Page 21 of Just a Little White Lie

“Because we’re a little pushed for time”—he checks his watch and starts walking even faster—“I won’t be able to show you the intricacies of our online system, so just note everything down on a sheet of paper and I’ll get one of our IT guys to fill in the information for you today. Actually, I’ll most likely be calling on you again, so I should probably ensure you get a training session. I’ll arrange for you to do that during your lunch break.”

Great. I’m losing my lunch break already?

“I’ll be calling on you frequently, I imagine. We just had two teachers resign a few weeks ago, and we’ve been scrambling ever since.”

“That’s early in the year.” I frown.

“Yes, well, they started, thinking they were staying, but then an opportunity to teach overseas popped up, and they jumped at the chance. They were married, so we lost two instead of one. You’ve taught overseas, so I’m sure you understand the allure.”

I nod and force a smile, not wanting to say anything because the guy is obviously unimpressed by this couple’s choices.

“The truth is I’ve got a special assignment for you.” He looks at me sideways and grins. “I’m hoping you’re available to teach all this week, and if that goes well, then we’ll look at hiring you on for the rest of the term.”

The knots in my stomach tighten enough to give me cramps, and my steps nearly falter.

A special assignment? Yeah, so I’m hating the sound of that.

“As you may have heard, Haven Academy doesn’t just cater to the region’s elite. We also accommodate a handful of students who are in need of special care and assistance. They come from family situations that are… how do I say this?”

I swallow.

“Let’s just infer that they’re safer in this school where they can get properly fed and cared for.” He stops at the top of a set of stairs and turns to me. His efficient, businesslike expression drops for a moment, his eyes crinkling with compassion. “They need this place, this chance… however, it’s challenging for them. Many of them come here with emotional issues and find it hard to fit in.”

I nearly scoff. No kidding! They’re expected to walk around with a bunch of rich kids who probably have zero understanding of their lives.

“Unfortunately, a few of them can be very disruptive, and it’s causing problems in the classroom.” He starts moving down the stairwell, and suddenly I don’t want to follow him.

He’s about to lump me with a crappy assignment. Flashes of nightmare teaching sessions in London torment me. Spitballs hitting my face as the class points and laughs at the teacher who can’t even get them to sit down and shut up.

My day is going to be hell. I can already feel it.

“Some of the teachers are refusing to have them, so we need a temporary solution to give the teachers a reprieve.” He stops walking when he notices I’m not right behind him.

Beckoning me with his hand, he urges me forward, and I follow on stiff legs that are fighting me every step of the way.

“When I saw your résumé on the weekend, I could have cried with relief. It gave me the idea I’ve been searching for. Thankfully, Helen approves, so we’ve been given the green light.” He keeps walking and throws another comment over his shoulder. “Helen Kwan is our principal.”

I force a smile that probably makes me look like a crazy psycho. “So, what’s this, uh… what did you see on my résumé?”

“Well.” He smooths down his tie, looking all impressed with himself. “Your dance experience.”

I stutter to a stop. “Excuse me?”

What dance experience?

I never put that on my résumé!

Wait, did I?

I scramble for memories of typing those words, but the drunken haze surrounding that night is clouding out the details.Did I honestly put dance experience? What was I thinking?

Erik is oblivious to my internal meltdown and keeps talking.

“You can teach dance. These kids could use a physical activity that isn’t sport. Most of them are talented athletes, and they already do PE, but it doesn’t always go over so well, especially having to interact with an entire class. But I think a small dance group might be the answer.” He lifts his finger into the air and shows off a couple dimples. “Dancing and music. They’re a whole other ball game. We can reach them on a new level, through a different medium. And now that I’ve found you, we can give these kids an outlet, which will go toward their NCEA, and give my harried teachers a daily breather. It’s a win-win.”

“Dancing.” I choke out the word.

I’m not a dance teacher! What. The. Hell am I going to do?

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