“You’ve volunteered here the past three years?”
And I guess he was there. Damn.
“Yes,” I said, not bothering to look at him as I walked toward my car. If he was going to follow me and talk, that was fine.
“Why?”
Excuse me?I stopped in my tracks and glared at him. “You’re asking mewhyI’ve volunteered at a literacy center for three years?”
“Yes.” He crossed his arms and took a long breath as he stared at me. It was the same sharp gaze with questions swirling behind his eyes. “Why do you do it?”
“Why do you?” I fired back, sounding really mature.
He narrowed his eyes before speaking. “Because when I taught inner-city students, reading was the best way to help them. Working on their core skills without all the trinkets and tools and newest toy in the education world was best. They didn’t need the toys to learn. They needed fundamentals and a caring adult.”
“That’s what you see yourself as.”
“Yes. I care about them without all the flair. So I ask again, Gilly, why do you volunteer here? Is it for show? Is it some mandated requirement? I’m having a hard time understanding whyyouwould willingly do this.”
He might as well have slapped my face from his insinuation. “You know what? Screw you. I’ve done nothing to make you hate me, yet it’s the same every day. I volunteer here because literacy is important to me. So is giving back to the community. If I can spend four hours a week to help young learners better their skills and grow into independent thinkers, workers, and citizens, then I feel good about myself, okay? That’s it. That’s why. Did you see the way Leticia hugged me and thanked me? I’m helping make a difference in her life, and that matters to me.”
He blinked slowly. That was his response to me.
He was the most frustrating and infuriating man, and I was done. I unlocked my car and got in, desperate for a glass of wine and to forget about him. If I could go back three months and not enjoy a night with him, maybe this all wouldn’t bother me so much. He’d be just another asshole.
It was the fact I knew he could be kind, but chose not to be to me and only me.
It was a hard pill to swallow, and if it was even possible, the urge to win the competition grew stronger. Two more days of creative and cheap costumes, and I had to win.
Chapter Nine
Thursday flew by in a blur,and Samantha never showed her face on campus. I texted Fritz a stupid amount of times to double-check she wasn’t seeing him, but he assured me he hadn’t heard a thing from her since the Instagram follow. I even stalked my brother’s accounts to make sure…I didn’t trust that woman, and her silence on my end made me nervous. She was the type of bully you wanted visible.Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.
It was easier to see her flirt with Christopher or have her make dumb comments to me rather than having no idea what she was up to. But it didn’t matter. The longer she stayed out of my life, the better. My limit on my funds was up in a month, and if she were still sniffing around, I could pay her off. Maybe she’d get bored and find a new target. One could only hope.
It was finally Friday. The final day of the SPIRITS competition. The day we had a school-wide assembly where students would vote for the most creative teachers. Our tie-dye SPIRIT day the day before was probably my least favorite, but that was okay. My heart beat twice as hard that morning when I woke up, and even now, with class starting, the adrenaline kicked in an hour before the assembly started.
One of us would win today, and not only get to pick a training for our team, but also get major bragging rights. I would throw it in his face so hard, he wouldn’t be able to look at me for a week. My competitive drive scared me a little bit, but I was rolling with it. Athletics weren’t my thing, but winning SPIRIT weeks most definitely were. I’d put this on my résumé and wear the badge proudly.
“Good morning, Ms. Carter,” one of my students, Emily, said as she walked into my room. “Did you know that Mr. Callahan is funny and had a fish growing up? I have a fish too. Do you? Fish are my favorite.”
“That is super cool!” I said, making my voice remain positive. “What’s your fish’s name?”
“Ted Red.” She smiled, and her eyes widened at Christopher standing outside his door. “Mr. C! Mr. C! I did the thing you told me to with my homework, and I got it. You are the best!”
“High five, Little E.” He bent down and held out his hand when she went up and high-fived him.
She never smiled at me like that, with awe and wonder and gratitude, and my stomach clenched. When did I care about being the favorite? It was selfish. Kids should have an adult they trusted and liked in their life, and that wasn’t always going to be me. I knew this and was a million percent okay with it.
But why him?
The conflicting emotions hurt my soul. When Emily came back to my class, I forced a smile. The great part about swapping students for certain subjects was to expose them to different teaching styles. I loved that, but it meant Christopher and I shared the same students, and one of us would eventually be favored over the other. He took all things science, and I focused on ELA activities.
“Can I sit on your bouncy ball today for class?” Emily asked, the harsh reminder that my class had the three evil Ts: things, toys, and trinkets. “I want to try them, please!”
“Right, of course.” I nodded at her as I felt Christopher’s gaze digging into my back. Today’s theme was school spirit, and I wore every yellow-and-blue item of clothing I had, from shoes to knee-high socks, to a skirt and leggings and a tank top over a long-sleeve shirt with gloves, face paint, and a hat. Christopher looked okay, but since he was new and couldn’t spend a dime per his own rules, he didn’t have Mountain Elementary swag like I did.
Karma serves him right.
