Page 57 of Taming His Teacher

“I was, but the good weather, the happy people—” She gives an exaggerated shiver. “They weren’t for me. Frosty New Englander at heart, I’m afraid. I jumped at the chance when they needed a mid-year replacement at Streeter. And Zach tells me he’s teaching on the Hill.”

She’s turned her gaze back to Shep and he looks away. She called him Zach. No one calls him Zach. Not here anyway, no one but me. It’s supposed to be our secret code. Did he ask her to? I’d say no, because he’s shoved his hands in his pockets and looks distinctly uncomfortable, but maybe because I’m here?

“I guess we’ll be seeing you at these things, then.” Streeter’s a girls’ school, so we don’t compete against them, and the less I see of Lana Davis the better. At my “we,” Lana cocks an eyebrow in my direction. Shep reaches out a hand, linking his pinky with mine. Lana’s eyes alight on our joined fingers and her eyebrow edges higher—as does my heart, back into my chest. With such a small motion he’s declared us. I squeeze, reveling in the pressure of his response.We.

* * *

Shep

Lana stays for a few more minutes, but her eyes keep darting to where my finger’s still looped with Erin’s.Look all you like, Miss Davis. You’re no Jedi, and when Erin said “we,” she meant it.Lana doesn’t approach either of us for the rest of the evening except to throw a wave while she’s herding the girls out the door. But whenever I’d look up, she’d be looking at me.

I’m no stranger to being looked at. Girls at school and women at the club had made no secret of thinking I was attractive. Some of the girls had been so aggressive it made me uncomfortable. But at the club there were rules they wouldn’t dare break—not if they wanted to keep coming, anyway—and that felt safer. Anytime someone’s feelings had moved beyond a crush, a preference to play with me, and a reminder I was just doing my job hadn’t worked, I knew Mordecai would be there.

The way Lana looks at me is different. I don’t like it and there’s no Mordecai or club rules standing in her way. Not to mention how her being here makes Erin feel. Erin’s a friendly girl but her look of panic when she saw Miss Davis talking to me makes me wonder if there’s a story there. I walk Erin back to her apartment after the dance is over but don’t come up because there’s a flood of guys around us, heading back to their rooms.

At the door in front of Sullivan, I take her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She nods, looking distracted, worried, so I squeeze to get her attention. “Erin. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

Her tight smile and too-chipper voice are pretty good indications she’s lying through her teeth. I give her hand a gentle shake. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fidelity was…not Will’s strong suit. He and Lana…”

Add being a cheating dickwad to the myriad reasons Will Chase is tied for first place on my personal shit list. The humiliation contorting Erin’s face makes me sorry I didn’t take her hint to drop it. I should’ve brought it up later, when we were alone.

“Okay, I get it. I’m sorry I asked you here. But don’t worry about Lana, okay? She’s not my type and even if she were, I’m not Will. I would never do that to you, I promise.”

She offers a wan smile. I wish I could take her in my lap and hold her until her insecurities drain away. Fucking dorms. There are a few stray guys hurrying across campus to make curfew but none nearby so I take a chance and lean down, brushing my lips by her ear. “I promise.”

Her smile in response is more vivid, but not as bright as I like to see. Tomorrow. I’ll fix it tomorrow. Before I can, though, I have a meeting with Headmaster Wilson.

Early the next morning while most of campus is sleeping off the night before, I rap on the door to the Headmaster’s office. His booming voice rumbles through the heavy paneled wood. “Come in, Mr. Shepherd.”

Mr. Shepherd? Have I done something wrong? Adolescent guilt squeezes my stomach but when I open the door, the Headmaster’s kicked back in his chair, his big hands folded across his midsection.

“Sorry, Shep. Force of habit. Have a seat. Coffee?”

“No. Thank you, sir.” I’m keyed up enough without caffeine. All I know is that I got an email earlier in the week saying he had some things he wanted to discuss with me. I’d be lying if it hasn’t been gnawing at the back of my brain for the past few days.

“I guess we’ll dive right in, then. First things first. You’re going to get an envelope in your faculty mailbox tomorrow morning offering you a permanent position here. If you’re willing, you’ll replace John Phelps in the math department and take over his coaching duties, too. It’s more responsibility than you’ve had as a fellow but it would be accompanied by a raise as well. I hope you’ll consider it.”

Consider it? Is he joking? “I don’t need to consider it, sir. I’m honored and I accept.”

It’s probably not the smartest idea to accept a job without reading the fine print, but to be honest I’d stay here if they stopped paying me altogether. As long as I’ve got a roof over my head, enough to eat, a job I love, and Erin, I’m good. I can’t wait to tell her. I love it when her face lights up because I’ve made her happy.

Headmaster Wilson smiles, satisfied. “Excellent. I’ll expect your signed contract handed in next week. And before you go enjoy your Sunday, there’s one more thing. I’ve been thinking about your brother.”

“Yes, sir.” I sit up straighter in the hard wooden chair, wondering if this is going to be good news or bad.

“Here’s the thing. I’m sure Caleb is a fine young man. You wouldn’t risk your reputation or that of the school’s by telling me that if the truth were otherwise. However…”

Shit. “However” is just a fancy word for “but.”

“However, I can’t in good conscience take him for next year. There have been a few knock-down, drag-out fights in Admissions already because we can’t take everyone. We’ve been flooded with applications this year. Up ten percent from last year, which is a wonderful problem to have. For everyone except all the qualified students we have to turn away.”

My jaw tightens, but that’s the only outward sign I give of how disappointed I am. I’d hoped this would be the year I could get Caleb out. I don’t know how much longer he can take living that life, in that house, without breaking and without becoming something he’s not. Angry, bitter, abusive. I’ll have to come up with another plan. Maybe go work at another school that’s not so competitive? Have him come live with me and send him to Hawthorn public schools? They’re way better than Shamokin. At least that would get him out of the house, away from our dad.

---