The Clarks don’t owe anyone a donation, least of all the organization that tried to actively fuck over their kid.
But I’m glad our library and counseling departments will be fully staffed for the school year.
So…a lovely little tangle of emotions.
“—now if we could just get them to follow through on the remainder of their monthly donations?—”
I stop. “Seriously?”
“Excuse me?” Her eyes flash, the question cold enough to wound.
“Just stop,” I say and know she can pick up the disgust in my words.
“Excuse me?” she says again, even more frostily.
“Stop. We’ve squeaked by with this and you know it. The entire district could—and should—be held responsible.”
“I—”
“You asked me to talk to them. I did. You asked me to get the money. I did. But I will not be approaching them about anything other than Adrian’s classwork from this point on?—”
“You can’t?—”
“I can’t?” I ask archly. “Can’t?”
She glowers at me, but doesn’t comment further—for the moment, anyway.
“You know,” I say after a long moment of us glaring at each other. “I used to think you were my friend.”
“Likewise,” she mutters.
“This isn’t right and you know it.”
She opens her mouth.
“It isn’t right.”
Her teeth click together.
“I’m out. I’m out and if you push me on this, you’ll find that I’m very, very inclined to speak to the Clarks’ attorney and share my frustrations about how this entire situation has been handled.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would, and as much as I love teaching my students, I won’t continue to work like this.”
Leaving them would be brutal…
But I won’t stay here, not like this.
“You know you don’t have tenure,” she calls as I walk away.
“And you know that’s not why I do the job,” I call back.
“So that’s going well, is it, Teach?”
Gasping, I clamp my hand to my chest and glance over to see Colt leaning against his car, arms crossed, mouth flat and eyes annoyed.
“I think I might have just put myself on the list to get pink-slipped, haven’t I?”
