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ChapterFour
Paislee
Icouldn’t think of anything else the rest of the day except the look on Mr. Vaughn's face after I had gone off on him. I didn’t want to, but the man had been asking for it. No one had ever infuriated me like he did. No one had ever told me I wasn't good at my job or even implied it. Hearing that for the first time and knowing deep down that it wasn’t true, had completely enraged me.
If there is anything I believe in, it is my ability to impart knowledge and to relate well with kids. I've been bestowed several awards to show for it. But I still regret the way I
spoke to him and I wish I could make amends. Having an altercation with a parent is against the rules and I know it could very well affect the way I relate with Callie. If it turns out that Mr. Vaughn truly hates me, he could pull Callie out of school. Or worse, he could completely drag my name through the mud to the board.
I shake my head at myself. I don't need to think that far. Even though I am aware there will be consequences for the way I spoke to him, I am almost certain it won’t be that dire.
Contrary to what Mr. Vaughn had said, even though I am only twenty-six, I am still one of the best. I have been awarded best teacher twice in the three years I’ve managed to teach at the school. I don't think they'd readily let me go just like that. But then again, it is not entirely impossible.
Restless and bothered, I pick up my phone and dial my friend Meghan. She picks up on the first ring as if she has been sitting and staring at the phone, willing it to ring. With how much Meghan hates her job, I wouldn't put it past her.
“Hello, Meghan.” I greet. “How are you?”
“I am tired and ready to be dead and gone.”
Meghan's words cause me to let out a low chuckle.
"You know that ain't happening," I say, mimicking an old Norwegian accent.
“God, I hate my job.” Meghan groans.
I don't hate my job. It’s just times like this, when I feel like I have done the unthinkable, I wonder if maybe there is a small part of me that does hate it.
It isn’t easy to cater to nine-year-old’s. They are so impressionable, and I understand how very delicate they are at this age. I understand how difficult it is for Callie, which explains why I am so drawn to her. She is struggling, and from the strained conversation I had with her father, he is completely unaware of that fact.
At the thought of Mr. Vaughn, the words I’d hurled at him came back to me again and I shut my eyes in embarrassment. I remember claiming that he had only ever spent an hour with his little girl, as if I had been spending time with them to even see that.
“Please tell me you are calling to invite me out for drinks. Give me a reason to leave this torturous underground.” Meghan's voice draws me out of my musings, and I chuckle. “So, drinks tonight?”
"Yes," I reply because I feel like I need to share what happened with someone. Someone who knows and understands me.
“Oh, thank God. Our usual spot?” Meghan asks.
“Of course,” I confirm.
There is a bar downtown we love to visit. We've sort of made it our secret hideout and we meet as infrequently as our tight work schedules will allow.
“Alright. I'll head there straight from work.”
“Good. I'll see you in two hours, Meghan.” I say and hang up.
* * *
I step into the crowded bar and look around. I know Meghan has not yet arrived since I left my apartment a little early. I hadn't been able to stand another moment alone with my thoughts and quickly dressed and headed out. I head straight to the bar and claim a stool, dropping my purse on another seat to save it for Meghan.
The bartender knows me well enough to flash a polite smile my way.
“The usual?” He asks.
I nod.
My throat feels parched, and I can't wait to have the drink slide down it. I watch as the bartender expertly mixes my dirty martini and pushes it to me in less than a minute. The moment I wrap my eager fingers around it, a throat clears behind me.
My stomach churns because the last person to do that was the billionaire. He could very well be plotting to have me killed and my body cremated so that there is no trace of me left. When I turn around, I find not Mr. Vaughn behind me but my dear friend Meghan.
