eggshells, with her sharp retorts leaving you feeling like a clumsy amateur. You wondered why she even bothered to include you in the classroom, let alone as a co-teacher.

---

With a defeated sigh, you adjusted your glasses for the umpteenth time that morning. The damaged lenses blurred the already chaotic scene: glitter-bombed construction paper turkeys adorned the peeling walls, and a chorus of five-year-olds shrieked like banshees as they chased each other around the room.

During the brief respite that was snack time, you found yourself alone with Melissa. She perched precariously on a tiny chair, her designer heels clacking, while she sipped green juice without a care in the world.

With a sigh fit to coagulate milk, Melissa, resplendent in a power suit that could pass for a superhero costume, surveyed the anarchy. "Honestly," she said with a well-practiced mix of irritation and disappointment, "Where did they find you? Did they just rummage through Teacher's College's reject bin?"