This Might Hurt(60)

“What about the tenth student?”

I frowned. “Should we re-enroll him in the beginners’ course with a different instructor? He’s still showing up late to class, not making much of an effort.” I tugged Mom’s scarf tighter. “Jeremiah searched the student’s room like you said. He found a cell phone in the desk drawer.”

“Send him home.”

My eyes widened. “But—”

She slapped her own face, hard. I gawked. “That’s what sneaking a phone here feels like to me. The program has to come first. We don’t do three strikes.” She calmed. “You know that, Kitten.”

I swooned. She had never used a nickname for me before. She rose from her desk chair and gestured for me to join her on the velvet couch. We sat close together. The right side of her face had a red handprint where she’d struck herself. She rested her hand on my knee, danced a finger in little circles around the bone. My spine tingled.

“I have to be able to count on your judgment if I’m going to bring you on as an employee.”

I gasped. She bit back a smile.

“Seriously?” I had hoped this would happen but knew Teacher preferred to keep her staff small. According to Jeremiah, the only reason he’d been brought on was to organize Wisewood’s finances. He claimed Teacher didn’t even like him that much—the disarray of her bookkeeping was that bad.

She pointed at my clipboard. “You practically are one already. I think it’s time to make it official.”

My head spun. “So I would live here . . .”

“Indefinitely. You won’t have to leave when your six months are up. You won’t have an income but you’ll get a free room, free meals, free course work. No more worrying about taxes and the rest of the government’s headaches. We’ll help with the student loan. We’re here for you.” She squeezed my knee.

I considered what I’d be leaving behind: happy hours with my coworkers, walks through Central Park, mirrors, the internet, Domino’s at two a.m. When I came here, I never intended to stay.

I had spent the past weeks reimagining my career. Maybe the key was avoiding office gigs. I thought I’d like working outside or with animals. I’d toyed with moving to Colorado or Wyoming. I could become a nature guide, host white-water rafting trips. When I’d mentioned my ideas to Teacher, she’d told me the world beyond Wisewood wouldn’t care about my Maximized Self. No matter where I moved or what job I took, they would try to change me. At the time, I was deflated. But she could’ve been grooming me for this job all along.

Teacher’s face had turned stony. “If you’re not interested, I’ll find someone else.” She gripped my knee. When I squeaked in pain, she released me and shifted away.

I had finally found peace. I’d met people who understood me. But I still hadn’t apologized to Nat for treating her like the bad guy after Mom’s death—before it too, if I was being honest. At the very least, I’d have to let her know I wouldn’t be returning to New York in January. Could I live here for years to come? For the rest of my life?

“Don’t make me ask again.”

I would make amends with Nat. I could always leave Wisewood if I changed my mind. I didn’t have to stay forever.

My eyes welled. “I’m shocked is all.”

She softened. “What’s the matter?” She leaned in to rub my back the way Mom used to. I could think about Mom now without feeling a gaping loss in my chest. Wisewood had done that for me.

“You’re the first person to tell me I’m special. My entire adult life, the question has been how much I have to conform. I never considered I don’t have to change at all.”

“That’s the power of our program.” Teacher clasped my hands in hers, ran her thumbs over my knuckles. “Is that a yes?” Hope crept into her voice.

“I’m in.” I beamed. “A hundred percent.”

“Excellent.” She dropped my hands and rose from the couch. “I’ll have Gordon bring you a contract.” She went back to her desk and resumed writing in her notepad.

I stood on trembling legs. “Thank you for the opportunity, Teacher. I won’t let you down.” She waved in acknowledgment but didn’t glance up. The work was so important to her.

As I turned to leave she said, “I doubt those friends of yours will approve.”

I stopped in my tracks. “April and Georgina?”

“They don’t have your best interest at heart.” She was still scribbling away. “Trust me.”

Had they been talking about me again? “I hardly see them anymore.”

I waited but Teacher didn’t say anything else, so I left the office and hurried down the staircase. I ignored the heaviness in my chest, focused on my happy news instead. I couldn’t wait to tell the others.

I rushed outside into a gloomy October evening. The temperature had dropped to the fifties. The sky was dim by five these days. A bitter draft zipped past me, hinting at harsher weather to come. The motion-sensor lights along the walkway clicked on as I loped through the garden. We had harvested most of the fruits and vegetables in the past couple of weeks. Without the bounty the tracts resembled cemetery plots. I thought of Mom back in California, waiting for me to put flowers on her grave. When was the last time Nat had visited her?