See Me After Class(119)

“Oh God, Keeks, that’s awful,” I say, my heart reaching out to her.

“I didn’t know what to make of the criticism.” She pushes her glasses up. “Principal Dewitt graced me with her tutelage and advised me on how to express myself better around the students and how to educate them with my quirks, rather than alienate them.” She clears her throat. “Although, as the human race, we consider our individual selves to be astute in our daily practices, perhaps the truth is, we’re not. Growth is key to happiness. Growth might hurt at first, but the anguish is worth it in the end.”

Hell . . .

“But he told her he loved her,” Stella says, letting Keiko’s profound words roll right off her. “They were going to move in this weekend. There’s a difference. You weren’t in a loving, committed relationship with George Calhoun.”

“Perhaps not. So what does that say about Arlo?”

“That he’s a dick,” Cora says, taking another bite of her donut.

“Or that he didn’t let his feelings blind him. Instead, he showed true character. I’ve seen lack of character in a man, and it’s unappealing. Intellectually, Arlo Turner isn’t blinded by sexual compulsion but rather driven by the impulse to improve. From the inward pucker of your supraorbital ridges, I can observe that I hold the unpopular opinion, but I trust Arlo’s intentions were not meant to be ill-willed, but for the betterment of our dear comrade and the school.”

The room falls silent, and I wonder if the girls are all thinking the same thing I am . . .

That Keeks sounds like she’s making sense right now. And maybe . . . I can’t see anything past my humiliation and shame.

Because I’ve never been told I’m not good enough.





“Good morning.” I don’t have to turn around to know who just walked into my classroom. I could feel his presence before he opened his mouth.

I spent the weekend wrapped up in a pair of old sweatpants, nursing a gallon of ice cream, and binge-watching Friends because it was the only thing that didn’t make me want to start crying all over again.

After the girls left, I felt even more confused than before.

I wanted to be mad.

I had the right to be mad.

But for some reason, what Keeks said made sense, and that was a tough pill to swallow. One I’m not ready to acknowledge.

“I’m busy,” I say while writing out essay questions to be answered during class today.

“I know. I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I was just hoping that we could speak tonight.”

“I’m busy tonight.”

“Greer, you can’t just shut me out without talking to me.”

I glance toward him, and it’s the first time I’m catching his distraught appearance. Dark circles under his eyes, hair barely done, and instead of a cardigan, he’s wearing a half-crumpled button-up shirt.

Good. He had a bad weekend just like me.

“I can actually do whatever I want. I’m an adult and in charge of my own life.”

“Greer, we love each other.”

“Yeah, well, that was before you went behind my back and tried to ruin my teaching career.” The anger starts to make an appearance again—thank God—and Keiko’s words quickly fade into the background.

“I wasn’t trying to ruin your teaching career. I’d never do that to someone. They asked my honest opinion. I told them. The intention was to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” I yell.

“Hey.” Gunner comes into my classroom. “I can hear you two down the hall.”

I press my hand to my forehead in distress. “You need to leave before I lose my shit.”

“Not until you agree to talk to me.”

Looking at Gunner, I say, “Get him out of here, now, or I’ll cause a scene, and I don’t care what happens to me after.”

Hand to Arlo’s chest, Gunner says, “Come on, man. Dewitt won’t tolerate this scene. She’s been cool with teachers dating because there’s never been drama. Don’t let it start now.”

His eyes plead with me one last time, but I turn away from him and focus on the whiteboard in front of me.

“Greer . . . I’m sorry,” he says, his voice full of regret. “I hope you know just how fucking sorry I am.”

I don’t look at him. No, I swallow back the wave of emotion that hits me and will myself not to cry.

Today is going to be exponentially harder than I thought.

Not just today . . . but being here in general.

Especially since I can’t get the defeated look on his face out of my mind.





Chapter Twenty-Seven





ARLO





“Dude, what the fuck happened?” Gunner asks, shutting the door to my classroom. “Last I knew, you weren’t yelling at each other, you were in love, and she was moving in.”

I grip the back of my neck, completely distressed.

I spent the entire weekend trying to talk to her. Texts, phone calls . . . at one point I attempted to go to her place, but Coraline stopped me at the door and told me to give her some space.

I didn’t want to give her space. I wanted to talk to her. I didn’t want her thinking I went behind her back to be manipulative or to ruin her career, which she seems to believe. I wanted to fix things. I wanted to pack her up. I wanted her living with me, damn it.