Page 60 of The Teacher

21

SANDY

It’s deadly quiet inside the long room. The only sound is of pens scribbling on papers.

Wait.

There is a sound, I hear it.

Whispering. Some chatting among students.

“No talking,” I say, my raised voice echoing around the silent room. The students, all sitting at separate desks seem to freeze, frightened of my sudden voice. The air in the room is full of tension and stress, my students think they’re feeling it, but little do they know how much more terrified and stressed I am than they.

It’s the English exam. The big day. The day I’ve been dreading for months.

This exam is important. Super important. My students’ average marks from this English exam will be compared with the average marks of all the other subjects. It’s the way the school judges what subjects the students are doing well in, and what subjects they’re doing badly in. It’s what the school uses to judge the teachers.

What they’re going to use to judge me.

And you don’t want your kids to do badly in this exam, and you never want to be the teacher of the worst-performing subject. Especially when you’re me and it’s clear that my job is on the chopping block here.

That’s what Mr. Brown and Miss Tweed said.

I scan the room. Each student has their own individual desk, separate from each other and all facing me. I can see them all from the comfort of my chair. I can see if there’s any cheating or any talking. It’s what I’m supposed to do, but inside I’m freaking out because I don’t want any of them to fail.

They’ve all been amazing the last few weeks, studying Romeo and Juliet hard. I’ve drilled into them all the aspects of the plot and story, all in preparation for this exam. I hope they’re okay. I check around the room for any cases of students stressing. I can’t help them with the answers, but I can give them some encouraging words. I used to freak out massively over exams when I was their age, so I know what it’s like. I don’t want any of them to go through what I did.

My eyes rest on Tom and James. The two troublemakers have come a long way in a month or so. Skipper’s been amazing with them, teaching them in his own wacky style. They love him. The boys look up to him, and who wouldn’t? Skipper’s funny, relaxed, witty, smart, and has made a lot of money in his life. Any teenage boy would look up to him.

And so do I. I love watching Skipper tutor. He’s a natural. If he didn’t go into being a billionaire international businessman then he would’ve definitely have made an excellent small-town teacher.

Tom and James pour over their exam papers, their heads bowed. Neither of them has looked up so far since I started the clock. That could either be a good sign or a terrible one. I’ll just have to wait and see.

My pocket buzzes. My phone. I pull it out and check it. Skipper’s name pops up and I decide to read his message.

How’s the exam going?

I type back quickly. And quietly.

Don’t know yet, could be really good or really bad.

Skipper replies straight away.

You’re an amazing teacher, I’m sure everything is fine.

I close my eyes upon reading that message. When he decides to be nice, he’s great. Skipper’s been on his best behavior for the last few weeks ever since that kiss on the beach. I think he’s really after me, this thing we’re doing isn’t just a fling. He really wants me. He’s been making all the good moves.

I mean, he’s been amazing in bed. We’ve met up a couple of times, usually sneaky flings after school in one of the locked dark classrooms. It feels so naughty to steal some time in the empty school, it’s like we’re horny teenagers again. Skipper always knows how to pleasure me in all the right places. He’s so attentive and simply… there. I do feel special with him, I’m not just another girl. I do see the desire in his eyes when he looks at me. He calls my name out when he climaxes.

But what happens when he decides to go? He can’t stay in New Water forever. He’s going to decide whether or not to invest in Poseidon’s Academy, and either way he’ll leave. And I don’t want to leave here; this is my home. What happens if he decides not to invest in the school? What then? I’ve been too scared to raise the subject with him, too scared of the answer. What if he decides not to commit to me at all like he hasn’t yet with the school?

What if he drops me like he did eight years ago?

I sigh and return my phone to my pocket.

Then the bell rings. The end of the exam.

“Okay,” I announce to the class. “That’s it. Put your pens down. I’ll come around and collect your papers.”