I mash the red hang-up button.
“What whose favorite food is?” Lina asks.
“Nothing. No one.”
“Was that Mrs. Flores?” she smiles.
“What the fuck, Lina; you too? It’s only been two months. She’s still my subordinate, and she certainlycannotbe Mrs. Flores.” I rub my face with my hands.
She looks at me, perplexed. “What the hell are you talking about? I asked if that was your mother?”
“What?” I blink at her. “My mother… Oh, yes. Yes, that was Mrs. Flores, my mother. Mrs. Flores.” I take subtle deep breaths, willing my blood pressure to drop.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” She breaks into a grin. “Two months, huh? I bet Mama Flores is going apeshit. A new Mrs. Flores? Oh, shit.” Lina’s face falls quickly. “Wait, you said asubordinate?!”
“No,” I half-shout.
“Oh no. No, no, no.Oliver,” she shouts, louder than me.
“No, no, no, is right, Lina?—”
“GEORGIA?! Is Mama Flores talking about GEORGIA?!” she shrieks at maximum volume.
“Lina. SHUT. UP.”
She paces around the room. I follow her back and forth, trying to shush her, gesticulating in her face. “Oliver, you’ve… This is… You can’t… FOR TWO MONTHS?”
“Lina, lower your voice?—”
“I thought I heard the third grade team talking about it—but wasn’t sure,” she’s mumbling to herself.
“Wait, what?! They know?!” I whisper-yell.
She stops in her tracks and whirls around. “Didn’t you just write her up this morning?! I was cc’ed on the email!” she whisper-yells back.
“Yes, I did. The superintendent made me. I had no choice?—”
“You dick, Oliver?—”
“I HAVE IT HANDLED?—”
“Did you write her up so you could get that stupid fucking promotion?!”
“Yes, well, no, not entirely because of that?—”
“This is really fucked, Oliver; you’re a real asshole?—”
The phone on my desk rings.
Superintendent Daniels’s name pops up on the caller ID.
Lina looks at me, her eyes wide with panic. “Pick it up,” she whispers.
“I don’t want to pick it up. Maybe he’ll leave a voicemail,” I whisper back.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Oliver? Pick up the phone. It’sour bosscalling.”
“No—”
