Page 69 of Taming His Teacher

We sit and pass the food around. Erin tucks in like it’s the most delicious food she’s ever had. That half-grateful, half-horrified feeling kicks in again. I can’t wait to get her out of here. She chats with my mom and tells her the food is really good. This is comfort, special-occasion food to me, but I don’t expect Erin to actually like it. She should be eating filet mignon and smelly cheese and things I don’t even know I don’t know about.

It’s been half an hour of awkwardness. We might get out of here unscathed, but that’s when my dad comes out of his food-consuming trance.

“So this’s yer girlfriend, Zach?”

Erin flinches the tiniest bit and I lay a hand on her thigh under the table. “Yeah, Dad.”

“She looks familiar.”

“I don’t know why, you’ve never met.” I’d made sure of it, steered my family away from any teachers or coaches or friends I could at graduation. It hadn’t been hard; only Caleb had wanted to be there. My mom had been awkward and intimidated, my dad angry and resentful. No, they haven’t met before.

He takes another bite of Jell-O. Maybe he’s let it drop. But then he looks up and points his fork at Erin.

“I remember you. Yer a teacher at Zach’s school.”

“I am.”

“No, you were.”

Erin blinks and I want to drag her out of here by the hair.

“This why you wanted to go back there, Zach? You could’ve been anything and you wanted to be a fucking teacher. Or, maybe, you wanted to fuck a teacher? S’that it?”

“It’s not like that.” I tighten my grip on Erin’s thigh and stare straight ahead, my voice quieter and less steady than I’d like it to be. A lifetime of my mother telling me,Stay out of it, Zach, it’s not your fight. Go to your room and don’t make it worsefloods back to me.

“Yer not stupid, Zach. Or at least that’s what errybody’s always telling me. You never seemed that fucking smart to me. Specially not if you managed to get pussywhipped into going back to that school. You could’ve been something, done something, but look at you. And trynna drag Caleb into it. Shame on you. Here I was, thinking you went to a faggot school. You think I’m gonna let you take the only son I have left and turn him into a prissy-ass cocksucker like you? No fucking way.”

My mom’s been spluttering over herself, apologizing to Erin and trying to get my dad to shut up. I want to shove Erin out the door and haul my brother back to our room to wedge ourselves between the beds until the fighting stops. I knew this was a bad idea. I never should’ve let her come here. I’m trapped and I can’t protect her. I’m a kid again and I can’t even protect myself. My dad rages on but I barely hear him. I’m too busy trying to figure out how to crawl under this table. Then there’s the most surprising sound in the world.

“Mr. Shepherd, Zach is a really fine man. He’s a wonderful teacher and a great coach. The boys love him, and he works hard. Hawthorn is fortunate he came back.”

“You would say that, Mrs. Fucking Robinson. Were you fucking my son while he was yer student? I should have you arrested for statutory rape.”

He’s stumbled over the word “statutory.” For some reason that brings my blood to a boil but I’m frozen.

“Of course not. Zach and I, we never—”

“Is that why yer so hot to have Caleb come up there? Zach getting a little old for your tastes?”

“Stop. Stop. Stop it. Stop it.” The words are coming out of my mouth but not loud enough for anyone to hear them. I can’t believe I’m letting Erin fight this battle all by herself while I stare at the tablecloth with the faded stains my mom’s never quite been able to scrub out.

“Zach wants Caleb to come to Hawthorn for the same reason he wanted to come to Hawthorn. Because it’s the best boys’ school in the country. Having a diploma from there will open doors for him. Doors that won’t be open if he stays in Shamokin. He’ll get into a good college.”

“So he can be another fucking teacher?”

“Maybe. If he wants. Or maybe he’ll want to be a lawyer, or a stockbroker or an architect. But in the meantime, he’ll meet a lot of important people. He’ll get a really good education. And not for nothing, but he’ll always have as much food as he can eat. He won’t want for anything. Zach is in a position to give that to him.”

That’s when my dad loses it. He knocks his chair back from the table and leans over, meaty palms planted on either side of the half-empty bowl of coleslaw to yell in her face. “Get the fuck out of my house, you uppity little bitch. You come into my home, eat my food, fuck my son, and you have the nerve to say I can’t provide for my family? Fuck you, you fucking cunt.”

That shakes me out of my stupor enough to grab her hand. “Erin, come on. Let’s go.”

“Zach—”

“No, it’s not worth it. He’s never going to change his mind no matter what you say. Or what I say. I can’t take this anymore. Please, let’s go.”

The stubborn set of her chin and the fire in her big brown eyes tells me she’s ready to go another few rounds with my asshole father. In that second I know I’m going to ask her to marry me.

My beautiful, sweet, supple girl with a spine of steel. She wants to stomp her tiny foot and scream back at him, but it would end badly, so I say quietly, “Come on, lamb. Be a good girl for me and let’s go.”

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