Page 3 of Apparently, I’m Torture

Mia scoffed. “Treviboy, don’t you even think about pushing her classes onto me.”

I envied the way Mia refused to change the way she spoke to Trevor. I think she felt it reminded him that we all graduated at the same time, had a similar amount of experience, and that I used to serve him free coffee at Tristy’s Coffee Shop while I balanced the study load from our university. And I think he let her get away with it because so much of his disgust was pointed at me.

Even now, he leaned back in his chair as I faltered, the familiar churn in my stomach swirling and gurgling as I recognized what he was doing.

I’m a good teacher. He can’t take my classes from me.

Brianna touched Trevor’s arm. “Trevor, the semester is almost over. Let the ladies keep their schedules. We don’t want to disrupt the students.”

His lips thinned and he nodded. Ugh. How did I ever stomach dating him?

“Alright fine. Would you both give Lilly and I a few minutes alone?”

Mia met my glance, saw the confusion there, and stood. She gave my shoulder a squeeze on her way out.

Once we were alone, Trevor leaned back in his chair, and raked his cold blue eyes across me like I was a piece of trash he was dying to throw out.

“There’s a final piece of business before we wrap up for the day. The Educational Arts of New York fundraiser is coming up.”

“Uh, yes…” I was instantly confused. Why was Trevor bringing the fundraiser up? “It’s six weeks away, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Working on it takes up half of the summer break. Lilly, you’ll represent our school and assist them in putting the event together.”

I jerked back.

Me? Why me?

“Uh, but the event is run by department heads from each local school. Isn’t it… your job?”

I balked at how accusatory I sounded, but I couldn’t help it. When it came to Trevor, I was just trying to tread water at this point.

He tsked and rolled his eyes back to the ceiling. I hated when he did that. It felt so condescending.

“We’re choosing teachers from our faculties this year. It’s to give teachers a chance to prove themselves outside of the classroom. Of all of us, you have the right kind of experience.”

I sat forward, trying to keep my voice even. “What makes you think that?”

He cocked his head at me. “Lilly, we went to college together. I know you sat on the fundraising board of Kappa Delta for five years in a row.”

“But,” I spluttered, “That was a long time ago. It’s not like I can switch that part of my brain back on and walk into a fundraising event like I know what I’m doing.”

Trevor let out a breath of defeat, his head hanging between his slouching shoulders like a drooping balloon. Oh, I’d have so much fun popping that balloon.

“Okay, look, I didn’t want to bring this up again, but this is serious. Parents are starting to complain. You’re on thin ice here.”

Panic gripped me, its frigid fingers wrapping around my lungs. “What do you mean ‘thin ice’?”

He shrugged. “It should be obvious by now that the principal and I aren’t exactly thrilled with the low test scores coming from your classes.”

The room began to shrink, and my panic morphed to dread, low and heavy in my stomach. “But–”

“I can’t fight her off forever. The principal needs results.”

Saliva built in my mouth, and I swallowed it down. This was not a good time to lose control.

“But, we’ve been taught not to teach to the test. How am I supposed to start doing the opposite of that?”

“I’ve set up a professional development module for you and I’ve talked it over with the principal. I also suggested the fundraiser as a way to prove how serious you are about your job.”