Page 50 of Christmas Criminal

Her nostrils flare. "Well, that's no fun." She crosses her arms over her chest. "I was thinking more along the lines of spanking. Maybe a little bit of edging. Those seem like appropriate punishments."

"It's not a punishment if you enjoy it."

She shrugs. "I promise I'll play my part well. 'Oh, Mr. Monroe,pleasedon't leave chalk hand prints on my ass! Oh, Mr. Monroe, it'ssouncomfortable to be bent over your desk like this,'" she mocks, clasping her hands over her chest.

What I wouldn't give for a stick of chalk right now.

Her eyebrows raise when I place my hands on her shoulders, but her face falls when I twist her and direct her toward the fair. "Hank is waiting for you."

The fair isas crowded today as it was yesterday, and as we weave through the crowds of people, I find myself nodding and smiling to a slew of parents and kids I've taught over the past few years. Noelle walks with her arms crossed over her chest, glancing up at me every once in a while with an eye roll when I greet yet another person.

"Are you the town sweetheart or something?" she asks me, when I finally spot Hank's booth in the distance, a banner attached to the front with Snow Falls' district number on it. "How the hell do you knoweveryone?"

"I taught everyone's kids. That's how."

She scoffs. "I bet they all loved you, too."

"As long as they don't love me like Delia."

She crinkles her nose. "Yeah, that was gross."

"You know, I meant to ask you," she says, turning to me. "You were going on and on about speaking your truth the other day, yet you were hiding under the table right there with me. What's the deal? Why don't you speak your truth to Delia?"

I eye Hank's booth in the distance–he's happily talking to someone across the table from him and doesn't seem pressed for help.

So I turn to Noelle and let out a long breath. "Delia is unique. She was president of the PTA and you either love her or you hate her. And I just… honestly, don't want to get mixed up in any of that. I don't want to take sides and I don't want to make enemies with someone so involved in my job."

"Didn't her daughter graduate?"

"Yes. And she'sstilleverywhere I turn."

Noelle nods. "Have you told her you're not interested?"

"Yes, Noelle. I do practice what I preach." I shrug. "She does this thing where if you say something she doesn't like, she just kind of smiles at you. Like, she waits with this big grin on her face until you feel uncomfortable and then backtrack. So help me god, I know it's coming. I expect it. Yet she still gets me every time."

"So. She's a psychopath."

I laugh. "I don't know about that, but if you want to go ahead and get her committed somewhere, that'll be a great start."

"Maybe I can frame her for an egging."

I shake my head. "Noelle, you're just going to get yourself in trouble again."

She shrugs. "Maybe I'll just smile real big at Hank until he lets me go."

"Hey, if that works, go right ahead." I nod to the booth in the distance. "Come on, he's waiting for us."

She sighs and turns to follow me, pausing when she sees the booth in front of us. "Oh, for fuck's sake," she mutters. "Can you write 'Criminal' on my forehead and call it a day? This is downright–I don't know–ostentatious."

I can't help the laugh that escapes me. "Ostentatious?"

"Ostentatious," she confirms.

I shrug. "Sorry, already told Hank we'd help him out. Better put on that orange jumpsuit of yours and show up for the troubled youths of your hometown."

She grumbles, crossing her arms. I rest my hand on the back of her neck, gently guiding her forward. She shivers at the touch. "It's one day, Noelle. Besides, it'll make Hank really happy."

She lets out a long breath. "I hate Hank."