Page 98 of Best Frenemies

I am in full-on beratement mode as I swiftly walk toward the nearest subway stop.

A deep sigh escapes my lungs, and it’s loud enough to earn a few curious stares from my fellow pedestrians. All I can do is briefly shut my eyes and wonder how everything got so messed up.

I’m a do-er. An achiever. I’m organized and always stay on top of my responsibilities.

And I’m a planner. A thorough planner who doesn’t leave anything up to chance.

Yet, today’s big Career Day for the students that I was in charge of was an absolute disaster.

You only have yourself to blame.

I can’t deny that. I didn’t put in the time and effort to know each guest who was there to speak today. I should’ve been aware that Brooke Baker has a service dog because of a medical condition that makes her a risk for passing out. Not to mention, she’sverypregnant. In her third trimester, actually.

I should’ve made sure she had a chair to sit down in while speaking. I should’ve had the school nurse available at the assembly in case anything went wrong.

Luckily, she’s okay and nothing tragic happened, but I can’t help but carry most of the weight of today’s chaos on my shoulders. I mean, one of my speakers passed out on stage, peed herself, and had to be assessed by paramedics all because I took zero precautions to prevent it.

If that isn’t an outright failure on my part, I don’t know what is.

Not to mention, Career Day isn’t the only thing I’ve been failing in lately. I have about two weeks’ worth of papers to grade. My lesson plans are the opposite of planned. And my students have had the sad reality of a distracted teacher ever since I got back from Destin.

I’m dropping the ball. Actually, scratch that. I am the ball, and I am wrecking every-freaking-thing. Instead of being focused on my career and the well-being of my students, I’ve been too busy thinking about Mack and our hot sex.

Ever since my whirlwind vacation, I’ve been anything but myself.

Three days ago, I got frisky with him on school grounds, for goodness’ sake! In a place of education, I did everything but climb up him like a flagpole and hump his brains out. Last week, I sent him dirty text messages while my students took a pop quiz!

I did everything but what a teacher should be doing.

Goodness, I knew this wasn’t a good idea, engaging in some kind of fling with Mack Houston. I knew it, and yet, I willingly drove down his highway of fun at a hundred miles per hour, ignoring every giant red flag I sped by.

You certainly let your heart get a little involved, that’s for dang sure.

What did I think was going to happen? That our sexy fling was going to turn serious, and we were going to fall in love and get married and have some kind of happily ever after?

Mack Houston isn’t that kind of guy.

Is he fun and sexy and exciting? Yes, I can’t deny that.

But he’s not the guy you settle down with. He’s the equivalent of playing with fire, and you get burned. Hell, the man has a history of notating women in his phone by the places he’s met them because of how many women he’s dated in the past.

I inhale a sharp breath through my nose.Way to go, Katy.

My phone pings as I’m heading down the stairs of the subway station, and I pull it out to check the screen.

Mack: I just got to your classroom after I finished dismissal duty, and you’re already gone. Why’d you leave in such a rush today, babe? Are you okay?

This is the third text message he’s sent me since the Career Day disaster went down, and I’m too busy licking my wounds of embarrassment to text him back.

Am I okay? No, I’m not okay.

I fear that my students are traumatized, and they all went home from school today thinking about anything but their future careers. At one point, half the students were convinced Brooke Baker died on the stage. Thankfully, she only passed out, and the paramedics even cleared her to go home.

Though, I didn’t get to witness that because I was too busy puking up what little I ate today in the restroom. Truth be told, I’m still nauseated as hell from what I’m assuming is the utter failure I provided.

And Mack is right. I did leave school in a hurry. Once the bell rang and I successfully ensured all of my students were packed up and heading down the hallway, I grabbed my purse, locked up my classroom, and left before I had to talk to anyone.

I can only imagine the earful I’m going to get from Principal Dana Monday morning in our faculty meeting. She’s most certainly going to ream my ass for what went down in the auditorium this afternoon.

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