Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(8)

“Well . . . yeah.”

“Trish, you’re not getting fired. If teachers were fired every time a student said we were bad at our jobs, human resources would have to put a revolving door in. He was angry. He’ll go to gym, blow off some steam, and forget all about it by lunch. Don’t worry about it.”

Horror swept across Trish’s face. “But, he has gym after lunch.”

Man, this girl was really missing the point. “Listen, it’s understandable that you’re nervous, and you want all of the kids to like you, and you want to be perfect at your job. But it’s not going to happen. They’re kids. They say things they don’t mean all the time. You’re the adult and you need to act like it. Don’t let them rile you with idle threats or they’ll walk all over you all year long. Keep a cool head and everything will be fine.”

“Okay, you’re right.” She released a deep breath. “God, you must think I’m a total lunatic.” Her eyes stayed on the floor as she spoke, as if she were bracing herself for my response.

I don't just think it, sweetheart. But I knew I had to be more supportive in this moment, so I kept my thought to myself. “I think you’re a passionate teacher who has a lot to learn. Just like every other first-year teacher in the world. It’ll get better. I promise.”

She looked up at me and smiled broadly. “Thanks, Lily. I really appreciate your help. And sorry for interrupting your class.”

My comforting words had clearly put her at ease. Restraint was starting to suit me. Who would have guessed? “Don’t worry about it. I prefer to spend as little time working as possible, so I welcome the disruption,” I said with a wink.

She smiled at me again as she said goodbye and headed down the hallway.

I giggled to myself as I reentered my classroom, thinking about how much fun it would be to get Trish drunk.

***

The bell rang, signaling the end of third period and my stomach lurched. Okay, Lily, time to man up and get this over with. I yanked open my bottom right desk drawer and reached into my purse, pulling out my phone and the scrap of paper I had written Marjorie’s number on. I dialed and then took a shaky breath as I listened to the rings. My breath hitched when I heard the voice that was somehow so familiar to me, despite my only having ever heard it twice before.

“Hello?”

I cleared my throat before speaking, my nerves frazzling. “Hi, Marjorie. It’s Lily.”

***

After my conversation with Max’s mom, I'd been on edge the rest of the day. I'd gone to CrossFit after work to relieve a little stress, but once I got home and had nothing to think about except my phone call with Marjorie, my nerves got the best of me. I couldn’t wait for Amanda to get home. I needed to sort this shit out, and I obviously couldn’t do that on my own. So when she finally walked through the door at nearly 10:30, I basically attacked her. “Were you at work this whole time? What the f*ck have you been doing? I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”

“Not what. Who.”

“Huh?”

“You mean who I’ve been doing. And the answer’s Kyle,” she said with an overly exaggerated sigh as she threw her bag by the door and plopped herself down on the couch. “God, that man can f*ck. He brings the ‘benefits’ part of ‘friends with benefits’ to a whole new level.”

“That good, huh?” I asked, intrigued. I’d been living vicariously through Amanda lately because I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d gotten laid. Well, that’s not entirely true. It was more that I just preferred not to think about the last time. With Adam. Almost five months ago. Christ, that’s one hell of a dry spell.

“Oh,” she replied, somehow managing to make the two-lettered word into three dramatically long syllables. “He came to my office with a pizza for me. Then he . . . came in my office. Well, on my thong, to be exa—”

“I think I get the picture,” I said, cutting her off mid-thought. “And it does sound awesome. But I don’t need the details.” Sometimes I forgot how many graphic details Amanda liked to dish out with very little prompting. She really had no shame. And part of me loved her for it.

“It really was awesome, Lil. You should’ve been there.”

“Um . . . I think I’m glad I wasn’t.”

Amanda laughed loudly when she realized the meaning of what she’d said. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, a hot guy bringing me a pizza to work and then banging the daylights out of me does sound pretty appealing,” I admitted after a little thought. “Shit, at this point I’d be happy if someone just brought me a pizza.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at my momentary self-pity, though we both knew that when it came to the whole "sex at work" thing, I had been there, done that. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to have a repeat of that disaster. “What was it you couldn’t wait to tell me?” Amanda finally asked.

“Well, I actually need your advice on something.”

“You? Need my advice? You must have really gotten yourself in a jam. What is it this time? Three men? A professional athlete, a hot dad, and a billionaire?” she asked with a laugh.

I rolled my eyes at her sarcastic accusation.

“Four guys? You horny devil. When are you gonna learn your lesson?”