Page 61 of The Teacher

I stand up and immediately get to work picking up the answer sheets from each table. I won’t be marking these papers, it’s got to be an independent process, so they’re getting posted to an independent adjudicator to be judged. I just hope my students have done well.

I come across James and Tom. They’re sitting a desk apart.

“How do you think you went, boys?” I ask, picking up their answer sheets.

They both shrug and mumble at me. Typical teenage boys; communicating through monkey grunts. I take it they don’t even know how they went in the exam. This just sets my heart rate faster.

Oh, no.

With all the answer sheets taken, the students leave. All filing out the door and back into the school grounds. As they leave, a shadowy figure appears at the doorway, letting them pass.

Miss Tweed.

She’s here? What for?

She waits until all the students have left the room, smiling at each of them with her frightening smile, and then steps into the room. I’m busy clearing up and putting the exam tables and chairs back into place. I try to ignore her, but she shuffles up right up to me, still smiling.

“Did the exam go well, Miss Finn?” she asks in her high-pitched voice. I pick up a nearby chair and place it neatly against the wall, trying to show her my nonchalance at her presence. But Miss Tweed doesn’t care. She’s here to insult me, I know, and she isn’t going to stop.

“I think so. You never know with these things, don’t you? Even the students don’t know.”

“Well,” Miss Tweed replies, following me around the room. I can’t deal with her stalking me like this. “Hopefully English is not going to be the worst subject in these exams, for your sake.”

“For my sake?”

“I’ve still got my eye on you, Miss Finn. Don’t you forget that.”

I’ve had enough of this.

I turn around then, dropping the chair in my hands. I’m facing the small woman now. Her puffy hair reaches my nose. “What do you want, Miss Tweed? What do you want?”

Miss Tweed blinks as if taken aback. She gasps in fake surprise.

Oh, she’s mocking me.

“I want you to get fired, Sandy,” she says without hesitation. “I want you to get sacked. I thought you knew that.”

I really can’t believe this. I can’t believe how blunt she is. Miss Tweed wants me sacked and is unafraid to admit it. She’s just simply horrible.

“You’ve really got it in for me, don’t you?” I ask, crossing my arms.

“Your firing is so close to happening,” she says. It’s like she’s enjoying every minute of this like she’s savoring the venomous words that drip out from her mouth. “Oh, and don’t forget the school fundraiser at my house on Sunday night. I really do hope you can make it, Miss Finn.”

She smiles at me one last time that waddles out of the room back through the door. She’s gone.

What a bitch.

Great. I’m worried about the exam, worried about Skipper, and now worried about Miss Tweed working day and night to fire me.

What fun times.

22

SANDY

The elevator doors ping open and I step into the hotel hallway, turning my head left and right to spot the signs as to where I’m going. But I don’t need to find out what direction I need to go.

This particular hotel room practically covers the entire top floor of New Water’s luxury hotel.