Anyone But Rich (Anyone But..., #1)(7)

“And I’m sure you would also get used to the smell of shit if you lived in a sewer, but why would you want to?”

I grinned. “Didn’t you ever want to have a dog?”

“Yes, but I don’t see your point.”

“Actually . . .” I sighed. “I was going to say Cade was like a dog, but better because he won’t piss in your house. But then I remembered last Christmas when he got really drunk.”

Stella finally cracked a smile. “I find myself wondering what I got myself into with this whole arrangement.”

“Then you’re finally starting to see clearly.”





Chapter 3





KIRA


There were a few ways to describe the outfit I was wearing on my first day as a high school teacher. You could call it a tasteful arrangement of clothing procured from a wide variety of retail establishments. If you wanted to brush on only a little of the sugarcoating, you might say I had mixed together some great finds from Target and Walmart. And if you were an ass, you could just say I was poor.

Considering I needed all the confidence I could get, I was absolutely rolling with the first option.

I stood at the front of my empty classroom with my feet twelve inches apart. The legendary power stance. My body formed the strongest shape in nature when I stood like this. I was a pyramid. I was a symbol of strength and dominance. My body, which had been chiseled from literal days of exercise over the years, was an immovable object. I was awesome. I also had to pee, but according to the guide I’d read while sipping coffee from trembling hands this morning, “simply standing in the power stance releases chemicals in the brain to improve confidence and helps others perceive you as more imposing.”

In practice, it made me feel a little bit like I was trying to casually let gravity and time handle a stubborn wedgie, or maybe like my water had broken and I was trying not to get any on my shoes.

I was clutching my materials like lifelines, while my eyes were locked on the door to my classroom. The hallways were flooded with students who all wore their West Valley High uniforms in varying states of rebellion. The boys wore white button-down shirts with yellow-and-silver ties, while the girls wore white button-downs tucked into yellow-and-silver plaid skirts. The boys either had their ties worn comically short or long. Short seemed to be the trend among upperclassmen, while the freshmen had ties dangling inches below their belts. For the girls, rebellion had two forms: cleavage and short skirts. They’d either wear their shirts in such small sizes that their chests were trying to burst out from between the buttons, or they’d roll their skirts up as high as they dared. Teachers were handing out pink slips left and right.

Me? I was standing my ground. Dress code was a battle for another day. Today, I just needed to survive. For a moment, I thought I knew how soldiers in war must have felt moments before the enemy came bursting from the fog with rifles in hand and screams in their throats. A moment later, I decided I actually had no idea how those soldiers felt, but I was definitely scared.

My door opened, and I immediately abandoned the power stance to turn wide eyed to see who it was.

Principal Lockett.

He was shorter than most of the freshmen, but the shiny patch of bald skin on his crown and the drooping bags under his eyes meant there was no mistaking him for a student. “Just wanted to say good luck on your first day, Kira.”

“Thank you,” I said. I hoped my smile looked genuine. I’d expected to need to try very hard to make a good impression on my new boss, but from the first day of preplanning two weeks ago, it seemed like he was the one sucking up. It wasn’t the first time being the mayor’s daughter had given me some unwanted advantage. No matter how much I protested, some people in West Valley were dead set on the idea that getting in my good graces was the same as getting in my father’s good graces. Unfortunately, my objections went unnoticed, and people had never been quick to believe that favoritism wasn’t something I secretly encouraged.

So I did what I always did. I pretended I still needed to bust my ass to make a good impression. I refused to sit back and let my father be an easy pass, and I hoped for the best.

“Is everything okay?” I asked when he was still standing there with a smile plastered on his face. From the corner of my eye, I saw students start pouring into my room from the back door.

“There is just one thing. A slight hiccup, really. Nothing that you would need to worry your father about,” he said. “There’s a very influential businessman in town. He got on the phone with the right people a few minutes ago, made some very interesting promises, and . . . well . . .”

“Well, what?” My eyes were darting between Principal Lockett and my rapidly filling classroom.

“He’s apparently an old friend of yours. Said he’d like to be able to stop by today and say hello. He promised it would be quick.”

“It’s my first day,” I said slowly, hoping I wouldn’t need to explain any further.

“And you’ll do great!” Principal Lockett seemed to sense my inevitable eruption, so he ducked back into the hallway and flashed me a quick thumbs-up before the door snicked closed.

I turned my eyes toward my students and made a weak attempt to mentally rally. I can do this. They’re just children in bodies that have grown faster than their brains. They aren’t as mature as they look.