Every Wrong Reason(61)

Chapter Seventeen


24. It’s me. I’m beyond damaged.




Christmas break was within my reach. If I could make it through this day, I’d have three and a half blissful weeks of break.

Granted most of my plans included binge-watching Netflix shows… but the point was I wouldn’t have to get out of my pajamas for days.

That was glorious.

Especially because this Chicago winter was unbearable and my pajamas were warm and fleece and heavenly.

Nick used to tease me that I turned into an Eskimo during winter break. He was right. Hamilton was frigid during the winter months. Our school building was painfully out of date and the heaters never worked properly.

Sentenced to look somewhat like a professional every day, I had to shiver through the majority of my classes and wonder if my health insurance covered frostbite.

Christmas break was the one reprieve I got between November and March. I could finally be warm for days on end. My teeth could stop chattering and my toes could regain feeling.

I just had to make it to the end of the day. Tonight I had a date with an entire pot of hot chocolate, cheesy potato soup that I was determined to make from scratch and old Christmas movies.

This was the first time I had something to look forward to in months and it was hard to contain my excitement.

I shuffled papers during my plan period and tried not to doodle on them. It was hard to explain hearts and stars bordering my students’ essays. Usually, if I forgot myself and ended up drawing some stupid little doodle, I had to then come up with something positive to say next to it-like I’d meant to put it there.

But these particular essays were exceptionally bad. And I couldn’t find the willpower to write “Great point!” or “Way to think outside the box.”

These were, without a doubt, inside the box. Inside the cliff-notes-version-absolute-bare-minimum box.

Something slammed against the lockers outside my classroom and I squeaked in surprise. My heart immediately jumped into overdrive with the possibilities of what that sound meant.

No, I cringed. Not on the last day.

Please don’t make me call the police.

I really didn’t want to fill out paperwork today of all days. I just wanted to survive finals, go home and bundle up until only my eyes could be seen. And my fingers when I needed to push buttons on the remote.

Was that really so much to ask?

“I’ll kill you, motherf*cker.” Another body or maybe it was the same body slammed into the locker again and I jumped to my feet.

They, whoever they were, sounded serious.

A surge of adrenaline pulsed through me and I fumbled with my locked drawer for a minute. When I finally wrenched it open, I grabbed my phone and left the drawer dangling there. I didn’t have time to worry about someone stealing my wallet right now.

Besides, I didn’t get paid until Friday. All they would get from me today was one, embarrassingly low credit limit and three hundred dollars in my checking account.

I sprinted into the hall and then slid to a stop. I should have looked first. Goddamn it, I should have called for help first.

Andre Gonzalez had Jay Allen pressed against the lockers on my side of the hallway with a knife balanced against his throat. A small bead of blood dripped from a tiny cut in Jay’s neck and I swallowed against the panic that crimson dot pulled out of me.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I sounded as afraid as I felt and I hated my weakness.

Two of Andre’s gangster friends flanked him. Neither had produced a weapon yet, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think they didn’t have one. They glared at me with a wildness that sent my stomach plummeting to my toes.

“Go back in your classroom, Ms. C,” Andre instructed. “You don’t want to get involved in this.”

He was not wrong.

Jay pushed against Andre, pulling everyone’s attention back to him. “You’re dead, puta. You should never have put your hands on me.”

“How-how did you get that past the metal detectors?” I squeezed my cellphone in my hand and wondered where the other teachers were. Where were the other students? Except that this wing of the school was mostly quiet during this period. I glanced up and down the hall, but most of the classrooms were dark.

Andre grinned and it sickened me. There was a calculated maliciousness there that didn’t seem right. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, teach.”

“Andre, please let him go. You can’t kill him at school. It’s almost Christmas break. Can’t you kill him during that?”

Andre cocked his head back in surprise. His grin spread and genuine laughter barked out of him. “He’ll run. I’ll never find him if I let him go now.”

“Please don’t kill him,” I pleaded. Everything inside of me shook. I could barely stay standing. Tears pricked at my eyes and adrenaline surged through me, making everything feel extra bright, extra real.

Andre stood up suddenly and pressed his fingers against the dull side of the knife to close it. He slipped it back into his pocket and shrugged casually. “Ms. Carter, it’s just a figure of speech. I wasn’t really going to kill him.”

I nodded to reassure him, but I didn’t believe him. Not in any way. “I know,” I whispered.

Andre’s scary gaze swung back to Jay, “You’d better get my money.”