Page 72 of The Teacher

Don’t bother investing in the school, I never want to work with you. I trusted you and you fucked me over. I never, ever want to see you again. Got that? Never. You should grab your bags right now and fuck off out of New Water, just like you did eight years ago. Bye forever.

And that’s it. I press the icon. Sent.

And then I block his number from my contacts. I really never want to hear from him again. Then I put away my phone.

I sigh, and tears start forming in my eye. Floods of tears. I’m breaking down.

I’m sitting on this empty beach at night and I’m crying my heart out. There’s no one around. No one to see me like this. I just feel so alone. So empty. So cold.

In one night, my world has shattered.

Just like it did back then at the house party when I was a naïve teenager.

What excuse do I have now?

Of course, Skipper Deep cheated on me. It was my fault trusting him again. It’s the exact same thing that happened eight years ago. I trusted that man with his perfect smile and solid abs and I got burned for it.

I never learned.

I told myself for years that I was over him, that I’d matured. That I was a strong independent woman who didn’t need a man to satisfy her. Not me.

But then Skipper Deep sauntered back into town and me, being such a weak fantasist, believed his lies only to be torn up again.

I let him do this to me.

I didn’t listen to my better judgment. I screwed up.

And I’ve now sent him an emotional message.

And now I don’t want to hear what he’s got to say. I don’t want to hear his pitiful excuses. This time I’m not going to give in to his cocky attitude. I never want to see him again.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It can’t be Skipper; I’ve only just blocked him. I check who it is.

Mr. Brown. He’s messaging me at such a late time? On a Sunday?

My heart stops, this must be serious.

Hello, Miss Finn. I will be needing to speak to you first thing in the morning before classes start. See me in my office as soon as you get to school.

I throw the phone down on the sand beside me.

Not this as well.

My heart really does stop now.

I’ve been knocked out here like a bad boxer twice in one night. A double whammy.

This message from the principal can mean only one thing.

My job is over. I’m getting fired. That’s it.

Bye, bye teaching career.

That means, on the same night, I’ve lost the love of my life and my job.

Great.

Taking the top spot off that house party eight years ago, I think I can safely say that this is the worse night of my life.