Page 9 of Stay Toxic

“Holy shit,” Coach Shepherd said. “You should probably cut the feed.”

“Oh, sure…” Casey said. “But I don’t have the ability to access the page. Only Ms. Goodman has control over it besides Cal. And Cal’s lookin’ kind of horrified. I doubt he even remembers he’s recording.”

“Holy fuck,” Coach Shepherd groaned. “Look at the number of watchers right now.”

I did, seeing that there were forty-eight thousand watchers.

It was understandable, really, because West Dallas had done so well at that tournament that they’d then gone on toGood Morning America, and several other daytime television news programs. They’d garnered quite the following.

“Oh, my god,” Casey breathed. “Look, it just keeps going up!”

I swallowed hard as I watched it reach eighty thousand viewers.

“I’m just gonna…” I stepped away from the phone.

I couldn’t watch anymore.

Couldn’t really breathe, either.

Years.

I’d spent four years with his man.

Jolessa, my so-called best friend, had set us up on a blind date.

I’d been half in love with him by the end of it.

I’d been more than in love with him the next month when I found out he was the newest teacher at West Dallas High.

Ever since the day I’d asked him if he wanted to have lunch with me in the cafeteria, we’d been together.

We’d been happy.

At least, I’d thought we were.

Hours passed as I put on a fake smile and taught the rest of my classes.

I got a ton of pitying looks from the kids—all of them aware of who Principal Tomlinson was to me. Hell, most of them had classes taught by him at the beginning of their high school careers.

This was a hard blow for everyone, but most of all, me.

If I got one more “are you okay,” I was going to scream.

Luckily, my last class was a study period, so no one would miss me.

The moment I was free, I started my march toward the stupid trailers that housed administration.

All of the teachers that I passed gave me wide eyes and thumbs up, knowing exactly where I was headed.

“What that mouth do, baby?” a man holding a jackhammer up with his hips asked.

I turned my angry gaze to him, and I saw him swallow hard, realizing that I wasn’t one to be fucked with today.

My brothers liked to call it my “crazy eyes.”

Likely, they saw that I was about to lose it, and didn’t want anything to do with me.

I could only imagine what my face looked like right now. “Probably hurt your feelings, sir.”

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