Page 70 of Love Takes Home

“Who?” Ginny asks.

“Lucas.”

“Haven’t seen him. What happened? Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine. But we know he’s in here. What did you do with him?” That sounds like Troy.

“I didn’t do anything with him and you need to leave my classroom.”

“We don’t have to do anything. We know he’s in here.”

“Boys, what’s going on?” Coach Brown asks. “Ms. Mills?”

Ginny replies, “I don’t know what’s going on. They are looking for Lucas and he’s not in here.”

“Is that so? Then you wouldn’t mind me looking around?”

“Go ahead.”

What?Why would she do that to me?

I hear him moving around the room. Something hits the floor.

“So sorry about that,” Coach Brown says, not sounding sorry at all. Ginny doesn’t respond.

I hear other small things crash to the floor. Is he pulling out desk drawers? When the third small crash happens, I’m ready to bust out of here. He’s going to trash her room.

“Mr. Brown. I don’t think a six-foot-tall fifteen-year-old is going to fit in my desk drawers, do you?”

“Just turning over every possibility. What’s in the closet?”

“Instruments.”

I hear his steps getting closer and he tries the handle, but it doesn’t open.

“Unlock this.”

“I don’t have my key with me today. Besides, how would I have had the time to open it before you got in here?”

“This might be true. You aren’t the fastest, are you? It’s the extra weight you’ve put on since…June, right?”

I hate this man. So much.

“Actually, I lost about two-hundred, two-twenty-five since then.”

“I don’t weigh—” he cuts himself off.

“You can destroy my classroom. You can insult me. But you won’t get a rise out of me, Mr. Brown. I suggest you leave my classroom, much like I asked your little crew to do.”

“You have no say in this room. I thought I made that clear the other night.”

“Ohhh, Mr. Brown and Ms. Mills got freaky in the music room. Wait until the other kids hear about this,” one of the guys says.

“That’s not—that didn’t.” He looks at the boys like they are nothing but a problem. Exacerbated, he huffs. It’s his wimpy version of a growl. “Fine. We’re leaving. Keep looking for him, boys. Let’s go. Ms. Mills, I’ve got my eyes on you.”

“Have a great day, Mr. Brown.”

I hear everyone leave and then the door close.

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