Those soft lips snapped shut quickly enough, however, when he continued.
“That said, the faculty’s dress code appears to have escaped you. Today’s outfit is appropriate and very, uh, becoming—”
Shit.
“—um, becomingfor a professional teacher.” There. Saved it. No room for misinterpretation. “But your clothing at the faculty meeting did not meet the standards set by school guidelines. No jeans, except on Denim Fridays, and all garments worn by teachers must be clean.”
Since her eyes were currently narrowed slits of hazel affront, he was smart enough not to mention the faculty meeting’s droopy buns. Those could wait for a debriefing session later in the week.
In the spirit of tearing off a bandage as quickly as possible, he continued hastily, before her glare lasered actual holes through his skull. “The contents of today’s lecture, while fascinating and well-presented, also put you at risk for student and parental complaints. The topic was, in short, overly macabre and ghoulish. I would suggest you pick more school-appropriate topics in the future.”
One of her pale eyebrows arched high. “Would you?”
She’d settled back in her chair, affront replaced by steely calm.
The expression bolted down his spine in a way he couldn’t interpret. Was that electric jolt warning him he’d erred somehow? Was it a visceral response to the challenge betrayed by her pugnacious, upturned chin and haughty stare? Was it because, beneath that witchy, alluring dress, her plump thighs had shifted and rubbed—
No, it wasn’t excitement. Professional evaluations did not prompt passion of any sort. Not for him, anyway.
If his tie suddenly constricted his breath, he’d merely fastened it a bit too tightly that morning. The prickling heat spreading lower and lower, making his button-down tease against every nerve ending his skin possessed, was simply the result of the school’s inadequate HVAC system. Nothing more.
His throat might be dry, but he would remain entirely businesslike.
“I also believe you left the student diorama assignment too open-ended, given the limited time available for this unit. You might consider providing a handout of preapproved topics in the future.” That was the last item on today’s list, but he continued looking down at his legal pad. “Finally, I inadvertently insulted both you and your work last week. My remark was rude and uncollegial.”
After sketching a tiny, perfect cube on the edge of his paper, he continued. “Furthermore, my study of your work today elucidated my comment’s essential injustice. I might consider the subject matter disturbing, but it was quite evident why consumers would pay a great deal of money to possess such a wondrous, meticulous piece of artistry.”
Two squared is four. Two cubed is eight. Two to the fourth power is sixteen.
He raised an expressionless face. “Please accept my sincere apologies.”
Her face had also turned unreadable, but at least she wasn’t openly scowling at him anymore. As always, small victories.
After a lengthy pause, she spoke slowly. “I’ll address your feedback one topic at a time, if that’s acceptable to you?”
He gave her a jerky nod, and somehow he already knew.
By the end of this conversation, he’d feel like a fool once more.
“Last Tuesday, the day of the faculty meeting, my students were making papier-mâché masks using paper plates, aluminum foil, hot glue guns, newspapers, flour, water, and paint. I defy anyone to oversee the making of those masks without finding their clothing soiled in some fashion, protective apron be damned.” Her lips tilted up in a little, satisfied smile, a silent warning that this entire conversation was only going to get worse for him. “More importantly, if you’d consulted with Principal Dunn, you’d have discovered that we already discussed the issue of appropriate clothing and came to a mutual agreement on the matter.”
Yes. This was definitely worse.
“On days like today, when I’m lecturing and likely to remain clean, I follow the standard dress code.” She swept a hand downward, indicating her current outfit. “On days when my clothing is likely to get stained, I’m allowed to wear jeans and more casual tops. Because, as we both concluded, asking me to replenish my work wardrobe every time an item became slightly soiled was both unreasonable and cost-prohibitive.”
No amount of exponential multiplication was going to save him now. “It appears I owe you another ap—”
“If I were you, I’d save further apologies until we’re finished,” she interrupted, still smiling. “You might as well beg forgiveness for everything at once. For the sake of efficiency, which I know is of the utmost importance to you.”
Shit.Worseappeared to be an understatement.
“Now onto your next critique, concerning the inappropriateness of today’s lesson.” She ticked off her multipart response on her fingers. “First, inappropriateness is very much a subjective matter. I’m surprised a man like you, who seems to prize objectivity, would use such a nebulous, essentially undefinable concept as part of your feedback. Second, I ran the unit and its contents by Principal Dunn before the school year even began. She gave her approval. She did so because, third, I sent a letter home to the parents and guardians of my students weeks ago, one that described this week’s topic in detail and required their signatures for student participation.”
How he’d fucked up so badly, he couldn’t even say. All he could do was keep listening, silent, as she enumerated the flaws in his conclusions.
“As far as listing a set of preapproved diorama topics—I agree such a list would contribute to greater efficiency in my classroom.” She leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “But it would detract from the actual experience of making art, which is as much about the creative process as it is about the final result. I want my students to find topics that speak to them on an individual level, and I certainly don’t know them well enough to be able to predict the contents of their hearts or the subjects that consume their innermost thoughts. I’m happy to guide them if they have difficulty choosing a topic, but I don’t want to prematurely limit the expanse of their imaginations.”
It all sounded like chaos to him. Total and complete chaos.
