“And you did?” Greer asks.
“Uh, yeah, his challenge was a joke. I set up a donut photo studio in my room and I’ve been slaying it. Gained over six thousand followers. And I was hired. So, yeah, I have a job now. I’m also working on branding and customer service, other boring things like that, but, yup, I’ve got myself a minimum-wage job. I’m excited about it. Anyway, what I was trying to say before you interrupted me is that maybe I should move into Greer’s place.”
My brow furrows. “She has a studio apartment. Why would you do that?”
Coraline’s brow pinches. “Mother of our Lord, guide me.” She exhales loudly and says, “Greer would move in here . . . with you. Then you two would have all the loud sex you want.”
“Oh, I . . . I don’t know how Greer would feel—”
“I love the idea,” Greer says. “I mean, if you want your girlfriend to live with you.” Greer winces, looking up at me.
Hell.
Smiling, I say, “I would fucking love it if you lived here.”
“Yeah?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“God, look at me, advancing a relationship. Looks like you owe me another sparkling item. And if Greer plays her cards right, she might be getting a sparkling item in the near future.”
Yup.
She very well might . . .
* * *
“Hey, where are you going?” I ask Greer as she power-walks down the hallway.
“Principal Dewitt forgot to schedule an appointment with me. Last minute.”
“Okay, I was just checking to see if I was still coming over to help you pack tonight.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll order pizza,” she quickly says.
“Okay. Coraline was going to come over as well.”
“I’ll order five pizzas then.”
“Five?” I chuckle.
She sighs and pauses, hand to forehead. “Two, I meant two.”
“I think one would be fine.”
“You know I like leftovers.”
True, her life revolves around leftovers.
“Okay, two. But I can order and pay for it.”
“No, I got it, you’re helping me.” She looks over my shoulder and bites her bottom lip.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Just nervous.” She shakes out her arms. “It’s never fun being called in to the principal’s office.”
I chuckle. “But you’re not a student, you realize that, right?”
“I know.”
Since it’s after school hours, I pull her into a hug and kiss the top of her head. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Just think, after your meeting, we’ll pack you up, and then this weekend, you move in.”
I feel her smile against my chest. “Are you sure you want me to invade your space?”
“I already made room in my cardigan closet.”
She chuckles. “Okay, I feel less stressed. Thank you.” She checks her watch. “I really need to go.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be okay.” I press a kiss to her lips.
“Stella said the same thing.” She steps away. “She said her first-year mid-semester evaluation was fine.”
Mid-semester evaluation . . .
“I’ll see you at my place.” She blows me a kiss.
Oh shit.
Oh SHIT!
“Greer, wait.”
“I can’t. I’m going to be late.” She waves to me over her shoulder as she walks quickly down the hall to the office. “Tell me at my place.”
“Wait, Greer.”
She disappears into the office and my hands quickly go to my hair.
“Fuck.” I pace. “Fuck!” I can’t believe I fucking forgot. I need to . . . hell . . .
I take off at a run to the office and fling the door open, startling Joanna, the receptionist.
“Arlo, are you okay?”
“Where’s Greer?” I look around frantically.
“Meeting with Nyema. They’re not to be disturbed.”
“Fuck,” I mutter and then go up to her desk. “Joanna, I need to talk to her.”
“Is it an emergency?”
“Uh . . .”
“If it’s not an emergency, then you’re going to have to wait.”
“Please, Joanna.”
“I’m sorry, Arlo. But you’re welcome to sit there and wait for her.”
I pull on my hair and stare down the hallway that leads to Nyema’s office. There’s no stopping it. She’s going to know. And all I can do is wait and apologize my ass off the minute she comes out of that office.
Anxiety climbs up my spine as I take a seat. My leg bounces beneath me, my teeth practically nibbling a hole in my lip, and I fidget as I wait . . .
And wait.
And wait.
Chapter Twenty-Six
GREER
“Greer, thank you for coming in on such short notice.”
“Not a problem.” I take a seat across from her and place my hands in my lap, trying not to sweat. After this, fun with Arlo. Packing with Arlo . . . living with Arlo.
“I was waiting to hear back from the school board. One of them was on vacation, so it took a little longer.”
I shift uncomfortably. “Oh, I didn’t know the evaluations are sent to the school board.”
“Forest Heights has its own set of rules, very different than other schools. We hold ourselves at a higher standard, and because of that, we have a multi-layered process.”
“Understandable. The prestige associated with working at one of the best public schools in the country is why I felt so grateful I got this job.”
“Yes. Before we start, I’d like to say, even though the volleyball team didn’t go to State, we still were very impressed with the quick improvement you and Miss Garcia made.”
Why does this feel like she’s trying to butter me up before throwing a dagger at my heart?
“Thank you. It’s been a pleasure working with the girls and Stella. I have confidence we’ll reach State next year.” Hoping there is a next year.
“Yes, well.” She places her hands on her desk and takes a deep breath. “As you’re aware, when evaluating our new teachers, we take everything into consideration. Comradery with the faculty, teaching techniques, syllabus, even the papers you grade. We like to make sure our teachers aren’t just goofing around in class, but providing a brilliant education.”
Oh God. I swallow hard. “Yes, I understand that.”
“You aren’t just evaluated by me and the board, but also by your peers.”
“Okay.” I nod.
She opens a file on her desk and glances over it. “Overall, your scores varied. Some good, one critical.”
“Oh. Well, I’d love to hear all the feedback. I’m always open to constructive criticism.”
“We’ll start with the good. It seems like your students are understanding the curriculum well. The papers we went over have been exceptional, your comments and feedback insightful, and very well-thought-out.”
“Thank you. I’ve loved working with the kids here. They’re bright and willing to learn—well, most of them.” I chuckle.
Nyema smiles. “There are always a few that push you to try harder to get through to them. But overall, we were pleased with their ability to retain the information. Comradery amongst co-workers is fair. Quite a few faculty members enjoy the fresh personality in the English department, but there were a few who thought that maybe you were coming on too strong and trying to cause a rift among teachers.”
“Oh, goodness, no. That’s not been my intention at all.”
Nyema holds up her hand. “I understand your eagerness to add value to teaching. Dressing up as a literary character was one of my favorite days of the school year so far.”
“Thank you.” Deep breaths. Let her speak. Don’t be so defensive, it’ll get you nowhere.
“But the way it came about rubbed some people the wrong way.”
“Yes, I don’t believe I handled
that too well. I apologize, it won’t happen again.”
She nods and stares at her paper. She runs her hand over her forehead and studies what’s in front of her in detail.
My heart sinks.
This entire conversation feels like there’s a giant, life-changing but at the end of it.
“One teacher in particular has had an issue with your performance.”
My back grows stiff.
“I’m honestly surprised with the evaluation they turned in, but I value their honesty.”
Oh my God . . .
“They were quite vocal about the way you teach the material. Unorthodox methods that didn’t seem to settle well with the school board. Yes, the methods have proven to help the students understand the material, but the methods also don’t provide the students a chance to interpret the literature properly, but rather lean on alternative devices to drive home the details. Some of the examples that were brought up were use of movies and CliffsNotes.”
I twist my hands together. “Some students need that extra visualization to help them understand.”
“I can see how showing a movie that corresponds with the book is relevant, but this teacher is particularly adamant about the nuisance it has caused for classrooms around you.”
My heart stutters to a stop.
My breath escapes me.
And every happy feeling drains from my body and pools around the legs of my chair.
She doesn’t have to say who this teacher is.
The complaints—I’ve heard them before. They’ve all come from the man who loves me, or who I thought loves me.
“You can just say Arlo. I know it’s him.”
She sighs. “Unfortunately, that’s what it has come down to, which surprises me. I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’re a couple, which isn’t against school policy, so please know what I’m about to say has nothing to do with that.”
What is she about to say?
“But the school board values his opinion greatly. Arlo Turner is one of the top reasons why we’re a public school with the highest graduating percentage.”
I grind my teeth together to keep them from chattering.
“He’s a great teacher.”
“And like I said, knowing there’s a romantic relationship between you two makes this rather uncomfortable, but I have to give him credit for being able to set aside his feelings and give us honest, critical feedback.”
Yeah, what a real hero.
“The school board thought it best that at the end of the semester, we part ways.”
Oh fuck. Fuck. Shit. No.
I’ve never in my life felt such a painful stab to the heart as I do right now.
Tears well in my eyes and betrayal sinks heavily in my heart, turning it into a dark shade of black. His face pops up in my head, and instead of the handsome man I love, all I see is hate.
Hate for him.
For his stupid arrogance.
For his inability to open his mind and see there are other ways to teach students than just standing up front and lecturing them.
Trying to keep my emotions at bay, I say, “I understand—”
She raises her hand. “But that was their suggestion, not the verdict.”
“Wait,” I say, my throat closing tight. “So, I haven’t been fired?”
She sighs and looks me in the eyes. “The reason I hired you, Greer, is because you’re unique. Because you don’t play by the book. I liked that about you. I also liked your vibrancy. You’re captivating, but, yes, I think resorting to CliffsNotes is not how we would prefer our kids to learn. I know there’s more you can give. Better ways you can help them understand. Innovative ways like the dress-up day. You bring literature to life, and I know you can figure out how to continue to do that moving forward.”
A tear falls down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away. “Thank you, Nyema.”
“Of course. You’re on strict probation though. Ditch the CliffsNotes and any other online resources you plan to give the kids to read. Stick to the book. The movies are fine, as I know you show short clips right after you read the parts in the book, and then you discuss. I told the board it’s bringing that scene to life for them. But start thinking of new ways to help the students learn the literature.”
“Of course.” I nod. “I’m more than happy to provide you with an updated lesson plan. I’ll just need a few weeks.”
“Two weeks, please. The faster the better with the school board.” Leaning forward, Nyema winks at me and says, “I have your back.”
“Thank you.”
“And Greer?”
“Yes?” I ask, ready to bolt out of here as quickly as possible.
“I don’t want you to be mad at Arlo. He did the right thing. As always, he put the kids first.” Easy for her to say.
“Yes, he did.” I give her a soft smile, suck in a deep breath, and stand from my chair. “Thank you for being open and honest with me.”
“Of course. If you need help with lesson plans and some new ideas, I might have some up my sleeve. I’d be more than happy to sit down with you and chat.”
“I’d love that, actually.”
“Good, I’ll have Joanna set up a time. As for now, deep breaths, everything will be okay.”
“Thank you, Nyema,” I say as another tear falls down my cheek.
“Are you okay?”
No.
I feel betrayed.
Played.
Like an absolute fool.
“Yes, just a lot to process. I’ll be fine.”
With that, I give her a quick wave and walk out the door. I stand in the hallway for a few seconds, trying to compose myself, but it’s no use—I’m a ball of wretched sorrow, and I need to get the hell out of here.
Wiping at my eyes one more time, I scurry down the hallway, past Joanna, and—
“Greer, hold up.”
I glance over my shoulder in time to catch Arlo pop out of a waiting chair and charge toward me.
Oh, hell no.
Turning away from him, I walk more quickly to the exit and hurry down the hallway toward my classroom, wishing I’d taken my things to the meeting so I could go straight to my car. Silly me, though, I was hoping to talk with Arlo afterward.
What a fool.
“Greer, please, wait. Let me explain.”
“Go to hell, Arlo,” I say, turning in to the English department wing.
“I wrote that before we got together.”
I spin around on him. “And that’s supposed to make it better?” I yell. Charging forward, I make it to my classroom, Arlo closely behind.
He shuts the door and attempts to approach me.
“I swear to God, Arlo, if you get any closer, I’ll scream bloody murder.”
He holds up his hands and takes a step back.
“Let me explain.”
“Do you realize I was almost fired back there?” I shout at him. “That if it were up to the school board, I’d be packing up a box right now?
“What? They were going to fire you?”
“Yeah, per your evaluation.”
“I didn’t say to fire you.”
“You didn’t have to. Let me see if I can get this correct. ‘The school board values his opinion greatly. Arlo Turner is one of the top reasons why we’re a public school with the highest graduating percentage.’”
“But—”
“No. Wait. There was more. ‘I have to give him credit for being able to set aside his feelings and give us honest, critical feedback.’” I point at him. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”
“I wasn’t doing anything. I was—”
“Can’t find the words you’re looking for? Let me help. You were a closeminded asshole who couldn’t get his way, therefore went crying to the board to do something about it.”
“That’s not what I did. Hell.” He grips his hair. “They asked me my opinion, I gave it to them. If I knew we were going to get together, I would have—”
“Lied?”
“No, I just . . . maybe would have gone easier on you.”
Throwing my hands on my hips, I say, “This isn’t about the evaluation, Arlo. Screw that. This is about how you truly, deep in your soul, don’t believe I’m a valuable educator.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s not? There wasn’t one kind thing you said about me. And to this day, we still argue over how to teach. You yourself said we should just sweep the topic under the rug because we’ll never agree.” I turn away from him, emotion overcoming me, and I let the tears fall.
“Greer, please.” I hear him step forward.
“Don’t come near me, Arlo. I can’t even look at you.”
“Baby . . .”
“No,” I snap at him. “Don’t you dare call me that. I’m not your baby. I’m not your anything. The only thing that I am to you is a colleague and a teacher you share a class wall with.”
“Greer.” His voice cracks. “You don’t mean that.”
I spin around again. “What did you think was going to happen? I was going to be okay after being read all the reasons you don’t think I should teach and then just jump in bed with you? You might have a good dick, but it’s not that good. You hurt me, Arlo. You almost got me fired. I’m on strict fucking probation and have to rewrite my lesson plans, and I don’t care if you filled that out before we were dating. What you wrote were your true feelings—observations—and that hurts more than anything. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and yes, it might be a different approach from what you do in the classroom, but it works, and I’m proud of the education I’ve provided.”
“You should be,” he says quickly. “I hear about your classroom all the time.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Do not try to praise me right now because it’s going to fall on deaf ears. Just get out.”
See Me After Class Page 34