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I take in a shaky breath. “I should go.” I start to dig in my bag.
“On me.” He smiles like old times, and it makes something shift with unease in me.
Getting up, I lean down and kiss his smooth cheek. “You’re a good guy, Riff, glad we’re friends.”
I don’t give him time to insist on walking me home, I just head out the door and leave.
* * *
My phone rings way too early two mornings later when I’m getting ready to leave the house. Whoever it is doesn’t speak.
“Jay?”
No answer, just heavy breathing like whoever it is has a cold. Even so, a small thread of ice laces through my veins as heat pricks my skin.
“Jay?” Nothing, just the breathing. “Who is this?”
They hang up, and I check my phone, but it’s a private number.
“You don’t have time for this.”
I don’t, I’ve got an illicit class to run. And I shove it from my mind.
The day passes in a whirl of non-stop work, and though I’m late, barely, I think this will work. The kids like the idea of different venues for the classes.
A lot of it is babysitting, and I’m thinking if this goes well, I can get them to do jobs around my place in the afternoons, so they have somewhere to come, something to do, and their parents or whoever’s looking after them, don’t have to worry about sitters for the younger ones.
It’s high school, but I have a trickle-over from grades five and six from the elementary.
Jay came home at some point because there are dirty clothes on the floor. I washed and left them on the bed with some apples, bananas, and oranges, plus some quality protein bars for when he comes by again.
All the books say he’ll come back, but it still breaks me.
Maybe that’s why I devote so much time and energy to my special classes. This morning, I’ve got assignments for them. Small and hopefully fun but designed to help with math and spelling.
When the phone rings, I answer as I rush out the door. It’s Jay’s phone. “Jay—”
“Listen up, bitch. Leave Jay alone. Or we’ll teach you the meaning of obedience.” The voice on the other end threatens and hangs up before I can say another word. Not that I could.
I’m so shocked I almost drop the phone. I’m shaking hard. That wasn’t a kid. That was a man and I almost call Diego again, but he hasn’t called again and—grown woman, right?
I jump in my car and take off, only to be met with an empty, closed restaurant a friend said I can use a couple times a month, well . . .
Everything turns to lead.
It’s the little, round form of Peabody.
“Miss Reed. I warned you.”
“It’s my dime,” I say after a nanosecond of toying with denial. “And not on school property.”
“My students. You’re on unpaid suspension as of now.”
I stare at him, everything sinking. “But. . . you can’t.”
“Oh, I can. This program of yours has really brought out the sludge of this town. Gangs and bad eggs everywhere.”
The gang thing again. Riffraff. The unwanted. It’s the excuse the board has used against a proper program, what Peabody uses against me doing that on my dime, and now . . . now this.
