Page 58 of Solo

I know there’s going to be trouble the second I spot them sitting at their usual table. Damn! I was so close to getting out of here on time. But I know, even before they start their crap, that there’s no way I’m getting to Drew’s class on time. I’m already glancing around the huge hall, looking for the closest mop when I hear Joanie calling me. She’s just dumped her orange juice on the table. Again. You’d think she’d get a new party trick by now. This one’s getting pretty old.

I grab the nearest roll of paper towels and rush over to clean up the mess before it seeps over the edge of the table and onto the floor. Maybe I can skip the mop after all. But that hope is short lived once the coffee goes airborne, landing in equal parts on me, and on the floor. With a silent sigh, I grab the mop and start to clean up, ignoring the taunts of my classmates as I do.

It doesn’t hurt anymore, this little game they like to play with me. In fact, I’ve invented a game of my own. Every morning that I cross paths with them, I time myself to see how long I can go without uttering a single syllable. They sneer, they taunt, they insult, and I just pretend I can’t hear it. On the days when I can pull it off, they leave the dining hall pissy because they couldn’t get a rise out of me. I love those days. Today, unfortunately, is not one of them, though.

When the coffee splashes all over my clean clothes, I realize I’m going to spend the next fifteen minutes in the ladies’ room, rinsing my sweater out and then drying it with the hand dryer. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of them.

“Really?” I hiss at Lisa. The soprano gives me a huge Cheshire cat grin that I’d like to smack right off her face. “What, are you ten years old? Haven’t you got better things to do than harass me?”

“Sure, but none of them are as fun as watching you on your hands and knees cleaning the floor,” Ken Logan pipes up and they all laugh.

I’m about to say something else when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

“You go on ahead and get cleaned up before you’re late,” my supervisor whispers softly in my ear.

I nod gratefully and hand her the mop. As I walk away, I hear my classmates giggling and wonder if the last few days ever happened. Or were they just a dream? I guess I’m about to find out, because there’s no way I’m making it to class on time today.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Drew

Seven minutes. That’s how late she is when she slips into the back of the classroom, breathing heavily, sweater covered in large, still-damp water spots where she’d obviously tried to clean it. I make a point of turning to write something on the chalkboard as she makes her way to her desk at the front of the room. When I turn around, I spot Joanie and Ken exchanging knowing looks and snickering.

“Something funny, Mr. Logan? Miss Dolan?” I ask with a glare in their direction.

They both turn serious in an instant and shake their heads no.

“Huh,” I say, pretending to consider them carefully. “Because I’m fairly certain you were just snickering. Were you snickering at me?” I accuse pointedly.

“No! No, Dr. Markham, it was just…just a joke,” Joanie says, quickly trying to convince me of what I already know to be true—but don’t care about.

“You think my class is a joke, Miss Dolan?” I twist her words and watch with satisfaction as the color drains from her overly made-up face.

“No sir,” she whispers, eyes widening.

“I think I’d like you to leave,” I say.

She stares at me in disbelief. “But I didn’t do anything!”

My glare stops her dead. I raise an eyebrow.

“Out, Miss Dolan. You, too, Mr. Logan. Now.”

The two gather their things quickly and make their way toward the door at the back of the classroom. Unfortunately for them, they pass by my desk to get there. They’re almost directly between my desk and Katherine Brenner’s when I pick up the coffee mug I’ve brought in special for this class and “knock” it on the floor in front of them. The liquid splashes up, covering both of their pants legs.

“Oops!” I say, and catch sight of Katherine’s head snapping toward me out of the corner of my eye.

Ken The Coward Logan sprints for the door, leaving Joanie Dolan standing there, staring at me.

“Miss Dolan, I believe you just knocked over my mug. I think you’d better clean that mess up before you leave.”

She starts to protest but one look at me and she shuts her mouth. I pull a roll of paper towels out of my desk drawer and toss it at her. The girl drops to her knees reluctantly and starts to sop up the mess. The entire class is watching wordlessly in stunned disbelief. Well, not the entire class, unfortunately.

Katherine springs out of her chair and joins Joanie on the floor. She grabs the paper towels and unfurls a couple of sheets.

“Go ahead, I’ll get this,” Katherine says, shooing her away. Joanie nods dumbly.

Without so much as a glance in my direction, the flutist scurries out of the room, leaving her classmate to clean up the mess I made in an attempt to drive a point home.