Her ring finger tapped in a non-sensical pattern atop the stack of papers. “Sure. Violet’s one of my best students in that class, though. I doubt she’ll need much help.”
“She’s a good kid—does well in my class also. That’s why I told her I’d help. I’ll have her stop by once she’s finished the essays. Should be later this week.”
Luke turned to walk out the door, but before he could get back to the hallway, Amanda called out.
“Luke?” Her high, clear voice cut through the silence in the classroom like a diamond on glass.
He pivoted on the ball of his foot. “What?”
“The STEM Academy isn’t exactly close to here. Violet’s mother works too many hours to transport her over there. And they can’t afford a car for Violet, even though I know she got her license last spring. Even if she got in to the new school, how will she get there every day?”
The nervousness on her face fell away, replaced with the soft shades of concern. Her lips fell a shade more pale, the freckles muted their orange shine, and the irises of her eyes shifted from mostly green to an overcast gray.
Clearly, Amanda Marsh cared as deeply for the quiet girl from the disadvantaged background as much as Luke himself did. He understood why. The young woman was a dream student: curious, conscientious, and respectful. Not every kid possessed those qualities in combination these days. Most had one or two, but the seasoned teachers around the halls said they wished they could teach one hundred Violet Clarks.
“You know,” Luke said slowly, trying to think of something he could do to change the reality of the situation. “I don’t know, Amanda.”
She raked a hand through her shiny hair and let out a deep breath. “I love the idea of the STEM Academy, but I worry about kids like Violet who would thrive in that environment—but can’t get there. I’m just not sure we’re doing the right thing as a district. Maybe we should have focused on creating programs within the existing schools.”
“I think the STEM Academy is still the right move.” He tried not to be defensive, but he took the STEM Academy personally. He’d been one of the key employees in the district backing this project. If the STEM Academy failed students before even getting off the ground—well, it was like he failed students.
And he didn’t get into teaching to fail his students.
“I’m sure it is. Even this English teacher thinks a place with a higher focus on science and math and those career paths is a great idea. I just worry about the kids like Violet—all of the talent to really benefit from it, but lacking the support and resources to make the transition.”
Luke nodded. He felt like he was reassuring himself as much as the English teacher. “It’ll work.”
THE CUPID CAPER
Chapter Two
No one ever accused Amanda of being a morning person, but the students always expected an A-game from their teachers. So, just as she did every morning, Amanda sipped a Venti latte with an extra shot of espresso that she bought from the designer coffee shop just around the corner from the high school. She didn’t necessarily like pushing a five-dollar-bill through the drive through window every morning, but it made her twitch just a little bit to think about what would happen if she changed her morning routine and didn’t make that stop.
As she straightened up the papers on her side table, a familiar voice called out as Lisa stepped through the doorway to the Globe Theatre and into Amanda’s classroom.
“Good morning, Sunshine!”
Amanda couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. “I left the house before the sun got up this morning and Mr. Pickles smirked at me as he buried back in the blankets.”
“Mr. Pickles is a cat. Of course he smirked. That’s the official facial expression of cats everywhere. He and that Grumpy Cat from the Internet are brothers from another feline mother.”
“That’s the truth.” Amanda couldn’t help but laugh.
The petite drama teacher walked toward her friend with an over-exaggerated sideways step. “Sooooo?”
Amanda waved her hands, mocking her friend’s attempts at stealth. “Sooooo what?”
“So did you think more about doing The Cupid Caper?”
Although she couldn’t exactly put words to a description of the hopeful, crazy smile on Lisa’s face, she could put the exact words to her answer.
“No.”
“You didn’t think about it? So there’s still hope?” Lisa executed a small twirl on the industrial blue carpet.
“No, I didn’t think about it. And no, there’s no hope. The answer is no, for all of it.” Amanda walked over to her computer and pulled up her email. “And the bell’s going to ring in just a bit. Shouldn’t you be heading back to the drama cave?”
“I just think you’re making a mistake, Amanda. Why not have a little fun?”
Amanda placed a hand defiantly on her hip, feeling vaguely like she should start singing the “I’m a little teapot…” song.
“Because there’s nothing fun about embarrassing myself in front of a colleague.”
Lisa wouldn’t back down. Her dogged determination was the antithesis of Mr. Pickles and his lazy sneer earlier today. “For not even four more weeks. Then he’s moving on. And you’ll never have to see him again. And you don’t even work with him now. He’s on the science faculty. They’re on the second floor, in the opposite corner of the building. You see him at monthly staff meetings. Of which we only have one left before he goes off into the wide world of curriculum planning.”
“Lisa, quit it. Really. I just don’t want to. I teach stories about love. I just don’t believe in it much anymore and you know that. Besides, I am working with him on a project.”
“Like what?” Lisa’s tone clearly said she thought Amanda was not being truthful.
“Violet Clark wants to apply to the STEM Academy. He’s helping her with her application and I’m going to look over her essays. Not that she needs help from either of us—she’s the smartest kid I’ve taught in years.”
The slightly puzzled look didn’t fall from Lisa’s face. “How did this come about?”
“He stopped by here yesterday after school to let me know Violet was interested in my help.”
“Luke Baker came by your room yesterday to ask for your help on a project?”
“Yes.” Amanda’s hand returned reflexively to her hip. “What?”
Amanda cocked an eyebrow as her head nodded slowly. “Interesting.”
“No, Lisa. Just part of the job. I’m afraid it’s not going to work, anyway.”
The eyebrow inched even further toward Amanda’s high hairline. “How so?”
“I don’t see how Violet’s going to be able to get to the STEM Academy. She doesn’t have a car and her mother can’t afford one. And her mother already works two jobs as it is. She wouldn’t be able to take Violet across town.” It hurt just thinking about denying an opportunity to a student of Violet’s potential just because of something as simple as a car.
“The Cupid Caper.” Lisa said the words slowly, and with conviction.
“Lisa, for the last time, I said no.”
Lisa shook her head with all the force of a strong gale-force wind. “Not you.”
“Not me? Then who?” Amanda couldn’t tell what her friend was getting at. She’d heard a lot of hare-brained things come out of Lisa’s mouth. She could usually keep up with her best friend’s tangents—a second-hand, common language was part of being a best friend, after all—but this time, Amanda was baffled.
“Violet.” Lisa said the name matter-of-factly, as though it should have been obvious.
“Violet? In The Cupid Caper? Why?”
Lisa’s face lifted into a wide grin. “Don’t you remember? Kittrick Motors donated a one-year car lease as the grand prize.”
Amanda had actually forgotten all about any of the prizes. She turned over the Student Council sponsor reins at the end of the last school year, so she honestly hadn’t kept up with the ins-and-outs of The Cupid Caper
, which served as the Student Council’s main fundraiser for the spring semester.
“That’s great, Lisa, but it still doesn’t solve the problem. Violet’s mom is pretty strict. I doubt she lets her even go to the Valentine’s dance. And where is Violet going to get the money to pay the taxes on the prize?”
“The lease was donated to the school. The Student Council is a non-profit. The dealership takes the deduction.”
The skepticism wouldn’t leave the pit of Amanda’s stomach. If, somehow, there was a way for Violet to win the use of that car for a year, that would indeed solve the problem. But there was no way to count on her winning the grand prize. Especially if Violet’s mother wouldn’t let her have anything to do with The Cupid Caper or the Valentine’s dance.
“Ok. But we can’t exactly rig the drawing for Violet to win. It’s all chance.” Amanda could feel the disappointment coming through in her voice.
“Not this year, it’s not.” Lisa’s smile got even more profound. “You haven’t been paying attention. This year, it’s not a raffle drawing. The students are going to vote for a winner based on the couples who complete The Cupid Caper challenge. The Student Council picks the finalists, then the students have a vote at the dance.”
“But I told you, I don’t see any way Violet’s mom lets her participate. And I don’t even think Violet is interested in any boys to ask to the dance anyway.”
The first bell rang, the tinny sound reverberating through the cheap speaker in the ceiling.
Lisa gave another wobbly pirouette, then headed for the door. “We’re covering Method Acting today in my Intro to Drama Class.”
“And?” Amanda had lost count of the number of Lisa’s rabbit trails this morning. She couldn’t keep up with her crazy friend’s mental wanderings.
“Fake it until you make it, honey. There’s always a way.”
Lisa disappeared out the doorway, but Amanda shouted behind her. “I don’t get it.”
“You will, my dear. You will.”
Somewhere in Lisa’s world, that was probably meant to be reassuring. But Amanda knew it would just leave her trying to figure out riddles all day.
The day seemed to drag on, long past the normal length of a school day. Luke could feel the minutes on the clock weighing him down. He honestly hadn’t felt this way in three years, since that bitter January he decided he was leaving his lab at Global Health and not looking back. Today, he supposed the crawling passage of time indicated a change just around the corner.
The honest truth simply came down to this: now that Luke knew the curriculum lead job was his, he couldn’t wait to get started. He loved his kids here at Port Provident and would miss teaching them greatly—hopefully some, like Violet Clark, would be in his classes at the STEM Academy—but he felt energized by the challenge ahead and couldn’t wait to get started.
Getting kids interested in the sciences, technology, and mathematics excited him. He knew first-hand the importance of having the right teachers and the right lessons to spark that interest and make that life-long connection.
It spoke to his sense of adventure to be that guide for young minds. He liked ziplining through the Brazilian rainforest and SCUBA diving off the Great Barrier Reef, but he knew that kind of experience couldn’t be had every day.
Watching the fire in a teenager’s eyes as they connected with something life changing? It’s why he changed his career path to teaching.
He’d been to every continent—even Antarctica—but no check on the bucket list, no rush of adrenaline came close to serving as a student’s mentor.
“Hey Dr. B.” Kinley McDonald walked through the open door. Sixth period was his conference time, so the usual low-pitched hum of the chemistry lab was silent for twenty-five more minutes.
“Kinley, what’s up?” Luke swiveled the tall blue chair behind his lecture stand-level desk toward the girl.
“I’m just delivering envelopes for The Cupid Caper.” She held out a brown basket stuffed with red and white notes.
The Cupid Caper. One of the silliest traditions of the year at Port Provident High. Students would pay an entry fee to the Student Council, then go chasing after their secret crush. There would be riddles, miniature scavenger hunts, and gifts. In the end, if you guessed your suitor, you got special recognition at the Valentine’s Day dance and were eligible to win some big prize.
All in all, it made Luke very glad to be past his own teenage years. He’d attended most of the dances at his alma mater, but he generally preferred the route of just asking the girl out directly.
He liked a good adventure, but romantic espionage wasn’t Luke’s thing.
“That time of year again, huh?” Luke tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Do you need my help with something?”
“Nope.” Kinley’s ponytail bobbed and swayed as she shook her head. “I’ve got one for you.”
She dug in the basket, pulled out a red envelope, and held out her hand.
“You what?”
Luke could feel a smattering of wetness on his lips. He’d definitely sputtered out his response. Great. That was just about as undignified as The Cupid Caper itself.
“Congrats there Dr. B. You’re the first teacher I’ve ever seen get picked. Well, except for Mr. and Mrs. Wallace.” Kinley waggled the envelope in front of her teacher, imploring him to take it. “Oh, and don’t worry. It’s not a student. Mrs. Langton wouldn’t let that happen. It’s an adult.”
He raked a hand savagely through his hair. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“Well, it’d be kinda creepy otherwise, Dr. B.” She stepped forward and laid the card on the corner of his desk when it became apparent that Luke was not going to take the envelope for himself.
Luke let out a short sigh. “That it would, Kinley. What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Open it up and read it. This year, they’re supposed to be written in haiku. The poem should give you the first hint about your secret admirer.”
“Haiku.” There was no way those two syllables could have come out any more flat.
“The good ol’ five-seven-five.”
“What?” He’d gotten pretty good with the crazy made up words teenagers these days used—or so he thought, until right this moment.
“Syllables, Dr. B. A haiku is a poem made up of three lines. The first is five syllables, the second is seven syllables, and the third is five again.” She spoke matter-of-factly, as though all chemistry Ph.D.s should have known this secret to the universe.
“And this is supposed to be romantic?”
Luke felt like Alice through the looking glass. The whole thing just seemed curiouser and curiouser.
“No. Actually it’s supposed to be kinda annoying. You’ve gotta work for this date.”
Luke raised his right eyebrow. “I have never worked for a date to a high school dance in my life.”
Kinley smiled, a touch of mirth taking over her entire face. “Well, then, it’s time you lightened up, Dr. B. You know what they say—you only live once.”
Oh no. He’d been YOLOed. “Um, thanks, Kinley.”
“You’re welcome, Dr. B. I’ve gotta go deliver the rest of these. Later.”
She ducked out of the room as quietly as she’d entered, leaving Luke alone with a closet full of chemicals and an envelope full of haiku.
He didn’t know which would kill him the fastest.
He flicked the offensive envelope a bit with his finger. He didn’t really want to find out what lurked inside.
“Five-seven-five. YOLO.” Luke pushed his hand through his hair again. “No-LO.”
Determined not to open the small red rectangle, he pushed it even further to the side. It dangled precariously over the wastebasket.
One more little nudge and he’d be hai-through with this haiku business.
“Wait. You got a Cupid Caper poem?” Amanda Marsh’s jaw dropped a little as she took in the scene before her.
“Is that impossibl
e for you to imagine?” Luke thought he should be insulted by the insinuation, but he wasn’t sure why he cared. It bothered him a little, like a shirt tag that wouldn’t lay flat.
Amanda lifted her hand and waved an identical red envelope. “The Student Council Postmaster made it by my room too.”
“It’s a haiku, I hear.” Luke felt a little better about the skeptical look on her face. They both seemed to share the same opinion of the mail.
Amanda rolled her eyes, the gentle green in the middle edging out the duskier shades around the edges. “You didn’t send this to me, did you?”
Luke opened his mouth to say the first thing that came to mind, then stopped himself. No sense finding out if the rumors about red-headed tempers were true. He stopped himself, eyes locked on the woman in front of him. She wore a cotton knit shirt with a neckline that grazed the collarbone. Trim and tailored, the shirt fit and flared along every curve.
The fact that it was the same Valentine red as the envelope in question sent off his own internal siren. He needed to get a grip before the English teacher—or anyone else who might walk in the room—realized he was checking her out.
“Well, did you send this to me?” He averted his eyes downward and flicked at the envelope again. It fell into the wastebasket, landing atop the pile of crumpled papers with a satisfying slap.
“Of course not,” she bit out with lightning speed.
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“You know, Hamlet,” the English teacher aimed the Danish prince’s name squarely at the man behind the modern chemistry desk. “In Shakespeare’s day, a protest was not what we think of now—it wasn’t a complaint. The Elizabethans used protest to mean a vow. So when Queen Gertrude says ‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks,’ she’s actually saying the woman looks like she’s over-promising, not necessarily over-denying. Of course, Hamlet turns that back on his insincere mother.”
Luke leaned back slightly in his tall chair. “Interesting. I didn’t realize that.”
The Cupid Caper Page 2