Текст книги "Every Wrong Reason"

Автор книги: Rachel Higginson

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter Sixteen

23. He doesn’t think things through.

Can we meet for dinner?

I want to talk.

Please, Kate. Just hear me out.

I slid my cell phone back and forth in my palm and looked at my last hour class. I had the strongest desire to ask their opinion on Nick’s out of the blue invitation. Sure, they were freshman… young… immature… pimpled. But maybe if I explained the situation to them they would have some kind of genius insight and give me the advice I had been searching for.

Or maybe I had accidentally started taking LSD and I could no longer separate my hallucinations from reality.

Was that possible?

I looked down at my pink thermos.

Maybe these little bastards were slipping it to me when I wasn’t looking.

“Mrs. Carter!” a gangly kid named Gabe shouted from the back of the classroom. I was so startled by his outburst that all I could do was look at him. He took that as permission to continue. “Do you want us to answer all of these questions? Or just the ones we know?”

I blinked at him. “This is a test.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know if you wanted us to guess or not.” He rubbed his nose with his palm and I could hear the slick slurping of snot from here.

“You’re not supposed to have to guess, Gabe. You were supposed to study last night so that you would know all of the answers today.” And honestly, had he never taken a test before? Did he really not understand the concept?

He canted his head to the side and looked as confused as ever. “So you do want us to guess?”

Some of his classmates snickered at his bewilderment and I shushed them. “Yes, Gabe. Answer all of them. You might even get some right.”

“I’m not going to get them right,” he mumbled.

I pressed my lips together to keep from commenting further. I squeezed my phone between my hands and decided it would be a very, very bad idea to ask these kids.

They couldn’t possibly understand Nick’s intentions any more than they could the Canterbury Tales. And that wasn’t saying very much.

I held my phone under my desk and discreetly typed, Where?

If he said Starla’s I would use this in court against him.

His response was immediate. The Purple Pig.

Ooh, fancy. I taunted.

My treat.

I hesitated for another minute. I lifted my eyes and watched the class for a few minutes, making sure they knew I would catch them if they tried to cheat.

Finally, when I was sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to, I turned back to my phone and typed, I’ll have to go home and change first.

Two minutes ticked by before he responded. My heartbeat tripled in my chest and I wasn’t sure of what to make of my nerves. I didn’t know why my palms were suddenly sweaty or my legs so restless.

When his next text came, it was completely unexpected. I could pick you up. Followed by another one directly after it, If you wanted.

When I took a breath, it trembled in my lungs. I can drive, I told him quickly. What time?

7.

I stared at his simple reply and worried that I let him down. Then I worried about why I was so worried I let him down. Then I wanted to crawl under my desk and hide for the rest of the night.

The bell rang, followed by a collective groan from the struggling freshman still working on their test. I tried not to smile wickedly. If they had trouble with this one, just wait until I gave them the final.

Muahahaha .

Although, maybe I should incorporate some more in class review before I let them crash and burn in a couple weeks. Clearly they weren’t going to take the lead and study on their own.

God, forbid they show a little initiative.

I collected their papers as they left the room and listened to their excuses and complaints with the patience of Gandhi.

I glanced at the clock in the room and calculated traffic, a shower and some time to down a bottle of wine. Maybe two. I needed to get moving if I was going to be on time for Nick.

Did I care if I was on time?

I decided not to answer that question.

I closed up my classroom in record time, threw the tests in my bag as I locked the door and skipped checking my mailbox. Whatever was in there could wait until tomorrow.

I passed Kara in the hall, but she was already involved in a conversation with our principal, Mr. Kellar, a balding middle-age man that was so tall, he made Kara look like a dwarf. But like a hot dwarf.

I waved to both of them, ignored Kara’s penetrating curiosity and dove into the freezing December afternoon.

Scraping my windshield and waiting for my dated car to heat up had never been more irritating. But finally, I was on the road to my house.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, I was a jittery bundle of nerves and it had nothing to do with the fact that my heater hadn’t gotten remotely warm on the commute.

I kept replaying our text conversation in my head and checking my phone every two minutes. Why had I agreed to dinner with Nick? I wanted to punch him in the face for what happened during mediation.

Or at least run him over with my car.

Wait, was that better or worse than punching him?

He had been so rude to me, so hurtful.

But maybe part of me thought if we could have a civil conversation, I could talk him out of wanting the house. I could reassure him that I wasn’t pregnant and maybe that would ease his mind a little bit.

Maybe his unrealistic demands stemmed from a fear of losing a child?

His child.

Our child…

He had nothing to worry about, though. I was definitely not pregnant. And when my period had come four days after our failed mediation, I had hated him all over again.

As impossible as I knew it was, Nick’s small flicker of concern about a potential child had ignited hope in me.

For those few days, I had wondered if maybe it was a possibility… if maybe my womb wasn’t shriveled or wilted.

If maybe motherhood wasn’t an unreachable pipe dream.

But then my period had come… stronger and more uncomfortable than ever– like it was on a rampage of righteous vengeance– and it was like fate was playing some kind of sick joke on me.

See? my mind whispered. You’ll never be pregnant. You’ll never have a baby of your own.

You’ll never be a mother.

I had been furious with Nick all over again. I had written him a dozen hateful texts that never got sent. I’d even composed an email that vomited every vile thought I could think of.

But in the end I hadn’t sent it. Not because I’d changed my mind, but because I didn’t want him to feel as awful as I did. Even after everything we’d been through, even after his behavior during mediation, I couldn’t deliver that news again.

I couldn’t disappoint him again.

I assumed he’d figured it out by now.

I showered and dressed in a simple black wrap dress. It wasn’t the nicest thing I owned, but it gave me the illusion of curves and I knew he liked it.

I would be freezing in this weather and I would hate myself for wearing heels when I would have to walk at least a block from the parking garage to the restaurant. But I couldn’t not look nice tonight.

I didn’t know if it was to impress him or punish him.

And I didn’t examine my feelings long enough to figure it out.

When I walked into the trendy wine bar, the crush of people surprised me. I wasn’t expecting this kind of crowd for a Wednesday night.

I pushed through bodies to find the hostess stand, but Nick caught my attention before I could ask her if he had arrived yet. He sat at the bar in stylish gray jeans and a black sweater that fit him well. His jaw had been trimmed and he’d recently had a haircut. His chestnut hair lay over his forehead just right, a little mussed and perfectly sun-kissed, even though it was the dead of winter.

He was gorgeous.

He was too gorgeous.

The corners of his mouth lifted when our gazes collided and he raised his hand in a small hello. I didn’t smile back. Or wave.

I spent every ounce of energy composing myself before I had to speak to him.

When would it stop being such a lightning strike when I saw him? When would it stop feeling like the earth had come to a screeching halt and I had been pushed forward from momentum and propulsion and impetus and all other scientific terms until he became my entire world? Until he became everything I saw and heard and smelled and breathed?

When would this attraction to him die?

God, I was a mess.

He leaned in when I placed my hands on the high-backed bar chair. “Hey,” he murmured. “Was parking a pain?”

I licked dry lips. “Parking is always a pain down here.”

He shifted nervously and tugged on his damn earlobe. “Do you, uh, want to take a seat? I made a reservation earlier today, but they said it would be a while yet. I can ask them again if you’d rather-”

“This is fine,” I interrupted. This was actually better. Sitting at the bar would feel infinitely less intimate than a table against the wall.

I hung my purse on a hook under the bar and slipped my coat off, hanging it on the back of my chair. After I’d climbed up and situated myself, Nick slid me a drink menu.

“What are you drinking?” I asked him while I studied wines.

“Manhattan.”

I wrinkled my nose and saw him smile in my peripheral vision. “They have a cab franc,” he murmured.

Instantly I perked up. My favorite.

I told that to the bartender who deadpanned, “We only sell that one in the bottle.”

“Oh.” My eyes fell back to the menu, perusing it for something different.

“We’ll take the bottle,” Nick announced.

The bartender immediately gave us his back and I swung my head to face my ex-husband.

Soon to be ex-husband.

“Are you trying to get me drunk? Do you think that I’ll be easier to deal with after I’m three sheets to the wind?”

He chuckled lightly, “I know you won’t be easier to deal with. I’ve seen you drunk.” I glared at him because I didn’t want to laugh. Seeing that he wasn’t going to get a reaction out of me, he explained, “It’s your favorite. Besides, they can cork it for you at the end of dinner and you can take it home with you. It’s not a big deal.”

Buying the wife you were separated from a bottle of her favorite wine just because it was her favorite wine was, in fact, a very big deal. But I decided not to point that out.

Instead, I nodded once and said, “Thank you.”

He leaned in and I caught the tantalizing scent of his cologne and skin. “You’re welcome.”

The bartender reappeared with my wine. It took him a few minutes to uncork it in front of us and go through the tedious process of letting me taste it before pouring my full glass.

As if I was going to turn it down.

Clearly, he did not know me.

After he finally disappeared again, I examined the food menu.

“You can’t stare at your menu the entire night,” Nick teased. “This isn’t just a free meal. You have to work for your dinner.”

He was being nice to me and I had no idea what to do with it. Was he just trying to soften me up so he could get what he wanted? Or was he being genuine?

I set my menu down. “I didn’t think it was a free meal.”

“I was just teasing you, Kate.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know what you want?” His tone was less playful.

I hated that I’d chased it away. “I think so.”

“Me too.”

“Okay, good.”

He fidgeted with the corners of his menu for a minute and I suddenly had a hard time swallowing. I could feel him building up to something, feel the energy inside him expand and contract until it pushed at mine… until it invaded every ounce of my space, every inch of my body.

The bartender came back before either of us could speak again and we put in our food order. He had a ridiculous amount of questions for us and by the time he turned around again I had decided that I should voice a formal complaint.

Except he wasn’t doing anything more than what he was supposed to. My nerves had put me obnoxiously on edge. I took a shaky sip of my wine and savored the flavor, hoping to find center.

Hoping to find solid ground.

“I’m sorry for what happened during mediation. I didn’t… I didn’t expect you to take it so hard.”

I stared at him, unable to form words for a full minute. Finally, I whispered, “Which part?”

“You have to know that if we had a baby… if you became pregnant, that I would do everything in my power to give that child the very best life.”

“I’m not pregnant,” I told him quickly. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

He flinched. I watched pain fill his blue eyes and his shoulders tense with disappointment.

The wine churned in my stomach and I wanted to sob. Didn’t he know what his disappointment with me did to me? Didn’t he understand how much my inability to do this one thing right tore at me, shredded my soul to pieces… poisoned my thoughts of the future and turned all of my hopes and dreams to ash?

“I thought you’d be relieved.” My voice was such a harsh rasp that I wasn’t sure he could even hear it over the din of the restaurant.

He leaned in again, ignoring my comment completely. “I didn’t realize how deeply affected you were until mediation. I should have. God, I should have known that it would kill you to even talk about it. But… before we separated you had seemed, I don’t know… it was like you’d shut off all of your emotions about a baby. I thought you were... I thought maybe you were…”

“Callous? Heartless?” I lifted an eyebrow. “You thought I didn’t care?”

“Yeah,” he admitted sadly. “Yeah, I thought you didn’t care.”

“It started to hurt too much,” I admitted. “I didn’t… I couldn’t keep hoping each month that that would be the one that was different. I couldn’t keep waiting for each month to prove me wrong. It would have killed me.”

He shook his head, struggling to swallow. “I’m so sorry, Kate. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry I was too blind to see how much you were hurting.”

My chest felt pinched, my heart thumped painfully. “It’s not something you have to worry about anymore, Nick. Like I said, I’m not pregnant. It’s done. You can take it out of your demands.”

His fingertips lifted my chin, “Hey, look at me.” I obeyed, but he didn’t give me much of a choice. His deep blue eyes pierced me, body and soul. I felt captivated… transfixed… imprisoned by the intensity of his expression. “I can’t change the past, but I want you to know that I think you’ll be a lovely mother. I think you’ll be perfect. The very best.” His voice roughened, deepened. “And one day, I know you’ll get to be one. I know it will happen for you.”

Tears welled in my eyes and I wanted to run from the room, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but let him look at me and hold me in place with his sincerity. “You can’t know that,” I whispered.

“I can,” he swore. “You’re too beautiful a person not to have a child, not to be a mother. It will happen, Kate. I know it will.”

A lone tear slipped beyond my control and slid down my cheek. He caught it with his thumb and brushed it away.

The bartender reappeared with our meals and I finally tore my eyes from his. I stared down at my elegantly prepared Osso Buco and wondered how I could possibly eat it. No matter how good it was, it would still taste like dust in my mouth. I would still have to fight to keep it down.

“Why did you really ask me here, Nick? Was it really just to apologize for that?”

He pushed his fork around his plate, stabbing his pork shoulder with a savage frustration. When he looked back at me the tenderness in his expression was gone, replaced by something fierce and primal.

“I’m not going to stop, Kate. I need you to know that.”

“Stop what?”

He didn’t answer specifically. Instead, his voice pitched low and his hand landed on my knee, his fingertips sliding beneath the hem of my dress. “I’m not going to back down.”

“About the divorce?” I guessed. “You can’t have the house. You can’t have Annie.”

“I want more than the house and Annie.”

His words sent a shiver of fear slithering down my spine. “Why are you doing this?”

His eyes flashed with something dark and familiar. Lust, I thought at first. But then… but then maybe something more too.

“Because I can’t stop.” He sounded as pained and desperate as I felt. “I can’t let this go.”

I didn’t know if he was talking about me or the divorce. I didn’t know if he meant us or our things. But I couldn’t speculate.

I couldn’t ask him.

I jumped to my feet and he caught the bar stool before I could topple it.

“We shouldn’t have done this.”

“Don’t be a coward now, Kate,” he challenged. “Don’t back down now.”

I glared at him, even while my heart felt like it was splitting in two. “I’m leaving.”

“Leave.” His chin jerked toward the door. “Run if you have to. But this isn’t over. I’m not going to stop just because you won’t face me.”

I shook my head, unable to come up with anything to say. I grabbed my purse and my coat and stumbled through the restaurant, pushing my way to the door.

The icy wind slapped me in the face as soon as I stepped outside, but it wasn’t enough to shake off Nick’s threats… or the electric heat that still sparked between us.

It was like I was addicted to him. Why couldn’t I just move on? Get over him?

Why did I get sucked back into his gravity every single time?

It was finally obvious. This divorce was going to kill me.

I would die before I ever finalized the end of my marriage.

Chapter Seventeen

24. It’s me. I’m beyond damaged.

Christmas break was within my reach. If I could make it through this day, I’d have three and a half blissful weeks of break.

Granted most of my plans included binge-watching Netflix shows… but the point was I wouldn’t have to get out of my pajamas for days.

That was glorious.

Especially because this Chicago winter was unbearable and my pajamas were warm and fleece and heavenly.

Nick used to tease me that I turned into an Eskimo during winter break. He was right. Hamilton was frigid during the winter months. Our school building was painfully out of date and the heaters never worked properly.

Sentenced to look somewhat like a professional every day, I had to shiver through the majority of my classes and wonder if my health insurance covered frostbite.

Christmas break was the one reprieve I got between November and March. I could finally be warm for days on end. My teeth could stop chattering and my toes could regain feeling.

I just had to make it to the end of the day. Tonight I had a date with an entire pot of hot chocolate, cheesy potato soup that I was determined to make from scratch and old Christmas movies.

This was the first time I had something to look forward to in months and it was hard to contain my excitement.

I shuffled papers during my plan period and tried not to doodle on them. It was hard to explain hearts and stars bordering my students’ essays. Usually, if I forgot myself and ended up drawing some stupid little doodle, I had to then come up with something positive to say next to it– like I’d meant to put it there.

But these particular essays were exceptionally bad. And I couldn’t find the willpower to write “Great point!” or “Way to think outside the box.”

These were, without a doubt, inside the box. Inside the cliff-notes-version-absolute-bare-minimum box.

Something slammed against the lockers outside my classroom and I squeaked in surprise. My heart immediately jumped into overdrive with the possibilities of what that sound meant.

No, I cringed. Not on the last day.

Please don’t make me call the police.

I really didn’t want to fill out paperwork today of all days. I just wanted to survive finals, go home and bundle up until only my eyes could be seen. And my fingers when I needed to push buttons on the remote.

Was that really so much to ask?

“I’ll kill you, motherfucker.” Another body or maybe it was the same body slammed into the locker again and I jumped to my feet.

They, whoever they were, sounded serious.

A surge of adrenaline pulsed through me and I fumbled with my locked drawer for a minute. When I finally wrenched it open, I grabbed my phone and left the drawer dangling there. I didn’t have time to worry about someone stealing my wallet right now.

Besides, I didn’t get paid until Friday. All they would get from me today was one, embarrassingly low credit limit and three hundred dollars in my checking account.

I sprinted into the hall and then slid to a stop. I should have looked first. Goddamn it, I should have called for help first.

Andre Gonzalez had Jay Allen pressed against the lockers on my side of the hallway with a knife balanced against his throat. A small bead of blood dripped from a tiny cut in Jay’s neck and I swallowed against the panic that crimson dot pulled out of me.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I sounded as afraid as I felt and I hated my weakness.

Two of Andre’s gangster friends flanked him. Neither had produced a weapon yet, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think they didn’t have one. They glared at me with a wildness that sent my stomach plummeting to my toes.

“Go back in your classroom, Ms. C,” Andre instructed. “You don’t want to get involved in this.”

He was not wrong.

Jay pushed against Andre, pulling everyone’s attention back to him. “You’re dead, puta. You should never have put your hands on me.”

“How-how did you get that past the metal detectors?” I squeezed my cellphone in my hand and wondered where the other teachers were. Where were the other students? Except that this wing of the school was mostly quiet during this period. I glanced up and down the hall, but most of the classrooms were dark.

Andre grinned and it sickened me. There was a calculated maliciousness there that didn’t seem right. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, teach.”

“Andre, please let him go. You can’t kill him at school. It’s almost Christmas break. Can’t you kill him during that?”

Andre cocked his head back in surprise. His grin spread and genuine laughter barked out of him. “He’ll run. I’ll never find him if I let him go now.”

“Please don’t kill him,” I pleaded. Everything inside of me shook. I could barely stay standing. Tears pricked at my eyes and adrenaline surged through me, making everything feel extra bright, extra real.

Andre stood up suddenly and pressed his fingers against the dull side of the knife to close it. He slipped it back into his pocket and shrugged casually. “Ms. Carter, it’s just a figure of speech. I wasn’t really going to kill him.”

I nodded to reassure him, but I didn’t believe him. Not in any way. “I know,” I whispered.

Andre’s scary gaze swung back to Jay, “You’d better get my money.”

Jay jerked his chin up, “I’ll get it.”

Andre took a step toward him again in an attempt to shield me from his next threat, “Better watch your back until it’s in my pocket, culo.”

Jay’s jaw clenched dangerously, “I said I would get it.”

Andre stepped back again and turned his attention to me. “You’ll never find this knife.”

I understood what he was saying. I didn’t argue. “Okay.”

“And you don’t have any witnesses. Jay’s not going to talk. Are you, Jay?”

Jay didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I did, though. I needed to reassure Andre I wasn’t going to turn him in. “Okay, Andre. I won’t say anything either.”

“It wouldn’t matter if you did or not,” Andre grinned. “There isn’t anyone to back you up.”

I nodded. I couldn’t stop nodding. “I get it.”

His smile died and he pinned me with a hard look. “Good.”

Andre and his thugs walked down the hallway with the kind of swagger that told me they believed they were completely untouchable. They believed they could act like thugs and threaten teachers and hold knives to other people’s throats and nothing bad would ever happen to them.

I watched them go and wondered if I would ever see Andre again. Sometimes things like this happened and the offending student never came back. As soon as their autonomy was questioned, they gave up school for good and left for the life they believed was inevitable. A life on the streets.

I couldn’t decide if I wanted Andre to come back or not.

On one hand, he was smart. Too freaking smart. He could do something with his life. He could go places. Do things.

On the other hand, he had threatened me.

This school.

My legs finally gave out and I slid down the lockers until I was a messy heap on the floor. I felt like bursting into tears, but I held them back. I had to make it through the rest of the day. I couldn’t breakdown now.

I’d wait until later… until I was locked safely in my home... until I was away from this place.

Jay slid down next to me and I jumped. I’d forgotten he was here.

He sat a foot away; his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He crossed his arms over his chest too and stared at his shoes thoughtfully.

I didn’t know what to say to him. I knew what I wanted to say. I wanted to yell at him for ever getting caught up in something so stupid. I wanted to hit him on the back of the head and ask what the hell he was thinking. I wanted to know why he owed Andre money and how he planned to get out of this mess.

I didn’t say anything.

He wouldn’t have answered any of my questions. And honestly, I was still trying to recover the ability to form words.

I was a trembling, terrified mess.

“Thanks, Ms. C.,” Jay finally said in a low, sincere voice.

I looked up at him, jerking through an especially bad shiver and nodded my head. “Don’t ever let that happen near me again.”

He looked over at me with big eyes. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

My fierce conviction was evident when I said, “I mean it, Jay. Next time I’ll call the cops before I ever step foot outside my classroom. Don’t think I won’t.”

“You should have done that today!” The look in his dark eyes told me he meant it. “In fact, you should never have come out here! Damn, Ms. C., what were you thinking? Isn’t there school policy or some shit? Next time call the police and lock your damn door.”

I ignored all of his valid points and growled, “Goddamn, Jay! There better not be a next time.”

His lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh and I wanted to smack him again. “There won’t be. At least not at school anyway.”

“You shouldn’t be messed up with this.” I dropped my face into my hands so that my words were muffled but still loud enough for him to hear. “You should know better. You’re too smart for this shit.”

“This shit?” This time I heard him chuckle but I chose to ignore it. “Besides, Ms. C., you have to say that. You’re my teacher.”

I let my hands fall to my lap, “Maybe I have to say it, but it’s also true. You’re brilliant, Jay. You could use that brain power for good.”

“Not where I’m from.”

“So move! Graduate from high school and move away. That neighborhood doesn’t define you. This city doesn’t define you. That’s something you get to decide. That’s your choice.”

His jaw clenched again and I started to worry I was pushing him too hard. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is,” I promised him. “Talk to Ms. Chase about the opportunities there are for you in school. Talk to her about the ways to pay for it, the financial aid that’s available to you. Especially you, Jay.”

He didn’t say anything for a really long time and when he did, it wasn’t exactly reassuring, but it was better than nothing. “Maybe.”

“That’s all I ask,” I gave him a shaky smile. “And that you survive this year.”

“I can say definitely to that,” he grinned back. “What about you, though? You going to be all right?”

I looked down at my trembling hands. “I think so. I need a stiff drink, but I think I’ll be okay.” I looked up at him quickly. “I mean, coffee. I need a strong cup of coffee.”

White teeth gleamed at me in the hallway. “I didn’t mean after today. I mean are you going to survive whatever shit you’re going through.”

My eyes narrowed suspiciously, “How do you know I’m going through shit?”

He made a scoffing sound, “Anyone that sees you can tell you’re going through something deep. You’re always looking off into space and trying not to cry. You’re a mess, Ms. C.”

I smiled grimly against his honest assessment. “I’m going through a divorce.”

“He beat you?”

“God, no.” I started to ask him why he would think that but stopped myself. That abuse was his first guess said something about his home life I was positive he would never share with me. “We just… we don’t get along.”

“Boo hoo,” Jay taunted. “I don’t know one married couple that does get along.” He bounced his heel on the gritty tile floor. “Come to think of it, though, I don’t know many married couples.”

“Your parents aren’t married?”

“It’s just me and my moms. Never met my dad.”

I nodded to acknowledge that I’d heard him. When I put my life in perspective with Jay’s, he was right. Boo hoo. He came from extreme poverty, had never met his dad and seemed awfully quick to recover from having his life threatened.

My problems were small.

Nick and my problems were small.

The bell rang and I stood up to my feet, brushing the back of my pants off. I speared Jay with my most serious glare. “Go talk to Ms. Chase, Jay. Ask about college. Be the one thing in my life that goes right.”

He grinned up at me from the floor, looking more like a little boy than a soon-to-be man. “Okay, Carter. It’s the least I can do for saving my life.”

I turned around and threw over my shoulder, “He wouldn’t have killed you on school property.”

He didn’t respond and that only made me more nervous. I stepped inside my classroom, blinking against the bright fluorescent lights. I raced for my chair so I could sit down again. A few tears slid down my cheeks, but I quickly wiped them away.

Students started to drift into the classroom and I had to hold myself together.

I had to.

Besides, all I had to do was administer a test. I could sit at my desk for the rest of the class and freak out as much as I needed to.

I knew I wouldn’t keep this a secret. I would have to go to Kellar with it. But, I also knew that Andre hadn’t been lying. We would never find that knife. I also knew that Jay was as likely to turn Andre in as Andre was. Nobody would back up my story.

Kellar would believe me, but there was nothing we could do.

And I wouldn’t risk trying to punish Andre with a suspension because I was too afraid of how he would retaliate.

I settled my students down and passed out the final exam. This was my sophomore class and the only class I had this year that I felt confident they’d actually learned something.

As soon as they’d begun I sat back down, unable to support myself on legs made out of jelly. My hands still shook and my stomach felt very near the edge of upheaving itself.