I chuckle at their absurd airport tradition and wave as they pull out of the driveway. The happiness bubbles over and I feel giddy, cheesing so hard my cheeks hurt.
“What’s up with you?” Emma asks as I walk back inside.
“Just happy.”
The smile stretches across my face as I finally let myselffeelhappy.
Chapter twenty-four
Ellie
“Whendidyouplanon telling me about this little relationship?”
Mr. Clinton was sitting at his desk, spectacles sitting on the bridge of his crooked nose as he called Benny and I into his office before our morning faculty meeting. We were called into theprincipal’s office,like a couple of disruptive hoodlums.
“Henry, I’m sorry,” Benny whispers. “It all just happened so fast.” He steals a glance at me before returning his focus on Mr. Clinton—who definitely saw the glance and rolled his eyes at the two love birds sitting across from his desk.
“How serious is this?” he asks, interlocking his hands and resting them underneath his chin. “Am I going to have to go to the board?”
Benny, who was holding my hand and disregarding the entire notion that we werein troublefor breaking the dating rule, continued to defend our case. “I don’t know—”
“You don’t know?” he interrupts, his eyes wrinkling behind his glasses as he frowns. “You could lose your job, Bayani. You better know what you’re getting yourself into,” he says, sternly—clearly irritated at the situation.
I adjust in my seat, my palm clammy against Benny’s. “Mr. Clinton, I know this is all a little overwhelming. And I’m sorry we didn’t come to you sooner.”
“Ms. Bailey, look . . .” He pauses with a deep breath, smoothing out his blue linen tie. “I appreciate your contributions to this school. The students have grown to really like you. The faculty too”—he gives Benny a look—“but I can’t risk losing Mr. Divata.”
“I completely understand, I wouldn’t want that either.” I let go of Benny’s hand, placing mine in my lap and whispering, “I don’t want to jeopardize his job.”
“You won’t.” Benny grabs my elbow. “Henry, please tell her she won’t jeopardize my job here.”
Mr. Clinton doesn’t respond. Clearing his throat, he stands from his desk and walks over to the large window facing the parking lot, watching as cars start to pull in, students arriving for class. Mr. Clinton’s office sits caddy-corner to the front doors of the school, and almost every morning the students can see the back of his head as he reads the school paper from the day before—something Benny admires about him is his consistency, never reading anything else, or drinking anything but his green tea with Sweet 'N Low.
“Ms. Bailey, can you give Mr. Divata and I a moment?” he asks, waving at the few early students walking into the school.
My stomach drops to the floor as I stand and go to leave—Benny reaching for, and squeezing my hand, as I walk out of the office.
Sitting in one of the two chairs seated near Mr. Clinton’s office door, I notice a few whispers and giggles from students as they pass by. I sit up straight with my head held high, as I accept how it looks—Ms. Bailey was called into the principal’s office. I block out the chatter growing in the halls as I focus on the conversation behind the office door.
“You could get fired . . .”Clinton.
“Do we know that for sure?”Benny.
“Hey, Ms. B!” Garrett Connors shouts at me from down the hall.
I ignore him and lean my head back, craning my neck to hear better. Their voices are muffled, maybe they moved further from the door?
Mumbled words come sporadically through the door—job . . . rules . . . girl . . . love.
Love?
“Ms. B, what’re ya doin?” Garrett startles me as he slides into the chair next to me. How did he hobble over here so fast?
“Shhhh . . .” I whisper a screech at him. “I’m trying to listen.” He mouths “oops”and gestures a silent finger over his lips as he leans closer to the door with me.
More words—school board . . . term . . . New York . . .
“Ugh, I can’t make anything out.” I groan in defeat.
