Page 17 of Check You Out

“Ms. Hartlett, did you actually read my email? Because what you just said is not at all what happened.” He nods. “I see. You skimmed it. Well, I can certainly summarize the report to you, so you can get the full story.” He opens his mouth to say more, but he is interrupted by a shriller garbled muffling from the phone. “He was definitely not trying to ‘Kobe’ it. How do I know? Well, the trash can is on the other side of the room, and the pad hit the board right behind me. From where he was sitting, it is logical to assume that he was aiming it at me. He said, and I quote, ‘Heads up’. Contrary to the fictional account he told you, Jackson threw that pad of Post-it notes at me.”

The garbled voice becomes shriller and louder. Aidan holds the phone farther from his ear, and Ms. Hartlett’s voice is loud and clear. “My Jackson wouldn’t do such a thing! He’s not a liar!”

“I see. Quick question, did you ask Jackson where he was on Saturday night? When he told you that he was going to Bradley’s for a sleepover?”

Ms. Hartlett resumes talking but muffled again.

“He was bragging to his friends on Monday that he snuck into the bedroom of Hayley Schmidt.”

The muffled voice is silent. My eyes grow wide, and I struggle to stifle a laugh. Aidan listens for a few more moments as the voice continues.

“Thank you, Ms. Hartlett. I appreciate you speaking with Jackson. I’ll see him in class. Have a great afternoon.” He hangs up the phone and sets it down, rubbing his hand over his face and emitting a low groan. “Little fucker,” he mutters.

I cross my arms and lean back in my chair to look at him. “If it makes you feel any better, his mom was the same way. I went to high school with her. She was a bit of a bully.” I grit my teeth. “I caught my high school boyfriend making out with her on Prom Night.”

Aidan’s face softens. “I am so sorry.”

“She’s one of those book banning ladies,” I remark. “Probably our biggest opponent. She got mad at me because I had a Pride display last year. She had the gall to accuse me of selling pornography to children.” I let out a chuckle. “She didn’t realize that Sheriff Hudson is a very out lesbian. That was fun.”

He lets out a groan. “She reported me to my principal because I have Song of Solomon as one of the books we read. Called it an offense to God.”

“Meanwhile, she’s never read the book.” I scrunch my face. “I’m sorry you have to deal with her.”

“She thinks her precious little baby is incapable of doing anything wrong. I won’t get an apology, and I can guarantee he’ll whine at me tomorrow for ratting him out.” He lets out a half-sigh, half-groan and taps away at his computer. “Sorry, I just need to write a note that I talked to his mom and what was said. Everything must be documented.”

“You’re fine.” I take another sip from my latte. “How long have you been teaching?”

He chews on his lower lip and studies the wall for a few seconds, then turns back to me. “Almost ten years.”

“Have you always taught at Summerville High?” I ask.

“No.” He continues tapping as he talks. “I taught at Canterbury High.” I resist the urge to boo my alma mater’s rival. “This is my first year at Summerville.”

“Why’d you change schools?”

“I was surplused.” He closes his laptop and takes a sip of his latte. His face softens, and he regards the latte with a bemused expression. “This is pretty good.”

“What do you mean, you were ‘surplused’?”

He leans back in his chair. “It’s when the school system eliminates your position at that particular school, but you have tenure and they can’t fire you. They involuntarily transfer you to another school with an opening.”

“Do you have a choice where you go?” I ask, taking another bite of my scone.

He lifts one shoulder. “Nope. You interview with different schools, and then they offer you a placement. If you don’t like it, you’re basically out of a job.”

“How do they decide if you get moved?”

“Seniority. Last one in, first one out,” he grumbles. “It fucking sucks. I don’t like change.” He grits his teeth. “That’s not to say that I don’t like Summerville. The other teachers are great, and for the most part, the kids are great. Admin is the same everywhere. Now I’ve gotten to like working here, and I just hope I don’t get surplused again.” There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he talks.

He reaches for his scone and reopens his laptop. “Sorry, that’s enough school talk. I’ve derailed us from our purpose.”

I wave him away. “No worries. Can I ask you a question, related to the library?”

He nods.

“My high school boyfriend was Stephen Gott.”

“I heard.”