AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’re sure?” I ask, and he gives me a slightly impatient look. “Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me. I want to experience this with you. I’ve never been to a beach…” he pauses, “in Greece.”
“Me neither, but I’ve seen Santorini many times in pictures. It looks almost too beautiful to be real.”
“Perfect. And remember, I’m going to book two rooms. I don’t want to rush anything,” he says in a way that makes me feel fluttery, which I immediately feel guilty about because he must be devasted over his friend’s death. “Now I must go.”
“Sem, I’m here for you. Anytime, night or day, you need to talk. Just call me. The only time I can’t pick up is when I’m teaching. I’ll send you a message with the details for Santorini.”
“And I’ll count the hours until we meet.”
When I hang up, I send him the dates I’m free to go to Greece. I can’t believe this is going to happen. Although he may spend the whole holiday in mourning, at least I can see him and do something for him.
* * *
It’s lunch break, but I’m on cafeteria duty again. My colleague and I are supposed to share these lunch duties fifty-fifty, but she’s always coming up with excuses as to why she can’t do it. I’ve mentioned this to the principal several times, but he doesn’t take it seriously.
My stomach grumbles, but I forget all about my hunger when I see one of my students struggling to open her juice box. They’re all still so young, and little fingers struggle with cardboard straws into foil holes. I walk over to her and ask, “Do you need help?”
“Yes, Miss Ivy.”
I take the cardboard straw that’s almost been bent beyond use and reform it to put it back in the juice box. It takes about a minute, but I manage.
Another student asks me, “Miss Ivy, are you getting married?
I’m shocked by the question. “What do you know about marriage?” I ask kindly.
“My mother said all young, beautiful teachers get married and disappear.”
“Oh, she does,” I say with a smile. “Well, I’m happy to be called beautiful.” I think this will be the end of the conversation, but it’s not.
Another student says, “But Miss Tara isn’t beautiful, and she’s getting married.”
I don’t want the children to gossip about teachers, but I feel like there’s something I’m missing here. “What makes you think she’s getting married?”
He points to one of his classmates. “She saw the principal kissing her when she went to the office to get her medicine from the nurse.”
“I’m sure she saw nothing of the sort,” I say. “That’s enough talking for now. Eat your lunch, please.”
I walk away, and my mind has run off with this idea. Is this why she can’t do lunch duty because she’s in the principal’s office making out with him?
I join the third-grade teacher, a strict, ageless woman who taught me when I attended this same school. “Do you mind watching my students for a minute? I need to use the bathroom.”
“Everything okay, Ivy? You look pale.” She looks me over with a critical eye.
“I just need a minute.”
She nods, and I head directly to the principal’s office. When I enter, his secretary is gone, and all the administrative staff is elsewhere on their lunch breaks. I walk into the principal’s office without knocking, and I see Tara bent over the principal’s desk with her underwear around her ankles, her bare ass red from spanking, and Principal Fraser standing over her with a paddle that was used on students thirty years ago.
Our eyes all meet, and my mouth drops open.
“Ivy! Get out!”
“Is this why you can’t do lunch duty?” I ask, wishing I could say something better, but the scene before me is too overwhelming. No doubt I’ll be able to think of something I should’ve said this evening while falling asleep. “You can’t do this at work. You’re both disgusting. What if I had been a student?”
“Get out!” They yell again in unison, not even bothering to move from the uncompromising position.
I leave, but stop and then turn around and go to open the door again to take a photo. I realize it will be my word against theirs, but they already locked the door behind me. I immediately compose an email to the administration with what I had seen.
