Sweet Nothing(14)
“Okay!” I say brightly. “This concludes the getting to know you portion of the morning.” I reach for the iPad that was sitting in my box yesterday when I got back to campus. Each faculty member had one. A gift from an anonymous donor, apparently. “Let’s take roll so we can get started.”
Somehow I manage to fumble my way through a few introductory concepts and to assign the students to groups for their semester project. Eventually, they settle down and take notes, most on iPads and razor-thin silver laptops. Every so often, I have to stop myself from looking around the room for a hidden camera. It’s like this place, these kids… they’re not real. They almost look airbrushed, the girls glossy-lipped and tanned, the boys with chiseled jaws and perfect smiles. Even the kids at my Upper East Side private school didn’t look this good. There has to be something in the water.
When the bell rings, I’m relieved. One period down, four more to go. I’m not sure I’ll make it.
“Thanks, guys,” I call to no one as the students check their cell phones and slip their laptops into designer bags. “And remember, things can only get better from here.” I’m sure they can smell my desperation like dogs. Purebred dogs.
“Hey, Mr. Poulos.” Martha, a slight girl who looks like Selena Gomez’s doppelganger, bats thick dark lashes at the door.
I whirl around to see Luke, smiling in the doorway. He’s holding two large coffees. He looks sickeningly good in jeans and a paint-splattered button-down.
“Hey, Martha,” Luke says, without taking his eyes off me. “You guys take good care of Ms. Sloane on her first day?”
“She’ll be fine.” Vi shoots me a pitying glance. “Probably.”
The floppy-haired kid (also known as Hayden Santiago, I learned during roll call) grumbles something under his breath and shoves his way past Luke. Luke looks at me questioningly, and I shake my head.
“Don’t ask.”
“Okay. Everybody to homeroom. Go on.” Luke waits as the rest of the class shuffles out. Then he closes the door and offers me one of the coffees. “You look—” His eyes fall to the outline of the black lace beneath my blouse. A shiver trickles down my spine.
“Choose your words carefully,” I say, too loudly. “I’ve got a stiletto and I’m not afraid to use it.”
“Sounds dangerous,” he grins. “I was gonna say… gorgeous. Also, totally fried.”
“Is it that obvious?” I sip my coffee, grateful to have something to distract me from Luke’s words. “God, this is good.”
“Here.” He pulls out my desk chair and guides me into it. “Everybody starts out a little rough. My first day was pure hell. I—”
The phone on my desk emits a shrill beep. I reach for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Sloane?” The voice on the other end is female, and older. “Pam Guttierez.”
Where have I heard that name before? “Oh. Yes. Um, hi.”
“From Dr. Goodwin’s office.” Irritation pricks at her voice.
“Of course. I’m sorry. What can I do for you?”
“Dr. Goodwin would like a word with you, as soon as you’re available.”
My stomach bottoms out. I mouth Dr. Goodwin to Luke. He gives me a yikes face, which is less than reassuring.
“Ms. Sloane?”
“Yes. Yes. I’m here. It’s just… let’s see, when am I free, I—”
“Fourth period, according to your schedule.”
“Okay, then. I’ll be there. Could you tell me how to get to—”
“Very good. See you fourth.”
Click.
“Everything okay?” Luke asks.
“I think I just got called to the Head of School’s office on the first day.” I can’t decide whether to laugh or cry. “Am I getting fired? I’m getting fired. I’ve taught one period of one class, and I’m totally getting fired.”
“You’re not getting fired,” Luke says gently. My door flies open and a herd of students spills inside.
“Out,” Luke says sternly. “You can wait in the hall until we’re finished.”
The herd retreats with a few grumbles and protests. I take a few more gulps of coffee to wash down the fear boulder in my throat.
“He probably just wants to check in on you.” Luke starts to reach for my arm, then decides against it. I feel a ping of disappointment.
“Right. I’m sure you’re right. Okay. I can do this.” I stand up, faking fresh determination.
“Atta girl.” Luke heads for the door, then stops. “Oh. I almost forgot. I came by to apologize for sketching out on you yesterday. And to give you this.” He drops a sealed gold envelope on my desk.