Page 151 of Can't Text This

I’ve never been late before.

I’ve also never been heartbroken before.

But here I am, doing both.

To say these last few days have been hard would be putting it mildly. I knew ending things with Robbie would hurt, but I didn’t anticipate the sleepless nights or desire for…well, nothing.

I thought I’d wallow for a day or two and that’d be it.

I didn’t think I’d be scrambling to get out the door and get to work on time because I spent most of the night staring at my phone trying to convince myself not to text or call or make every single type of social media account just so I can stalk him.

It’s official, I’ve gone insane.

Mad.

For him, at him.

Me, us.

Everything in between.

I am a complete and total mess right now.

After I finally talked myself down from my near leap into the dark abyss of social media, I made a plan.

Today, I am going to march into Principal Gladden’s office and tell him everything about Robbie and me, all of it—well, maybe not all the crazy sex parts, but still, most of it, and from the beginning.

I’ll tell him this won’t interfere with my job, I willnotplay favorites with Xavier, and we won’t let him know until he’s out of my classroom. And, if that’s not good enough, I’ll offer to move classes, or districts—anything. I willbegif I need to.

It’s kind of crazy, but I think it’ll work.

Robbie is worth the fight, whether he thinks so or not.

Denny’s standing at the door, holding my lunchbox out to me with a frown as I hastily make my way into the living room.

“I’ll kill him,” she says. “I’ll do it. I have no problem going to jail for my girl. I bet I can make a mean shank.”

“You’ve never seen a shank in your entire life.” I grab my lunch from her hands. “But thank you for the support. I appreciate it. I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”

She grabs my elbow as I go to pass.

“Denny, come on, I’m going to be late.”

Her eyes are filled with worry. “It’s going to be okay, Monty. I promise.”

“I know it will.”

She’s taken aback by my words, but I don’t give her the chance to question me, racing off to my car as fast as my feet will carry me.

The drive is quick, or rather,mydriving is quick, because I can’t be late.

I skid into the parking lot with just five minutes to spare, throwing my car into park, grabbing my bag, and racing toward the front door.

I barrel into my room and toss my things onto my desk just as the first student arrives.

Whew. I made it.

Coincidentally, it’s Xavier.

---