Lessons in Love. Belinda Missen
and I’m not dragging a relationship around the office like a petulant toddler, but “whatever”? Do you understand how devaluing that is?’
‘That’s certainly not how I intended it to sound,’ he said. ‘Not at all. I simply expressing that I didn’t think we needed to label anything, that it could just be one fantastic night as it was.’
I glanced up over my shoulder. ‘Look, we need to be in class in about five minutes. You need to leave.’
‘So that’s it?’ he asked again. ‘I use one wrong word, and I’ve blown my chance?’
‘Do you teach your students to choose their words carefully?’ I opened my office door and swept my arm towards the outside world. ‘As far as I’m concerned, it didn’t happen, and it’s not happening again.’
‘So, what you’re saying is just rewind to four o’clock Friday?’
‘Exactly. None of it happened. Whatever, right?’
‘All right then.’ Marcus backed out of my office slowly. ‘Onion.’
‘Smug bastard.’ I reached for my lesson plans.
So, that didn’t exactly play out how I’d hoped. For all the imaginary arguments I’d won over the weekend, I suddenly had about as much bite as sweet tomato relish. But I didn’t have time to worry. In fact, I didn’t even want to worry about it. The bell had barely rung when Jemima appeared at the door of the library.
‘Everybody say good morning to Miss Manning.’ Jemima held the door open for her small army as they raced through the door, elbows akimbo, already fragile friendships teetering on the fall of seating arrangements. They sang a sweet greeting and, before I could grab her, she’d vanished. Fair call, I thought.
‘All right.’ I clapped my hands and looked out at the faces before me. Kids. They were so readable I could tell their level of disinterest a mile off. ‘Today, we’re going to be reading one of my favourite books. Then, I want you to use the tools in front of you to retell the story of that book back to me.’
They looked bored stiff. Great.
‘Miss Manning, are you going to take the roll?’
Fuck.
‘Just testing.’ I grinned and shook a finger. ‘Good pick-up.’
Thankfully, things got better. I remembered roll call at the beginning of classes, worked through retellings with younger students, character profiles with some of the older ones, and word associations with the ones in between. I pushed my return cart around at lunchtime and, on Wednesday, Penny and the Prep teachers (that really should be a band name) took me for lunch at the closest sandwich shop we could find, where I avoided any and all questions about my love life. I did not have one, no matter what secrets the universe was keeping for me.
On my way back, I walked into the library with a fist-sized blueberry muffin in tow to find Phil waiting for me. He looked deep in discussion with Mick, both wearing expressions that told me they were plotting someone’s demise; likely mine. I hoped like hell Marcus hadn’t said anything. Surely, he wouldn’t.
‘Eleanor.’ Phil held out a hand to stop me before I could disappear too far into my office.
‘Phil.’ I backtracked cautiously. All I wanted right now was to destroy this muffin and ride the sugar wave out for the afternoon. I peeled back the paper patty case and nibbled as I waited for him to finish mumbling at Mick.
‘How’s everything going?’ he asked. ‘All under control? Settling in well?’
I nodded slowly. ‘I think so, yes.’
‘No problems at all?’ he asked. ‘Getting along all right with everyone?’
I froze. Throat, meet vomit. Vomit, sit back down. ‘Sorry?’
‘It’s just, I’ve got you in mind for a project. I was just wondering if there were any issues I wasn’t yet aware of?’
I shook my head and glanced at Mick, who offered nothing but a nervous smile. ‘No, everyone’s been great. Very supportive. Thank you.’
‘And you’re ready for the Book Fair coming up? That’s always a huge day.’
Not really. It was still weeks away. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Excellent. Good.’ Phil rubbed his hands together, surveying the library like he was looking for something out of place, then disappeared with Mick in tow.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what they were planning.
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