“Truth is, I’d rather deal with a broke, honest substitute teacher than a dressed-up delusion strutting around in steel-toe boots. One teaches with heart; the other lies with empty pride. And if you think being a substitute teacher is lame, then you’re in the wrong profession forallthe wrong damn reasons.”
My chest tightened a little bit—not from rage, but from something deeper.
I thought about my students.
I sat across from students who cried when they passed my course, not because it was hard, but because life was. Those were the same ones who sat in my office too long just to avoid going home,called me“Ms. Hollis”,“Professor Hollis”,“Dr. H,”or evenMs. Hollywood’, but hugged me like I was a second chance or turned in late papers with long apologies, even though I could see the life dragging them by the collar.I watched Black boys who never had a male role model walk a little straighter after I brought in a guest speaker whobelievedin them. I’d seen young women with babies on their hips—tired, working two jobs, bruised by life, holding it together beneath a full course load and a fake smile—show up anyway to chase a dream. And there Adrian was… sitting there like stepping into a classroom was somehow beneath him, like shaping the minds of the next generation made amanlame.
And maybe I’m speaking from a biased standpoint. I mean… I am a professor.
Substitutes—hell, teachers—don’t get enough credit. Some of them are holding it down in classrooms with no heat, no working projector, no lesson plan, no damn clue what they walked into, but still show up… and not for the check, but for the kids, for stability, for presence, or even for the chance to be the one adult who didn’t leave. So to hear Adrian lump male substitutes into some weak-ass, dusty category like it made a man“less of a man”to teach… that did it for me.
If the bear incident or finding out he was a fraud with half a lie tucked in every sentence didn’t do it… that ignorant, tired-ass mindset was the final nail in whatever this was pretending to be.
I gave him a slow once-over. “Seriously, though… it’s 2025. What grown man still does that corny shit?”
Isis slid a stick of gum in her mouth like we were on a break.
“Well, he wouldn’t be the first. I had this guy—”
I snapped my head toward her, shooting her a look so grimy that she clamped her lips shut like a mime caught in a moment of trouble.
Back to the point.
“But yeah,” I proceeded coldly with my eyes narrowed on Adrian. “Youshould’vebeen scared to lie to me. Do you even realize the danger yourliecould’ve caused just then? You could’ve turned this area into a crime scene with your discount manhood and zero qualifications, all because you think confidence is a substitute for competence. You out here swinging metal like you building the ark with no damn blueprint, no training, no skills, and barely enough testosterone to hold the damn thing right! Seriously, you could’ve killed somebody; hell, youcould’ve killed yourself! And for what? To play hero in front of a bunch of people who can barely tolerate you?!” I argued.
“Damn,” Bryce muttered, scratching his head.
Adrian nodded, his eyes filled with understanding and a flicker of regret. “I get it. I do. And you’re right… I should’ve been honest. I ain’t perfect, but I do care about you.”
I held up a hand. “Save it!”
There was nothing else to say.
Silence hung in the air for a second. My jaw tightened involuntarily as I glanced down at the knee that had sparked that whole damn scene.
I turned to Isis, who was still patting Adrian’s forehead in a manner reminiscent of someone tending to a patient in hospice care.
I scoffed. “Thiswhat you ran over here for?”
“What?” Isis shrugged, her shoulders hunching defensively. “He was in pain!”
“So is my patience,” I deadpanned, shaking my head again, exasperation bubbling beneath the surface. “Well… at least somebody knows what the hell they’re doing.”
I locked eyes with Bryce, who wore a smirk, clearly enjoying the chaos unfolding in front of him more than he should.
I towered over Adrian, sighing loud enough that I felt like the trees should respond, debating in my mind whether to just leave him there for the wolves.
“This is embarrassing. Get up.”
“I—I can’t,” he groaned dramatically,
“He’ll walk when he hears the bear again,” Bryce muttered just loud enough for me to hear, his tone teasing.
I strolled over to the logs I sat down earlier, squatted low, and scooped them back up with a grunt that wasn’t from the weight, but from anger.
I turned my head slightly, eyes slicing in the direction of Adrian and Isis, who were busy doing absolutelynothingof value.
“Useless… just useless,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.
