I pace backand forth in my house. It is the not knowing how Shane is handling Dan that both concerns and frightens me. I came home from the incident shaken, but L.J. FaceTimed me almost as soon as I walked in the door, so I had no choice but to put on a bright smile and talk to my son.
Instead of expressing pain or being upset, L.J. was eager to show me his stitches. He had ice cream stains on his face, and he was chatty as ever, allowing me to breathe, at least about him. Iduly lecture him about the dangers of running with scissors and not listening to his grandparents but figure he’s been punished enough by the hospital experience. I have no doubt the stitches and numbing hurt him badly. I wince at the thought but force deep breaths into my lungs. He is fine.
Is Shane?
This is his worst nightmare, the one thing he went out of his way to avoid happening… and I caused it. I remained in his arms despite the risk. I let us get caught by someone who clearly has issues either with me or anyone he feels threatened by, though why he targeted me makes no sense.
I rub my hands over my arms and try to concentrate on studying for tomorrow’s test while I wait to hear from Shane. It isn’t easy… and he never calls.
He does return my text with a generic answer.
Don’t worry. I have it handled. Will talk to you after the test. Good luck.
Handled how? Don’t worry why? What is going on? The not knowing is killing me, but I understand he wants me to focus on the exam, and I need to do just that. Unfortunately I toss and turn all night.
The next morning, I drag myself to the test, tired, cranky, and concerned about how I’ll handle the exam on little sleep and the worry clawing inside me.
Did he get in trouble and does he blame me? Is that why he is waiting to talk to me until after the test? I walk into the lecture hall expecting to see Shane. Although I know he wants the teaching assistant to proctor the exam, I thought he’d at least speak to the class first or wish us luck.
His absence makes it even more difficult to concentrate, but I know how much rides on my passing. Every higher-level class in business requires this entry-level course first. I want to set a positive example for L.J., want to prove to Landon, Jason, andTanner that their faith in me is well placed. That lending me money for school wasn’t a mistake.
Across the room, Dan glares at me, and I don’t know what to make of his attitude. He has the upper hand, after all. He could report Shane to the dean and… no. I can’t think about that now. Later. Later I’ll see what happened.
Pushing every thought aside but economics, I draw a deep breath and settle in to work.
***
Shane
I pace thehall outside the dean’s office, waiting to be called in. Yesterday, after being caught by Dan, instead of letting the kid go and having yet another student make a mess of my life, I took control of the situation. I marched Dan and his damned cell phone and the recording of me holding Amber in my arms straight to the dean’s office.
“Show him,” I said to a shocked Dan. “Show Dean Frost what you have on your phone.”
Sputtering and unsure what my end game was, Dan hit the play button and the video of Shane and Amber came up.
Dean Frost watched, an unhappy expression on his face, and my gut twisted hard.
“I see,” the man said, then turned his gaze on Dan. “And why did you film this?”
“Because she obviously slept her way to a good grade! It’s not fair. The rest of us have to work for what we get,” Dan said, his cheeks red with anger and frustration.
The dean stared at him. “You do realize this isn’t the first time you’ve come to me with accusations about a student cheating.”
That was news to me. I had issues with Dan’s unhappiness with bad grades, but I hadn’t known others did, too.
“But… this time I have proof.” Dan gestured to the phone on the dean’s desk.
“That remains to be seen.” The older man folded his hands across his chest as he stared Dan down. “You, however, have issues with everyone but yourself. After the last time you accused Jeanne Clark of cheating, which she hadn’t done—there were cameras in the classroom—I kept an eye on grades. You’re struggling, young man. And you blame everyone but yourself. One more incident and I’ll have no choice but to expel you. You can’t go on accusing others with no consequences.”
Fury lit Dan’s features, and he stormed out of the room.
The dean then turned his gaze to me. “I know the boy’s father. I suppose it’s time we have a talk,” he said on a sigh. “As for you, would you care to explain?” He gestured to the phone, which remained on his desk.
I blew out a long breath, gathering my thoughts. The dean knew my history and he understood this video looked bad. But I hadn’t broken any school rules. And I covered myself regarding the test and grades.
I went on to explain that Amber had a frightening situation with her son and I’d merely been comforting her. However, I admitted to having a relationship with her. One that I put on hold until class was over. I gave the dean the name of Amber’s tutor and asked the man to talk to the woman and find out how long she’d been working with Amber. Then I listed everything I did to keep the final exam fair and impartial.
“I can understand why you’d be careful, given your history,” the man said. “What exactly is going on with you and this student?”
