Page 44 of Interpreter

Fucking Cal.

Tim takes a step back, but his eyes never leave mine.

“Good morning, Cal. Tim was just securing my necklace.”

Cal probably knows it’s bullshit, but maybe not. He only has a view of my back. Tim could have been working on clasping my necklace. It’s plausible.

“Oh, okay,” he says, still eyeing Tim who doesn’t even bother to look his way. “Are you guys eating in the cafeteria today? You haven’t been in a while.”

That’s because I’ve been bribing Gretchen to take my cafeteria duty. I wanted to sit with Oliver and Tim, and I didn’t think they would do well in the cafeteria.

“Umm… we’ll see. I’ve had a lot of papers to grade since you know—” I stop, forgetting that Tim doesn’t know I’m leaving at the end of the year. It’s true, I do have an atrocious amount of papers to grade, and with me job hunting after school, I have to squeeze it in elsewhere. Which is not at lunch. Or after school.

“Oh, yeah,” he says softly, like he too, forgot my job here is ending in less than a few months. “I’ll see you later then.”

I doubt it, but I agree and wish him a good day.

“Do you need me to help you grade papers?” Comes the sexy-ass voice.

I shrug. “It’s okay. I can do it.” He narrows his eyes, and it gets on my nerves. “Don’t give me that look, Mr. Lambros. I don’t need your help.”

But I could use it.

“I know you think I’m here because—well, I don’t know why you think I’m here—but I am here to work. I can do more than organize your cabinet and watch you teach. I can grade papers.”

His words are sincere, and I think he actually means it. Which I will certainly take him up on, but first, “Whyareyou here?”

He sighs. “Do you want my help or not?”

Today is not the day. I get that. I’ll bank that little question for another day. “Okay, yes, I would like your help grading papers.”

His jaw ticks and he nods, the playful Tim gone with Cal’s nosy interruption. “Show me what to do.”

And that was that. For the next two periods, Tim keeps his head down and his wrist busy grading papers. He doesn’t look up once. Not to watch me. Not to go to the bathroom. Nothing. Just grading papers. I have to say, I’m a little disappointed. But, hey, at least he’s catching up work that I seriously needed to get done.

By the time Oliver comes in, Tim is done with the stack I gave him.

“Wow, I thought that would take you the whole day,” I muse, signing my words so Oliver can see.

“I’m going to Ms. Peak’s room. Do you and Oliver want to join me?” is all he returns. I look for any signs of distress and come up empty. His eyes aren’t wide and crazy looking. He’s not frowning. He’s just… Tim.

“Umm… I really need to work on sign language with Oliver.” Not that I haven’t been, but I feel like I’m splitting my time between the two and it’s not fair to Oliver.

“I’ll help you.”

I choke. Legit choke on air right in front of Tim, who just gives me an annoyed look and pats me on the back.

“Don’t make this a big deal.”

Don’t make this a big deal. This is a huge freaking deal. Mr. I Hate Sign Language is agreeing to help Oliver learn it.

I clear my throat and look at the little boy already at Tim’s side, his small hand clasped in his. Ah hell. They hit me right in the ovaries.

“Please, Ms. Iglesias. Please can we go to the music room?”

I’m getting fired anyway. I might as well enjoy the last of my time here.

I nod. “Okay.”

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