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Sayfuckfour times.
Accidentally wipe the board with the back of her yellow dress when she leaned against it. (She didn’t discover this, however, until a student in her second section discreetly pointed it out on her way out of class.)
When everyone had left the room, Allison fell back into her chair. Her stomach was tight and sour, and her body wrenched into knots.
She’d just proven to her students in at least a dozen different ways that she had no idea how to teach. She’d failed. It was a feeling so foreign Allison didn’t know how to sit with it. Her skin felt loose from her bones, and everything itched. Dragging her purse into her lap, she clawed through the junk in it (why did she have four tubes of the same lip gloss??), fighting hard to hold back the tears burning her eyes. There was no crying in baseball. Or teaching.
She needed Sophie. This day called for a major WCS list. It would be completely meta: a WCS for a WCS. And once they were done, when they’d envisioned all the scenarios, when they’d revealed every possible monster in the room, the unhinged feeling that had crept into Allison would disappear.
That’s how it worked. It was how it had always worked.
But when she found her phone, Allison was met with another WCS.
The worst one of all.
Unknown Number: I hope your first day of recitation went as great as mine!
There was only one other person Allison knew who had his first recitation this week, and though she was loath to admit it, she still recognized his number from when they’d dated.
Fucking Colin Benjamin.
Allison’s eyes sunk closed in frustration.
Allison Avery: How did you get this number?
Unknown Number: I took a chance that it hadn’t changed since Brown.
Unknown Number: Clearly, I was right.
Allison Avery: It was bound to happen once.
Unknown Number:
Allison dropped her phone on the conference table as if it had burned her and scowled. Emojis were for friends and flirting, not for him.
Unknown Number: So, did you blow all their minds? Are you Superteacher already?
Allison Avery: Why? Did you tank it?
Unknown Number: Don’t you wish.
Allison Avery: Like I waste that much time thinking about you.
Of course, that was all she’d done since their fight after Professor Frances’s class earlier in the week. Arguing with him was a fucking aphrodisiac and it made Allison want to strangle him.
But it also helped her to forget. And all she wanted right now was to erase the last two hours from her mind. If she didn’t have to thinkabout recitation, then she didn’t have to remember how badly she’d messed up.
For once, Colin Benjamin could be of some use.
A smile crept its way across her lips as she started typing. She’d show him Superteacher—even if it was fiction.
Allison Avery: Since you asked, my sections were
Allison Avery: The students were so engaged. They asked a ton of questions.
Allison Avery: We almost ran out of time.
It took him a few minutes to respond. Allison had packed her bag and was halfway down the hall when a new text came through.
