Page 109 of The Academy
“When she finished, I applauded and she said, ‘I grew up in Wisconsin but it was only when I came to Tiffin that I found my home.’”
Cordelia wipes away her tears. “So that was it, then? Your interaction with Cinnamon Peters was why we were ranked so high?”
“Well, you also sent eight students to the Ivy League last year, your grounds are fastidiously maintained, I love that you have your own beach—that was new since my previous visit. Your student newspaper still comes out in newsprint; I gave extra points for that, being a journalist myself.” Philip pauses. “And at the dining hall, I had a roasted turkey sandwich with green apple slaw on homemade focaccia that might count as the best sandwich I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
“If you’d come on wood-fired pizza Friday,” Cordelia says, “you might have ranked us number one.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Philip Jennings says. “Old Bennington is hard to beat.”
But not impossible!Cordelia thinks.
She and Philip Jennings take a moment side by side at the window as, down below, the Class of 2026 cheeses for the camera.
“Such attractive kids, every single one of them,” Philip Jennings says. “It’s uncanny.”
Cordelia takes Philip by the arm. “Let me walk you out,” she says.
After Philip leaves—he wants to do a quick walkaround and hit the Paddock for lunch (obviously)—Cordelia hurries to meet Audre, who is walking from Jewel Pond back to the Manse.
“You’re never going to guess what just happened,” Cordelia says.
“I’m going to have to guess later,” Audre says. “Roy Ewanick just called me.”
“Calledyou?” Cordelia says. Roy Ewanick owns the last flip phone in America and barely knows how to use it.
“Yes,” Audre says. “He wants to meet with me, pronto.”
“Is the impossible happening?” Cordelia says. “Has Roy Ewanick finally decided to retire?”
This is Audre’s assumption. Roy Ewanick is the last of the old guard. Doc Bellamy retired last year; he and Roy were great friends. Maybe Roy Ewanick found he was too lonely without Doc and was leaving, despite his vow to teach at Tiffin until the day he died.
Roy is already sitting in Audre’s office when she arrives, his flip phone on the desk in front of him. When she enters, he stands. Roy has lovely manners that way, and he always wears a coat and tie when he teaches. Today’s jacket is brown tweed, which is a bit at odds with the balmy weather.
“Good morning, Roy,” Audre says. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Mentally, Audre is already in hiring mode. She’ll reach out to her friend Tamoy Wilbur, who chairs the math department at Spelman College.Feel free to send me your best prospects… as long as they don’t mind living and working in the middle of nowhere.
Roy opens his phone and slides it across the desk to Audre. “I check my messages only periodically. This one is from young Eastman, sent yesterday afternoon at quarter past five.”
Audre reads the message:Miss Bergeron appeared in my room uninvited and she won’t leave. I think she’s drunk.
Good lord,Audre thinks. Did Simone Bergeron get drunk on her Sunday (against the rules) and then barge into East’s room (allowed only in certain circumstances)? She must have had a reason. She’s East’s history teacher; maybe he owed her an assignment? Maybe she’d requested it via email but hadn’t heard back?
“There’s another thing,” Roy Ewanick says. “A voice memo.”
Yes, Audre sees it, though navigating Roy’s phone is like trying to readBeowulfin Old English. She clicks onVoicememo1and hears East and Simone talking.I have more power,Audre hears Simone say.I’m a teacher at this school and you’re a student. I will go to Ms. Robinson and tell her everything and see that you’re expelled.
You’ll tell her what? That we kissed? That we fooled around in your classroom? That you brought a bottle of wine up here and drank it with me over spring break?
That you sneaked into my room back in the fall!Simone says.You’re the one who set this whole thing between you and me in motion.
But you let it happen. And, like you said, you’re a teacher and I’m a student.
Nooooo,Audre thinks. But yes, undeniably yes. She’s embarrassed to meet Roy’s eyes.
“Do you mind if I forward this voice memo to my own phone?” Audre asks. “I’ll need to have it when I speak to Miss Bergeron.”
Roy waves a hand. “Do what you must,” he says, then he stands with a chuckle. “I don’t envy you your job, Audre. Good luck.”
When Simone arrives, she’s as put together as she was on the day of her final interview the summer before: pencil skirt, blouse, kitten heels, braids wound into a bun. Lipstick. Audre sighs.If only she’d been this professional all year long.
