Page 6 of Still Falling for You

He tugs at his waistcoat and nods even though it’s obvious he knows that’s not what I said. The atmosphere between us grows chillier.

‘I want to address one final point before I go,’ he adds haughtily. I wait for the other shoe to drop and brace myself for the impact. You could attempt to cut the tension in the room with a person-sized machete and still not hack through it. ‘I don’t have to remind you that you now represent not only me but also King George’s Academy. As a teacher, you are a role model. As such, tardiness or idleness is not going to be excused.’

That’s the final nail in my proverbial coffin. Even Jane, who is the bloody principal, let it slide on my first day, but Alex can’t. I guess we’re at the point of open hostility. From now on, it’s guns blazing, tripwires in corridors and sneaky laxatives in drinks.

Anyway, who uses the wordidlenessthese days? Who does he think he is? Jane Austen?

‘There was road maintenance,’ I force through my tense lips because I’m so livid I’m beyond making up semi-believable excuses.

‘How unfortunate,’ he whispers under his breath, but there’s no trace of emotion in his voice.

I grip the edge of the desk and accidentally bump into the coffee Jane made me in her office. The black liquid, still surprisingly hot, spills over the rim and scalds my hand. I ignore the burning pain in favour of the lava-hot anger that engulfs my insides. My mouth opens, teeth bared. The wild animal in me is ready to pounce, scratch his eyeballs out and feast on his entrails.

With satisfaction, I realise that for the first time today, Alex is anything but in control. His lips set into a thin, bloodless line. His eyes narrow with a challenge and he leans forward like he wants a front-row seat to whatever comes next.

I wait for something to spontaneously combust with the friction between us. Either I’ll become a human torch or the display behind me will catch fire like a sacrifice in a satanic ritual. I open my mouth, but before any words come out, someone knocks on the door.

A moment later, Jane walks in smiling, totally oblivious to the tension in the room. Immediately, my mood cools off like a switch was flicked. Inwardly, I shake my head at myself. Had I almost told my ECT mentor toeff offon my first day? I can’t afford to lose this job, no matter how much I can’t stand Alex Bennet.

‘How is our new ECT doing? I hope you don’t feel overwhelmed with all this new information. I bet Alex has been thorough,’ Jane says almost jovially. At the wordthorough, I cough. After an awkward pause, I nod. She looks between me and Alex before her gaze snags on the spilt coffee.

I notice Alex’s shoulders easing despite the awkwardness of the situation. Even being a complete stranger, it’s obvious he trusts her. I can’t quite decipher how it makes me feel as a bubble of mixed emotions lodges in my ribcage.

‘Am I needed elsewhere?’ His suddenly casual tone breaks the tense atmosphere with a single question like cracking the top of a crème brûlée.

‘I wondered whether you could join me for coffee so we could discuss budgets.’ Her smile stiffens fractionally as some wordless communication passes between them. I catch Alex’s frown of confusion before his face clears.

‘Of course. Budgets.’ He pushes to stand. Adjusting his grey trousers, he collects his things. He checks the time on his expensive-looking watch, his attention landing on me as an afterthought. ‘Make sure you test all your logins, and if there is anything you can’t access, let me know. The safeguarding link should be on your staff email.’

Jane leaves the classroom, and Alex makes to follow, but at the last second, his fingers freeze on the handle. My pulse starts racing when he turns around and heads back to me. I’m certain he’s about to tell me he’s never going to let me pass my ECT, but to my utter astonishment, he veers right at my desk and grabs a small controller from the top of the whiteboard. He taps it a few times and hot air starts blasting out of the air con unit attached to the ceiling.

I feel too stunned to react. He passes me the controller and our hands meet for the briefest moment. A bolt of electricity shoots up my arm. His lips pucker in distaste, and my ears turn hot at his expression. Without a word, he strides out of the classroom, leaving me aggravated, embarrassed and bothered.

3

When my body unfreezes, I slump in my chair. I didn’t realise how tense I was until now. I don’t have time to process what has just happened because the door opens again. Apparently, it’s turned into a revolving door at Currys during black Friday sales. This time it’s John and the black-haired woman who sat next to us. Before the door closes behind them, they’re trailed by Becky, the assistant SENCO.

‘Hey, we thought you might need some cheering up after spending half an hour with Mr Boss,’ John says over-familiarly, like we’ve known each other for years, swapped friendship bracelets and braided each other’s hair.

I immediately reach the conclusion that Alex doesn’t behave like he’s got a massive interactive board stuck up his arse only when with me, which is almost comforting. I get the feeling he’s not exactly popular here, which is in jarring contrast to the teenage Alex I knew. Despite keeping to himself in sixth form, he always managed to make the people around him like him.

‘We’ve brought refreshments.’ The black-haired woman shakes a packet of Tunnock’s teacakes in the air.

‘I say choose a seat,’ I answer with pretended joviality, but my hands are shaking from leftover adrenaline, so I clasp them together.

Five minutes later, I learn that the black-haired woman is called Danielle, that she’s a year-four teacher and we’ll be planning together with Alex.

They’re a lively bunch, and they gossip about people at school, dropping names that bear no meaning to me while they’re trying to explain who’s who. I’ve never been popular at school, so this sudden influx of friendly people wanting to talk to me makes me wary and suspicious, but I choose not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

‘He could occasionally stop being such a stuck-up pain-in-the-arse,’ Danielle drops in between two bites of her teacake,reverting to the topic of Alex.

Not for the first time, Becky defends him weakly. ‘He means well. He’s just goal-oriented.’

‘I think he’s a robot on the inside,’ Danielle says meanly. She gets crumbs everywhere, and the neat-freak person in me cringes at the mess on the desk.

‘Ignore her. Becky’s got a thing for Mr Boss.’ John nudges Becky, and she blushes to the roots of her chestnut hair.

‘I don’t,’ she says unconvincingly.

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