A Million Kisses in Your Lifetime(80)
He doesn’t say a word, but he curls his right hand into a fist, pounding it lightly on top of his desk.
“She’s only seventeen and hopelessly in love with you,” I continue, quickly glancing over my shoulder to see if anyone’s watching us. No one really is. They’re all used to girls talking to Fig during class. “I don’t know why, considering you have a reputation. You do this every year.”
“Like you were even aware of what was going on until that asshole boyfriend of yours told you,” Fig snarls, basically admitting what I just accused him of. All pretense of the friendly, cool English teacher is gone. Now he’s just a pitiful, angry man. He lowers his voice, though I’m not sure anymore if he cares if someone hears him. “Where is Crew anyway? Oh, that’s right, he got caught sneaking around with Natalie Hartford last night. Both of them will most likely get suspended.”
His words are like a stab to the heart. He said it just to upset me and it worked.
Turning away from him, I go back to my desk, settling in my seat, staring at the door, willing Maggie to appear.
Willing Crew to appear too.
But neither of them ever do.
THIRTY
CREW
I’m sitting in Headmaster Matthews’ office, slouching in the chair that sits in front of his desk, watching as he speaks on the phone with my father. He’s got it on speaker, I can hear every shitty word Reginald Lancaster has to say about me, but I don’t care.
I just want out of here. I need to talk to Wren. Clear the air with her and make sure she understands what actually happened last night.
“Normally we would suspend students caught out on campus after curfew,” Matthews says after my dad wraps up his three-minute tirade on my lack of focus and how I don’t give a damn about school or other people. “But we’re so close to finals week and winter break. I’m thinking the time off will be a good time for both your son and Miss Hartford to think about what they’ve done and come to terms with their mistakes.”
My father makes a harumphing noise. “You’re too soft on ‘em, Matthews.”
Matthews can’t win. He suspends me, and my father will be pissed. He lets me go and my father’s pissed.
“I’ll put them in detention then,” Matthews suggests, his gaze meeting mine. If I could, I’d give him the finger, but I restrain myself. “For the rest of the week.”
That’s a whoppin’ two days. Big deal.
“Whatever you think is best.” I can tell my father is done with this conversation. “Crew!”
“Yes, Sir?” God, I hate him.
“Quit fucking around and get your head on straight for once in your goddamn life. Do you understand me?”
Matthews flinches at the choice words my father uses. Such a cool, calm dude when he wants to be.
Not.
“Will do,” I tell him.
Dad ends the call, and with a sigh, Matthews punches a button, shutting off the phone. He rests his elbows on top of his messy desk, pressing his hands together. “You know I’m taking a chance with this.”
I lean forward in my chair, taking my opportunity. “And you know I’m telling you the truth. Natalie was sneaking back onto campus after meeting with Mr. Figueroa. I saw his car. I saw him inside the car. Pretty sure I saw him kiss her too.”
Matthews winces. “You sure about that?”
“Not one hundred percent.”
“You don’t think he was helping her with a paper?”
Oh sweet, idiotic Headmaster Matthews. Why is everyone in denial when it comes to Figueroa?
“It was ten o’clock at night. I don’t think he was helping her with a paper,” I tell him, my voice dry. “I don’t even think she’s in one of his English classes.”
Matthews sighs. “She’s not. I’ve already checked.”
“Told you.”
“This is a serious allegation, Crew. You could put a man’s entire career at stake if this comes out.”
“It’ll come out, because now that I’ve told you, by law, you have to report it to the authorities.” I’m feeling pretty damn good for ratting Fig out. I don’t even care if it fucks with his career. That’s exactly what it should do. “He has no business teaching here. These rumors have been going on for years. Haven’t you ever heard about them?”
Matthews sighs. “There have been rumors swirling around him for years. A friendly English teacher, who actually cares, garners a lot of attention, some of it negative. The man is an institution at this school. He’s been here longer than I have.”
“And that means it’s okay that he’s preying on underage teenage girls.” I nod. “Gotcha.”
“I want you to know no one has ever come to me about Figueroa—ever. I’ve heard rumors, but I’ve never seen actual proof.”
“Well, now you’ve got to make your report, and you’ve got your proof. Me. I saw them.” I rise to my feet. “Can I go to class now?”
“What’s your first period?”
“Honors English.” I grin, not giving a shit that I’ll see Figueroa. Might be fun, knowing that I’m destroying him, yet he has no clue.