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“I don’t want riffraff hanging around the school, Miss Reed.”
“You mean students?” I narrow my eyes at him as I clamp my hands in an effort not to make a move I’ll regret. When he doesn’t answer, I draw in a breath. “And if I can get their grades up?”
“No. You start that then everyone will want a program. We can’t. I know you’ve been doing a few things and that stops. No more staying after the bell to help those kids. I feel for them, I do, but we’re not their parents. Consider this your first and final warning. Dismissed.”
* * *
“Fucker.” I pull out my phone and call Jay, but there’s no answer and this time it rings but goes to voicemail. I shoot a text, too, which is his preferred mode of communication—it also annoys the hell out of me, I hate texting, and tuck my phone away.
Honestly, I wish my brother and his wife weren’t off gallivanting as usual. Then again, why not when they’ve got full time care in the form of me at home?
Stomping down the school steps I cut across the lawn to the parking lot and wave at Josie, who’s leaning against my car. The art teacher is new enough to be considered totally new. She’d been hired directly after graduating with an art degree. Honestly, she probably could have gone to work anywhere, but came here instead. She’s that good. I’ve seen her portfolio. “How did it go with Peabody?”
“He somehow managed to live. Even though he didn’t deserve at least a light maiming.”
She sighs and adjusts her bright, sunshine yellow oversized leather tote with bright primary flowers sewn on. She’s red-headed, shorter than me by serval inches, and full of energy. She’s also become a friend who I’ve told about my plans I wanted to put in place for students at the school who need help. “Turned it down? Motherducker.”
“Ducker or not, he is the big boss and it’s dead in the water according to him.”
Josie takes my extra bag full of homework to be marked and plonks it down so I can find my keys. “And according to you?”
“Dead my ass. I’m doing it.”
“I’m still helping.”
“Josie, he gave me a first and final warning, and he’s looking to cull the ranks. I’m not putting your job on the line.”
“C’mon, Nadia, we’re already understaffed and—”
“He’ll can us both and make everyone work more. Or just make bigger classes.”
“Shizz.”
“Yup.” Diego pops into my head just as I find my keys. “Shizz is right. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”
* * *
I crick my neck about four hours later, my stomach rumbling and in need of something harder than water.
Homework’s done, budgeting is done, and I think I have a plan. Early mornings. I’ll chat to the students tomorrow. Early mornings away from school grounds. It’s dodgy, shaded gray but I don’t know what else to do to make it work.
And nothing from Jay.
I get up and haunt the door of his room at the back of the house. It’s a mess in the way that teens seem to corner the market on, but whenever I try and pick up, he gets furious. Claims I’m invading his space.
He’s changed. Lately, it’s gotten worse. So much worse. Goddamn my fucking brother and his wife. I love my nephew, but I blame them for the way he’s acting. I mean I get his acting out. I do. But my brother is going about this in all the wrong ways. He wanted to build a name away from our dad’s, and he gets to go all over the place on business trips and his wife, Regina, is on one of her endless health getaways, which is her right. But what about their child?
I take a breath because in the state I’m in, I’m liable to blow some kind of gasket. That or have an aneurysm.
Closing my eyes, heart hurting, I lean my forehead against the doorframe. There are still whiffs of the cheap knock off cologne Jay took to wearing that I breathe in. They’re a reminder of other days, sweeter, more innocent.
Right before he started hanging out with the wrong kids, and getting messed up in things he shouldn’t.
Missing school.
Getting ink.
Staying out all night.
