Page 25 of Apparently, I’m Torture

“Give Shawn a kiss for me,” Nikki crooned.

I scoffed and hung up. The last thing Shawn Jackson would ever want from me was a kiss.

I stood from my desk and surveyed the office, finding bowed backs and poorly postured teachers tapping away at their keyboards. Mia waved and picked up a tiny bottle, showing it to me while she smiled maniacally.

I was too frazzled to laugh.

“Mia, what are you doing?” I whispered, eyeing the small bottle of whisky. “If Shawn sees you with that he’s going to freak.”

She laughed and showed me a paper with printed boxes. “But if I don’t have my grog, how am I supposed to play boozy bingo?”

I moaned, leaned on her desk and studied the paper. “Take a shot every time Shawn says, ‘Miss Fares’. Mia.”

“The man is nothing if not predictable. We might as well have some fun with it.”

I lifted my glance and searched the office. He wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Have you seen him come in?”

“Nope, not yet. Why? What’s the plan? Are you going to back your ass into him until he finally agrees to bury the hatchet?”

I gave Mia a small curve of my lip, but I was too tightly wound to make it look genuine. “My computer isn’t working again. And I’m so behind. If I don’t get this fixed, I can’t get my work done.”

Mia’s eyes tracked my hand as I pressed it against my stomach. She stood from her chair and squeezed my upper arm. “Hey, it’s alright, we’ll figure this out. I’ll print a copy of the project plan so you can get started.”

I shook my head. “Shawn asked us to email all contacts from our department addresses, and I can’t get access to that either.”

“Yes, but you can make a list for when it is working.”

Acid swirled and danced inside me, burning my chest. “I could always take the subway back to South Bronx. My email should be working there.”

Mia frowned. “You shouldn’t have to go all the way there to access it. What about your phone?”

I opened the email app and showed it to Mia. I couldn’t get it to load there either. My password wasn’t working and I had no idea why.

Mia clucked her tongue. “What’s going on with you? You’ve become the Bermuda Triangle of technology.”

I palmed my eyelids and groaned. “I know. And Shawn isn’t even here yet. I was worried about being late for nothing. I can’t do anything until this is fixed.”

“Okay, let’s try and stay calm. Shawn isn’t here, but his right-hand man is.”

“Who’s the right-hand man?”

“Stacey.” Mia spat the name as if it was a sour gummy worm. The one candy she couldn’t stomach. “Who else?”

My brows knit together as I asked, “Do you know what’s going on with them?”

She shook her head. “For all I know, they’ve probably knocked boots by now. She was pretty into him back at Pace.”

“Ugh.” The swirling in my stomach rushed around in tight circles. “I have to sit down.” Mia gave me her chair and I sank into it gratefully. “What am I going to do? I need to get the merchandising organized within five weeks, Mrs Hernandez is hounding me for a tutor, and this module Trevor’s got me studying is going in one ear and out the other.”

“You’re not retaining anything?” she asked, her hand on my shoulder.

“No. The lessons are based on total crap, we know that. But I’m that bad a teacher that–”

“Lilly Fares, you are not a bad teacher. I never want to hear you say that again. Your kids love you.”

I let out another breath and started mumbling lyrics as Mia clucked her tongue. I was too frustrated, tired, anxious to argue with her. I just wanted things to start working so I could do my job.

I needed this to work. I needed it. If it didn’t, if I lost my job, I’d lose everything. My students, my classroom, the last piece I had of my mom. I’d eventually lose my apartment unless I found another position fast. But what school would hire a teacher who was fired for being bad at her job?