Page 77 of The Teacher

Skipper has emotionally scarred me for life. Twice.

And now I’m at school about to get fired, no matter what the results of the exam are.

The worst night of my life is turning into the worst day as well.

I compose myself in the school hallway and head on down to Mr. Brown’s office, knocking on the door. It’s time to face my executioner.

Take it as a strong woman. After last night, it’s all I’ve got left, my small remaining amount of dignity and self-respect.

“Come in.”

I do.

Mr. Brown is sitting at his desk, and next to him, standing, is Miss Tweed. Just as she was in my last meeting in here. But I don’t expect to see her in here now. My eyes dart over to her and she looks back at me with a snarl.

Oh, boy.

Of course, she’s here. There’ll be nothing she loves more than twisting the dagger into her helpless prey. I’m a rabbit caught in a trap. No escape. Here’s my fate.

And I bet she’s going to enjoy it.

“Please sit,” Mr. Brown says, motioning at the chair opposite his desk. I do. “There’s no easy way to put this, Miss Finn.”

“Easy way to put what?” I’m not going down easy, not after that email I’ve just seen.

Mr. Brown sighs. “Miss Finn, it’s been a tough decision to make but I’m sorry, you’re getting let go by the school.”

I knew it.

“I’m getting fired?”

“Well, you can put it like that.”

“For what?” I ask. “Did you just get the email about the exam results? Did you read what it says? The kids got a better average score in English above all other classes, including math.”

I’m not going down without a fight.

Mr. Brown goes silent. He’s not great at confrontations, or when he knows the person he’s talking to is correct.

And I’ve one hundred percent correct now.

“Sweetie,” Miss Tweed interrupts, leaning across the table and flashing me her fake smile. “The average scores of the students aren’t the reason we’re firing you. No. We’re firing you because you’ve lost the school Skipper Deep and his money. He’s told me personally that he’s not going to invest, and so therefore you’re being let go, that’s why. It’s your fault he’s not investing. Your fault. And you have to pay.”

“Pay with my job?”

“I’m afraid so, Miss Finn.”

Look at her face, she’s so fucking happy.

“Why do you think I’m the reason he’s not investing? Do you have proof of this?”

Miss Tweed shakes her head. “Oh, we know everything about your little… liaisons with Mr. Deep. I overheard you last night at my house. Your little argument was very illuminating.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“I think I do, young miss.”

She throws something down on the desk. Papers. I lean over to get a closer look at them. No, not papers. They’re photographs. Pictures taken of Skipper and me. One of us kissing together at the beach, another one of me holding the towel in front of his naked body, another one of me entering his hotel. All taken on a long lens like paparazzi photos in a trashy tabloid.