Hissy Fit (The Southern Gentleman #1)(41)

That explained Ezra’s panicked look as he exited the office and saw me standing there.

He knew.

Oh, God. I felt like a fool.

And I felt sick to my stomach.

I’d never once said a word to my students that could ever be misconstrued as anything other than appropriate.

I was not that kind of teacher that played around with her students—I literally couldn’t handle that.

And everyone knew it.

Why hadn’t Ezra said something?

Did he believe her?

“What about my regular classes?” I asked carefully.

“Those you can continue since the student that complained wasn’t attending those.” She paused. “I don’t want you to think that we don’t believe you, because we do.”

I waited.

“But with the student’s parents being who they are, the school board will overrule me if I don’t follow through on this to the letter.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “This happens, so don’t fret. But, be careful of what you say, and if anything happens that you think I should know about, don’t hesitate to share it with me, okay?”

I mentally reviewed things that I thought she might want to know about and other than Ezra and I having a relationship outside of school, I was coming up empty.

“Okay,” I sighed and stood up.

With my next period now suddenly free, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.

All of my work that I’d brought was back in my classroom where I was sure Ezra was on his way to, but I wasn’t sure what I should do.

“Can I go back and get my stuff?” I asked. “Or should I wait until after school?”

She shooed me away with her hand. “Go back and get it.”

I did, leaving the principal’s office behind.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I wasn’t prepared for the hand that came around my arm to jerk me to a stop.

The fingers bit into the fat of my armpit, and I cried out in pain.

My eyes jerked up, and I found myself face to face with Mackie.

I glowered, jerking my arm away, and put distance between us.

All the while, my heart pounded.

Before I could ask him what had happened, or anything about why he’d squeezed so hard, Ezra rounded the corner, a scowl on his face.

When he saw Mackie standing so close to me, his scowl darkened.

“Back up, Mackie,” Ezra barked.

“Sorry, Coach.” Mackie backed away with his hands in the air. “I didn’t want her to fall. Floor’s wet.”

I looked down, and sure enough, the floor was wet.

But I’d been in no danger of falling.

I had on fairly slip-resistant shoes, but Mackie’s words did ring true when he explained his actions.

My arm still throbbed where he’d gripped me, but I couldn’t very well contradict the kid.

I was prone to busting my ass—and had actually done that quite a few times.

Many of which had been in this very hallway.

Needless to say, I was not the most graceful of teachers.

“Thanks,” I murmured, trying not to rub my arm and tip Ezra off. “I didn’t know it was wet.”

Mackie’s eyes didn’t show a hint of anything.

No anger. No pity. No derision. No happiness. No nothing.

It was weird, really.

But before I could think to say anything else, Morgan rounded the corner, a look of worry on his face.

“Uh, Coach?” Morgan paused. “Ms. Crusie? Someone broke into your desk. All your stuff is spread out all over the classroom. Johnson and Mackie helped me to the bathroom, and we weren’t in there for five minutes tops.”

Forgetting the wet floor, I took off in the direction of the senior hallway, as well as my classroom that wasn’t my classroom any longer.

I came to a halt in the doorway with Ezra standing right behind me.

His growl made my chest vibrate.

Heart in my throat, I walked into the room and scowled at all the papers—the tests—and my things that were scattered everywhere. My gradebook was also ripped to shreds, as well as any receipt that was in my purse.

Hell, even my tampons had been opened and thrown all over the floor.

The money from my wallet was splayed across the desk, and all of my spare change was on the floor surrounding where my purse had been hastily dumped.

The only thing that wasn’t a mess was the answer sheet, which was clearly displayed in front of the entire room full of students—which were early for once, likely due to the commotion.

“Shit,” Ezra pushed past me to gather my things.

I picked up my phone and keys, followed shortly by my money.

Ezra got the extras, like my toothpaste and mini-toothbrush.

I picked up the tests last and threw them in the trash.

It didn’t matter now what I would’ve used. I was no longer the teacher for this course, and since it was nearing the end of school anyway, it didn’t really matter any longer.

Once my things were cleaned up, I smiled at the students—at least the ones that weren’t looking at me with blank faces—i.e., Mackie.

I headed to the door without another word, and Johnson was the one to stop me.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

I turned to survey the group. “Ezra—Coach McDuff—has decided to take the class back over. Now that he’s found time again.”