“I’d rather not get into it.”
“Does this have to do with a young man?”
“No,” I say, wondering why she’d ask that. “I’m not dating anyone.”
She nods, folding her hands and placing them on the desk. “I often find boys are the reason girls aren’t achieving in school.”
“That’s not why I didn’t know the answer today. I just didn’t study enough.”
“Ms. Halliway, what are your plans for after graduation?”
“I don’t have any. I’ll probably move back to New York and get a job.”
“You have no desire to attend college?”
“If I can’t pass high school English, I don’t think I’ll make it at college.”
“Perhaps you could get a tutor. I’d be willing to assist you if you’d put in the effort. We could meet after school. I stay until five.”
“I can’t. I have to ride home with Trystan.”
She stands up, facing me, her arms folded. “Ms. Halliway, this is not just a class. This is your life — your future. You’re a smart girl with a great deal of potential, but you’re choosing to do nothing. Why is that?”
She thinks I’m smart? And have potential? I thought she hated me. Is she being sarcastic? I can’t tell if she’s complimenting me or putting me down.
“I’m not choosing to do nothing,” I tell her. “I’m just not interested in school.”
“That’s a shame,” she says as she sits down. She picks up a pen and begins grading a quiz, marking it up in red.
“Can I leave now?” I ask.
“Go ahead, Ms. Halliway.”
As I’m walking out, I hear her talking again. “There are people who pretend to have greatness and those who actually have it. The latter tend to get looked over because the pretenders get in their way.”
When I look back at her, her head is down as she marks up someone’s quiz.
I leave, confused by what just happened. Was she saying I have greatness?Me? I’m the worst student in the entire school. Was she just saying that to get me to study more? To get my grades up? That has to be it. Someone probably told her to say that to motivate me to do better. Probably Ms. Adams. I’msupposed to meet with her tomorrow, but Brock told me to cancel our session and tell her I have a new counselor.
After class ends for the day, I text Trystan telling him to wait for me, then hurry to the counselor’s office.
“Ms. Adams?” I say, glancing in the room. She’s not there. She might’ve snuck out the back. I think she goes out there to smoke. Just outside the door is a dumpster surrounded by a small white fence where Ms. Adams can hide and smoke without anyone seeing her. She tries to cover the smell with perfume, but I can still smell it on her.
I open the door to see if she’s out there. I don’t see her, but I hear someone talking. It’s Kristen. She’s yelling.
“I’m telling you, she knows! She saw us!”
“Keep your damn voice down,” a man says. It sounds like Principal Edwards, but it’s hard to tell because he’s talking so low. “You’re overreacting. Even if she told someone, nobody would believe her. She doesn’t have proof. The proof would’ve been if you’d—”
“Stop!” she yells. “It’s over. We said we wouldn’t talk about it.”
“Go inside. You need to get home. Your mother is back and waiting to take you shopping.”
“Mymothercan go to hell! You better not be doing anything with her!”
“Kristen, she’s my wife. You have to understand—”
“You bastard!” she yells as something slams against the dumpster, making a loud noise. “How could you do that to me?”
