Page 33 of The Teacher
More quietly this time, I say, “Jay?”
There’s no reply.
That’s so strange. I was sure I heard a noise that sounded like it was coming from right outside the door. I’m shocked that there isn’t somebody standing there. But it seems like I must have imagined it.
After all, there isn’t anyone out there.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
ADDIE
When I getto my locker at the end of the day, the lock has been cut.
I stare at it for a moment, my eyes bugging out. The lock is still hanging exactly where it was the last time I came to my locker, but the metal bar has been sliced by a lock cutter. I’ve heard the staff will sometimes do it if they think there are drugs in your locker, but I don’t know why anyone would think that about me.
But then when I open my locker, I know exactly who did this.
My locker is completely filled with shaving cream.
I gasp at the sheer quantity of shaving cream filling the locker. There are probably books and papers in there, and also my coat, but right now, it basically looks like a locker of shaving cream. If there’s anything I want in my locker, I’m going to have to stick my hands in and sift through what looks like three gallons worth of foam.
Several students have witnessed this spectacle, andbased on the number of giggles, it’s apparently hilarious. I don’t have to guess why this was done to me. Kenzie has made enough snide comments in gym about shaving my legs, even though I’ve been diligently running a razor over my legs twice a week.
“Oh wow.” Before I even turn around, I know who the voice behind me belongs to. “I bet all that shaving cream will come in handy. Someone did you a huge favor.”
I blink the tears from my eyes before I turn around to look at Kenzie. She and Bella are watching me at my locker, drawing closer than any other student dares to get. How long have they been standing here and waiting for me to witness this disaster? I should feel sorry for them that their lives are so small, but I don’t. I mostly just feel sorry for myself.
Why is Kenzie doing this to me? Is she jealous because she thinks Hudson likes me better than her? That’s clearly not the case. He’s datingher. If he has any lingering feelings for me, even as a friend, that would be a big surprise to me. He won’t evenspeakto me.
A crowd has gathered around me now. Everyone is watching to see what I’ll do next. Really, they’re watching and feeling glad that they aren’t the ones with a locker filled with shaving cream. Nobody wants to be on Kenzie Montgomery’s bad side. Yet here I am, and I don’t even know what I did to get here.
“Excuse me!” an adult voice rings out from the periphery of the crowd. Oh, thank God. “Will you please let me through right now?”
My momentary relief that there would finally be an adult who could help me deal with the situation vanishes when I see who has pushed her way through the crowd.It’s Mrs. Bennett—the worst possible person. And when she sees the contents of my locker, she looks decidedly pissed. Then again, I’ve never seen hernotlook pissed, so it’s hard to tell the difference.
“Addie!” she says sharply. “What is going on here?”
Kenzie hasn’t budged. You might think she has a lot of nerve, but really, she knows I’m not going to rat her out. That would be social suicide, especially if I did it in front of everyone else. If I have any chance of coming back from something like this, it will vanish if I tell on her now. And anyway, she’ll just deny it, and everyone will believe her instead of me.
Besides, I’ve got her house keys. I can get my revenge.
Mrs. Bennett folds her arms across her chest, waiting for my answer. “Addie…”
“I don’t know,” I finally say. “I guess someone put shaving cream in my locker.”
“Who?” she presses me.
I shrug.
She tilts her head. “Really? You don’t have any idea whatsoever who might have broken into your locker and filled it with shaving cream?”
I shake my head slowly.
Mrs. Bennett looks around at the crowd of kids who have become an audience to my humiliation. “All of you. Go home.” Her beady eyes zero back in on me—a stark contrast from her husband’s kind brown eyes. “Andyou. Clean this up, Addie.”
Seriously, what is her problem? She is soharsh. And she is married to a freaking poet—the nicest teacher in the whole school. Why is she like this? Why is she always so mean?
But at least she gets the kids to stop gawking at me, so that’s something. Although Kenzie and her friends linger at the end of the row of lockers, still watching. I can hear their giggles as I contemplate my situation. Like, what am I supposed to do now that my locker is filled with shaving cream? I don’t even know how to begin to clean all this up. Not to mention the fact that my books are wrecked.
