by Jordan Lynde
There were only two jobs in the newspaper that day: a line cook for a restaurant and a substitute home economics teacher for a high school. I stared at the ad for the substitute teacher. They seemed really desperate, asking for resumes ASAP. Anyone could apply if they had their high school diploma, even if their experience was limited.
‘I bet I could look twenty-two,’ I murmured to myself, absent-mindedly running a hand through my hair. But the problem was the BA . . .
But what if they were really desperate? If I could lie about that, then maybe I could . . .
Suddenly I had an idea.
Chapter Three
‘I can’t believe you made me do this.’ Will frowned deeply at me while holding out an envelope.
I grabbed it excitedly, pulling out the items inside. A fake ID, a fake BA in liberal arts, a fake BA in home ec, and a couple of letters of recommendation – which were also fake. ‘Well, I can’t believe you managed to do it!’
It was a crazy idea I’d had – and I really hadn’t expected Will to follow through. But he had and now I had all the qualifications to apply for the job as a substitute teacher at Wesley Academy, as advertised in the newspaper. It was all counterfeit, but Will had promised me it all looked genuine.
‘I have connections,’ he said, but still didn’t smile. ‘They’ve also faxed them directly to the school. Did you make sure to delete your Facebook profile or anything with your real information?’
‘I didn’t have a Facebook profile anyway, but yes. Everything else is gone,’ I told him.
‘And you’re aware you can get into serious trouble for this?’
I looked back up at him. ‘Very. But I do need the money, Will. If I can pull this off, I’ll be all set.’
‘I know you need the money. But do you really have to go through all this to get it?’
‘Maybe not, but I’ll earn more than in a minimum-wage job,’ I responded, biting my lower lip. ‘I know it can go horribly wrong, but I have to at least try. People do worse stuff. Like robbing banks.’
I figured Will would smile at my joke, but he didn’t. ‘Just be careful, Harley.’
‘I don’t even have the job yet; I’m just seeing if it’ll work. How hard can being a cooking teacher be, anyway?’ I said, holding my ID up to the light. Would it really fool them?
Will still seemed unhappy. ‘I can’t take the fall for you if you do get caught. You know that, right?’
‘I wouldn’t even think about throwing you under the bus,’ I promised. ‘It’s just for a little bit. Just until my birthday.’
‘You better hope they don’t check your references properly,’ he told me. ‘Otherwise you’re screwed.’
‘They seemed really desperate. They posted an ad again in this morning’s newspaper. It’s been in it for a week now. I called and set up an interview this morning and they wanted me in right away, but I told them I could only do this afternoon. Four o’clock.’
‘You’re going today?’ He sounded shocked.
I nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘This is a really bad idea, Harley. Just . . . don’t get caught, OK?’
I put the papers back in the envelope, swallowing hard. Everything was all set – Will had helped me type up a compelling resume and now I had the documentations: all I needed to do now was put on some make-up and I’d be ready to go . . .
‘Pig, I’m hungry!’ Elliot cried from his bedroom.
. . . after I fed my little brother some lunch.
Two hours later, I was looking at myself in the mirror. My heart pounded in my chest and my palms were sweaty. I rubbed them on my skirt, trying to rid them of the sticky perspiration. Turned out I definitely didn’t look like I was twenty-two. Definitely, definitely did not.
My chestnut hair was now thrown up into a messy bun, supposedly making me look older – or at least that’s what Will had told me, but he always said I looked older than I was anyway. My eyes were hidden behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses – another thing Will had said would help me look older. I thought they just made me look like a geek. And I’d applied light make-up which, surprisingly, actually did make me look older. Not twenty-two in my eyes, but maybe nineteen or something.
I’d chosen to wear a fitted, long-sleeved white blouse accompanied by a black skirt that reached just past my knees. Black flats completed the outfit. I frowned at my reflection. Would I really be able to pull this off? It was just an interview, and maybe I wouldn’t even get the job. I’d just pretend it was like any other interview.
Now I just had to take Elliot over to Will’s while I was gone.
I crept into his room, trying to be as silent as possible. He’d fallen asleep shortly after his lunch, and I didn’t want to wake the poor guy up. Making sure not to step on any of his toys, I went to his bed and scooped him up gently. He didn’t even stir. Smiling, I made my way out of his room, shutting the door with my foot.
I went next door to Will’s, not bothering to knock before entering. He was in the middle of the living room, half naked. A shocked expression came across his face for a moment, but then he just frowned at me. ‘You should really knock before entering,’ he told me in a whisper, taking note of Elliot in my arms.
I shrugged. ‘I’ve seen men without their shirts on before.’
‘But . . . actually, never mind,’ Will said with a sigh. ‘You can go put Elliot in my bed.’
‘I was going to do that anyway,’ I told him, walking past him and going to his bedroom. I carefully placed Elliot down on the bed, pulling the covers over him. When I finished tucking him in, I turned to leave the room.
‘Pig!’
I jumped violently in surprise, twisting around to see Elliot sitting up and staring at me. I placed a hand on my rapidly beating heart. ‘Eli! You scared the crap out of me!’
‘Good luck!’ he cried loudly.
A smile broke out across my face, my annoyance at him surprising me gone. ‘Thank you, Eli.’
‘I love you.’
‘I love you too,’ I responded, going over to kiss him on the forehead. ‘Go back to sleep, and when you wake up don’t give Will too hard of a time. Remember, he needs to work too.’
My brother nodded, lying back down. ‘Bye, Pig.’
‘See ya, kid.’
I left Will’s room and went back to the living room, where Will was still shirtless. He appraised me with his eyes as I walked by him. ‘You know, Harley, if you dress like an adult all the time, I might consider taking you as my wife.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Ew. You’re like, fifty.’
‘What? I’m only twenty-seven!’
‘Close enough,’ I responded, a smirk slipping on my face. ‘I’ll see you later, Grandpa.’
‘Good luck,’ Will said, pretending to look insulted as I slipped out the front door.
I made my way out to the parking lot where my used Nissan Sentra was parked. I dug my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door, sliding into the driver’s seat. It was freezing, so I quickly turned on the car and cranked the heat. Shuddering, I pulled out of the parking lot and began to make my way to the high school. Butterflies appeared in my stomach as I got closer and closer and I swallowed nervously, my anxiety growing.
Maybe this was a bad idea. I could get into serious trouble. But what if I actually got the job with no problems? Would I take it? I’d certainly make way more than I would at some lousy minimum-wage job, and that would help out Elliot and myself a lot. I knew I’d take the job if it were offered to me. No matter the consequences.
A gigantic brick building finally made its way into my vision as I drove around a bend. Just the size and appearance of the place intimidated me. It looked like a school for delinquents . . . or a prison. I realized that maybe I should have researched the school first. A tall, black-barbed fence surrounded the entire structure. Green vines climbed up the edges of the bricks to the windows – windows that were barred from the outside.
I immediately started to have second thoughts
again. I pulled into the parking lot, cutting the engine, then sat in my car for a few minutes, gathering the courage to go inside. When I finally stopped deciding to be a coward, I opened my door and forced myself out. Cool air nipped at my exposed skin as I started walking towards the building, looking around me nervously. I really needed to stop being such a baby . . . I needed to act like an adult. An adult who needed to get this job. So I squared my shoulders and marched up the steps to the entrance of the school.
Just as I reached the doors, a tall African American man opened one of them, offering me a short smile. ‘Harley Allen?’
His greeting took me by surprise. They’d actually sent someone out to meet me? ‘Yeah, I’m Harley,’ I responded, sticking out my hand. ‘Harley Allen,’ I added hurriedly.
He took it and shook it. ‘Nice to meet you. I got here just in the time – the doors are always locked. I’d hate if I’d made you stay outside in the cold.’
‘Oh, well, thank you . . .’ I trailed off because I had no idea who this man was.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m the principal here, Collin Martin. Why don’t you come to my office?’
Nodding, I followed him inside and down what I assumed to be the main hallway. There was a man in a security uniform standing inside and he immediately stood up.
‘She’s all right,’ Collin told him. ‘Just in for a quick interview.’
The security officer nodded before sitting back in his seat.
‘You usually get checked when you enter,’ Collin explained to me.
I thought that was weird, but didn’t say anything – maybe it was school regulations. The floors of the school were scuffed and many of the lockers were graffitied on. I tried not to think much of it, but what school didn’t immediately clean the graffiti off lockers? What type of place was this?
Collin’s office was of decent size. There was his work desk with a computer on it and two chairs opposite it. I took a seat in one of them while he sat on his side of the desk. ‘So you’re interested in becoming the new substitute teacher here?’ he started, folding his hands on his lap.
I mimicked his position. My palms were sweaty again. ‘Yes, I’m very interested.’ Good, my voice wasn’t shaking.
‘Well, you’re the only one who’s applied since we put the ad up, and we desperately need someone,’ he told me.
That sounded odd. Why hadn’t anyone applied to the job besides me? Did no one want to be a home ec teacher? My town was pretty small, but I figured people from other towns would be interested. Maybe it was because no one wanted a substitute position? It made sense. Substitutes made less than actual teachers.
‘Basically, if you want the job, we’ll hire you,’ he continued, offering me a small smile. ‘As long as your credentials check out. But I took a peek earlier and they seem fine. You’re young, but everyone needs to start somewhere, right? I’m not afraid to give you this opportunity.’
I blinked at him. What? I got the job that easily? We hadn’t even been in the interview for five minutes! I suddenly didn’t know what to do as I hadn’t actually been expecting to get it. But he’d just offered the job to me . . .
‘Er, why doesn’t anyone want to work here?’ I asked.
‘Well, no one really wants to work at a corrections school,’ Collin explained slowly. ‘You do know about this school, right?’
My eyes widened. What? It was a school for delinquents? No wonder no one wanted to work here! That also explained why it was so trashy. This was a last-resort school that parents sent their kids to because they stole one too many times or killed their teacher!
‘Maybe you didn’t realize that,’ he said, now frowning. ‘This is a school for troubled students. We allow normal students here as well, but we’re mainly a last-resort school, although we don’t accept students who have a hard criminal record. For example, we wouldn’t be taking in a student who shot someone. Those type of students are court-assigned to a higher-level corrections school.’
I stared at him, still a little shocked. While it was good to know murderers didn’t go here, it was still a little alarming.
‘I’m going to guess you don’t want the job now?’ he said, sighing. ‘Many people change their mind after seeing the school.’
I shook my head. ‘No, that won’t change my mind. I really need a job.’ Even if this was a corrections school.
His face brightened again. ‘Good to hear it! If you like it here, we can keep you round to substitute for other classes like PE. I don’t want you to think that when our home ec instructor returns you won’t have a job any more.’
‘That sounds great,’ I told him, smiling. Delinquent school or not, I could use the money. And besides, if the students were delinquents anyway, I doubt I’d get into much trouble if I messed anything up.
‘Wonderful! So we’ll just check your credentials one more time and then give you a call. If it all goes well, you can start Monday! And just so you know, if it ever becomes too much for you, it’s OK to quit. A lot of teachers do. We kind of expect it,’ he said, scratching the back of his head. ‘But hopefully you’ll like it here.’
I grinned at him. Yeah, I could handle it. A seventeen-year-old girl teaching a bunch of delinquents . . .
What in the world had I gotten myself into?
Chapter Four
Collin Martin had ended up calling me a few hours after my interview to tell me I was hired. I could barely believe it and neither could Will. It just felt too easy. But then Will and I had researched the school and found out why I’d gotten the job so easily. Wesley Academy was rated half a star on Glassdoor.
Still, I was going to make around three hundred a week, and I wasn’t going to complain about that.
So on Monday morning, my first day at the school, I woke up eager and ready to see how the day would go. I dressed in the same outfit I wore to my interview, since it was one I knew worked. After dropping off Elliot, I was out the door.
This time I wasn’t as nervous going up to the school. Although I now knew it was a school for delinquents, I figured it couldn’t be that bad. So I marched up to the front doors with confidence, reaching out my arms to push them open.
When the door didn’t budge, my arms buckled out from under me, and the momentum of my body sent me face first into the door. I stumbled backwards a few steps in shock, my nose throbbing in pain as I quickly looked around to make sure no one had seen my stupidity. Of course the door would be locked, I realized. I tried every single door of the front entrance then, only to find out that all of them were locked. Scowling, I pressed my face to one on the far right, peering in. Hopefully someone walking by would notice me and open the door. Where was the guard? And why hadn’t they given me a key? As a teacher, wouldn’t I need one? I couldn’t see a visitors’ button either.
When five minutes passed and no one had appeared, I groaned in frustration – I didn’t want to be late. Maybe there was a different entrance I’d missed. So I marched back down the step and rounded the corner of the building, hoping to find a side door. The ground went from being paved to being made out of gravel; I could feel it crunching under my flats.
A shout of pain met my ears and my head snapped up instantly, looking around. When I didn’t see anyone, I relaxed slightly, but kept myself wary. Another cry of pain came and I realized it was coming from my right. Was it a fight? Slowly I crept along the edge of the building, coming to an area where there was an alleyway. I heard voices now, voices that sounded threatening. My heart rate began to climb as I kept myself hidden behind the school wall, listening hard.
There was definitely trouble going on.
‘I thought you guys came here to fight, not to get the shit beaten out of you?’ someone said in a taunting voice.
‘You couldn’t hurt me with those tiny fists even if you tried,’ another person retorted.
‘Well, how about I try and find out now?’
There was the sound of skin hitting skin and a low groan. I flinched back. What
the heck should I do? These people were fighting! Was I supposed to pretend I hadn’t noticed? What if someone got hurt? Swallowing my fear, I stepped out into the entrance to the alleyway, and my eyes landed upon four guys dressed in the school’s uniform: black slacks, a white button-down shirt, a black jacket and a navy tie.
Two of them were on the ground. Well, more like one with short brown hair was lying on the ground, being punched in the face repeatedly by the other, who had shaggy mahogany-colored hair. The one being punched had blood all over his face, and the arm trying to cover his face was covered in tattoos. I stared at them, horrified for a moment, before turning to the other two. One of them was tall and had dark hair. He was dodging punches being thrown by the fourth boy, who had dirty-blond hair. The tide suddenly changed as the dark-haired boy threw a punch, lightly nicking the blond.
All four hadn’t noticed me yet, and it was taking all I had not to run away – but I had to stop these guys before they killed each other! I took a few nervous steps closer to them. Suddenly my foot slipped and I fell over backward, letting out a yelp of surprise. I landed on my butt hard and winced, squeezing my eyes shut. All sounds of fighting immediately ceased and I felt my heart skip a beat.
When I opened my eyes, all of them were standing and staring at me. I glared back, becoming instantly terrified.
‘Who are you?’ the blond one demanded, a scowl crossing his features.
I didn’t respond at first, still gaping at the four intimidating young men before me. All of them were tense, their hands still balled in fists.
The dark-haired one chuckled. ‘Nice view.’
At first I was surprised by his voice – he had a strong English accent – but as his words registered in my mind I grew confused . . . until I realized that my legs were still spread from my fall – and I was wearing a skirt. Blushing furiously, I pulled myself to my feet, glaring at him. He returned my look with an amused one.
‘What am I doing?’ I asked, turning to look at the blond boy. ‘What are you four doing? I may be new here, but I’m sure that fighting is against the school rules.’