Page 28 of Wicked Scandal

There was always this feeling in my gut that she wasn’t a student. I just never could have imagined that she was right under my nose this entire time.

My instinct was right—Mrs. Jenkins is in trouble. She mentioned that her home life is rough and that her past stops her from leaving. I have to find out what she meant by that. If she’s in danger, I have to help her.

She said I might not like what I find when I unveil her identity, but boy was she wrong. Now that I know who she is, everything makes more sense. That pull I feel toward her every time we are in the same room. The way my eyes always seem to find hers. I think I would be devastated if it were anyone else. We have a bond that no one will ever understand. For the first time ever, I think I believe in fate. She may be my teacher, but we both know she has become so much more. These feelings started back when she was helping me with my essay, and they have only grown since. I should have known it was her the day I received a new follower after our chat about social media.

I pay for ads to boost my account, so it is typical that I get a lot of followers at once. However, when I am not running one, my followers stick out more. And I wasn't advertising that day.

I don’t know what it was that made me message her the second I saw that dragonfly tattoo, but even then it was like the universe wouldn’t allow me to ignore this person.

Mrs. J was helping me find a way to be more authentic when I wrote my letter. I needed to make the administration feel for my situation and not just prove my capability as a student. She asked me how I felt about social media since I spent so much time on there, then she listened as I went into a twenty-minute deep dive of why SnapTok is so important to me.

She never judged me or said that my dreams were pointless or shallow. Instead, Mrs. J looked at me with this smile on her face as if she envied the joy I could find in such a simple task. Then, a few hours later, I had a new follower that I could not help but talk to.

I would force myself to go a day between messages sometimes so that she didn’t think I was obsessed with her. But I thought about her every day. Except for the moments when I was in class with Mrs. J. That was the only time I didn’t find myself fixated and searching for this person. Which should have been another clue.

I get in my car and follow Mrs. J home. She must be flustered because I don’t think she notices me at all.

I overheard my dad talking about how Troy Jenkins is leaving town for a few days to attend the US Conference for Mayors. I know that this is beyond inappropriate, but I just need to see her so I can piece together all these emotions running through me.

I need to settle my nerves and hear her tell me that she’s not in any immediate danger and then come up with a plan from there. I’m not a wait-and-see kind of person. That’s why I’m going now, only minutes after she tried to tell me what happened in the parking lot didn’t happen.

I understood what she meant. She’s a teacher. If we were seen by anyone, she could lose her job. Not to mention the scandal it would cause for my father. He asked us all to keep our heads low, so I need to be careful about this.

I feel something for Mr. J, but if I know she will be safe these last few weeks or so of school, I might be able to stay away until I graduate and this is no longer a conflict of interest.

Well, at least it takes away one conflict. She is still married, after all. I need to figure out what her husband is holding over her. She said her home life wasn’t the best, so there has to be a reason she stays.

When I pull up to her house, I watch as the garage door slowly closes with her car inside. I pull up behind it and kill the engine, getting out immediately. Since the garage is already closed, and there isn’t a side door, I go to the front.

Without hesitation, I ring the doorbell. But I’m surprised when a man's voice comes over the camera facing me.

“Can I help you, young man?”

Fuck. I’m certain he’s out of town, probably out of the state by now. He must have gotten an alert on his phone when I pressed the button. That’s the only explanation.

Think fast, Wilder.

“Hi, Mayor Jenkins. I umm…I’m so sorry to drop by like this but I desperately need Mrs. Jenkins’s help with an assignment from class. We have a test tomorrow and in our study group we realized we forgot to ask about a vital part of symbolism in the text. We don’t want to risk our grades and scholarships so I volunteered to come ask in person.”

Please believe me. Please believe me.

Static comes through the speaker, followed by the sound of the door opening slowly. I’m met with wide, cautious eyes and I flash her back the same look.

Before I can say anything, Mrs. Jenkins hurries away, leaving the door open as her husband speaks again, and I do my best to pretend that I don’t see her there. “This is our private home, Wilder. If you need to speak to my wife, you can do so during school hours. This is highly inappropriate. Leave now before I alert the authorities and have you arrested for trespassing. How do you think your father would feel about that?”

This is the first time he’s ever called me by my name. Seems he’s starting to pay attention, which is probably a bad thing.

Mrs. Jenkins comes back holding up a small piece of paper while nodding her head to the right. “Under the camera,” she mouths the words, but I understand what she’s saying.

I reach under the camera where my arm is out of Mayor Jenkins’s sight, and I take the note from her.

“Yes, sir,” I tell Mr. Jenkins while facing the camera. “You’re right. I’ll ask her tomorrow before the test.”

I blow out a breath as the static cuts off, then tuck the note into my pocket quickly while rushing back to my car.

There is so much I wanted to say to that man, but I need to stay calm until I figure out exactly what is happening.

Drive your car to the guesthouse next door. It’s a separate driveway. No cameras there.

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