Taylor and I walked inside together. If anyone thought it strange, a young, single teacher walking side by side with a dropout in a sopping wet bikini top, I didn't care. Hell, thanks to her, my colleagues would think nothing of it, and all of her classmates were about to leave for good, and had bigger things on their minds, besides. Inside, there was a buzz of excitement, jubilant noise streaming from the fieldhouse doors ahead. As we reached them, however, Taylor stopped me with a hand on my wrist. I paused."You know, it's a damn shame we hated each other before we liked each other. We might've done good, ya know.""Maybe so.""Guess you can't reboot shit in the middle of it, though.""No, you sure can't."Her head tilted to the side. "You sure you don't want your present?""You mean the present isn't a work place where none of my coworkers or superiors can find any fault with anything I do?" Not exactly what I'd had on my wish list. Honestly, I'd thought it would be that, or else
I didn't bother to hide that I was reading over her shoulder. He says he'll take it. The recipient, according to the contact name at the top of the page, was Bitch, Stupid. "Taylor, huh. Does she know you have her saved like that?" She shook her head and pulled up another contact. "No, that's not Taylor, and no, she doesn't know. This is Taylor." Bitch, Boss. "If I enter them like that with the commas, they stay side by side. Convenient." "Dare I ask what you have me saved as?" She smiled, scrolling down through her contacts and finally tapping on one and holding it up to me. Free Tutoring Service. "In case anyone snoops, I didn't want them to find an entry for 'Guy Who Spanks Me Until I Come.'" Thank goodness everyone else was wrapped up in the moment and not paying attention to us. "I approve." The phone buzzed with the reply from Stupid Bitch. (Inwardly, I felt a bit guilty that I didn't know whether that referred to Abbie or Cassie. Tabitha was not someone whose estimations
Fourth? She'd made Abbie take a dump on my desk. I opened the door. "All right Taylor, let's--" Taylor was not in my room. Two other people were. One was straight from my short list of suspects. Abbie sat on the corner of my desk in a loose-fitting t-shirt and denim shorts that went down nearly to her knees. That she wasn't dressed to titillate was actually much more surprising than her being here. As I walked in, she looked up from her phone with a sly grin. "Sup, C-dawg. Long time no see." The other occupant, however, was not on the short list. Nor the long list, nor any list at all aside from my second period class roster. "Katie...?" Katie Medina's reply was muffled by her gag, what turned out to be a wadded up ball of paper towels from the dispenser I kept in my desk. Which, it turned out, was now sitting beside Abbie, who turned out to be offering to me the key to a pair of handcuffs which, it turned out, were the reason Katie wasn't moving from her desk at the front of t
She remained bent over. "Ugh. Yeah. Man, that was nasty. Thanks, Mr. C." She kept at it with the water bottle, swishing the water around to get the dregs and spitting into the trash. I pivoted to the others. "Both of you. Talk. Now." Tabitha defended herself first. "I didn't know anything about whatever that was," she insisted. Abbie shot her a swift glare. "Don't hate on me. I told Taylor this was a horrible idea from the beginning, C-dawg." "Well you obviously know something! If you don't know the why, you can at least start with the goddamn how! I just watched her graduate! Did you chloroform her in the bathroom or something?" "This school, man, people getting drugged all over the place. Somebody needs to crack down," quipped Abbie. I didn't laugh. Screw it. I turned back to Katie, who seemed to have more or less recovered. "Katie, what did they do to you? Are you OK?" She nodded. "Yeah, I think so, Mr. C. Those paper towels were frickin' gross. You know what it... Did you e
"What party? You mean Cassie Brown?" She shook her head. "Nah. That party sucked anyway. I got pretty drunk, though. Anyway, no, it was... Thursday? Or Wednesday. What day did you come back last week?" "Friday." "OK, so Thursday, then. I remember because I was really stoked we had a sub for most of the week until I showed up Thursday and suddenly I was like, what was I even thinking, Mr. Canon is an excellent teacher, and then you were back the next day and I was really glad." Then she frowned, which since it was Katie Medina meant the lower lip automatically thrust out in an adorable pout. "Where were you all week anyway, Mr. C? You never said. Three days is a long time to be out. Did one of your grandparents die or something?" Even the casual mention of dead grandparents wasn't enough to dull the heat throbbing out of me into Tabitha's mouth. How could she breathe like this? Abbie was kneading Tabitha's ass, and as I watched, she took a page out of Katie's ex-boyfriend's playbook
"This is unacceptable, Mr. Canon," Taylor Stern said as she slapped her essay down on my desk. Behind her, her classmates looked up from their own recently returned papers, no doubt curious about how I would respond to Taylor's latest outburst. I decided to keep things low-key from the outset, not wanting to escalate the situation. "Watch your language, and what seems to be the problem?" I looked up at her as nonchalantly as possible. Taylor briefly removed one of her hands from her hips to flip her hair back over her shoulder, twice as uncomfortable for me with her chest thrust out and unobstructed, daring me to break eye contact and give her something else to accuse me of. She pointed to her paper. "What the hell is this?" "Your paper." "It says I cheated." "It says you violated the school's code of conduct regarding plagiarism, which you did," I added to myself. This was the fifth time in the past two years, during which I had been stuck with her in my class, that she had done
"Taylor, you plagiarized. You were caught. You lied about it and were caught in that too. If you persist in this behavior, I'm going to have to send you to the office. I believe next time you'll be up for a Saturday class. Now you can take your seat and let me get on with the class, or... see you tomorrow for the Saturday class." It wasn't the most productive punishment, reminiscent of the Breakfast Club tradition of locking up a bunch of angry and unruly kids in a room for Super Detention, but it was five hours of easy money for me. I mostly got to sit back and grade, plan, and do the work I would be doing anyway. Every so often, I looked up to nudge them awake or keep them off their devices. I doubted it had any corrective effect as the students already had enough tedium during the week, but Principal Horen believed in it, and I wasn't so opposed that I was unwilling to cash in. There was a tense moment with a truly malevolent glare, and she drew it out long enough that I began to
After a final challenging stare-down, she snatched the slip of paper from my hand and stormed out the door, slamming it behind her with enough force that Mr. Hallett from next door came over to make sure everything was okay. I assured him that it was, and with Taylor out of our hair, the other students and I salvaged what we could from the final minutes of class. Thankfully, it was my final instructional period of the day, with seventh period as my prep. My patience for teenage tomfoolery had been picked clean for the day. As always, Taylor and her shenanigans were the icings on the cake of stress.The bell rang, and students filed out. I closed the door behind the last of them, suppressing my guilt at shirking hall monitoring duties. I needed to take a few deep breaths and relax before I could get back to the endless pile of grading, parent contacts, and preparing everything I could for Monday so that I might actually have part of a day of the weekend to myself.I had just slumped dow