Every Wrong Reason

  Christmas break was within my reach. If I could make it through this day, I’d have three and a half blissful weeks of break.

  Granted most of my plans included binge-watching Netflix shows… but the point was I wouldn’t have to get out of my pajamas for days.

  That was glorious.

  Especially because this Chicago winter was unbearable and my pajamas were warm and fleece and heavenly.

  Nick used to tease me that I turned into an Eskimo during winter break. He was right. Hamilton was frigid during the winter months. Our school building was painfully out of date and the heaters never worked properly.

  Sentenced to look somewhat like a professional every day, I had to shiver through the majority of my classes and wonder if my health insurance covered frostbite.

  Christmas break was the one reprieve I got between November and March. I could finally be warm for days on end. My teeth could stop chattering and my toes could regain feeling.

  I just had to make it to the end of the day. Tonight I had a date with an entire pot of hot chocolate, cheesy potato soup that I was determined to make from scratch and old Christmas movies.

  This was the first time I had something to look forward to in months and it was hard to contain my excitement.

  I shuffled papers during my plan period and tried not to doodle on them. It was hard to explain hearts and stars bordering my students’ essays. Usually, if I forgot myself and ended up drawing some stupid little doodle, I had to then come up with something positive to say next to it- like I’d meant to put it there.

  But these particular essays were exceptionally bad. And I couldn’t find the willpower to write “Great point!” or “Way to think outside the box.”

  These were, without a doubt, inside the box. Inside the cliff-notes-version-absolute-bare-minimum box.

  Something slammed against the lockers outside my classroom and I squeaked in surprise. My heart immediately jumped into overdrive with the possibilities of what that sound meant.

  No, I cringed. Not on the last day.

  Please don’t make me call the police.

  I really didn’t want to fill out paperwork today of all days. I just wanted to survive finals, go home and bundle up until only my eyes could be seen. And my fingers when I needed to push buttons on the remote.

  Was that really so much to ask?

  “I’ll kill you, motherfucker.” Another body or maybe it was the same body slammed into the locker again and I jumped to my feet.

  They, whoever they were, sounded serious.

  A surge of adrenaline pulsed through me and I fumbled with my locked drawer for a minute. When I finally wrenched it open, I grabbed my phone and left the drawer dangling there. I didn’t have time to worry about someone stealing my wallet right now.

  Besides, I didn’t get paid until Friday. All they would get from me today was one, embarrassingly low credit limit and three hundred dollars in my checking account.

  I sprinted into the hall and then slid to a stop. I should have looked first. Goddamn it, I should have called for help first.

  Andre Gonzalez had Jay Allen pressed against the lockers on my side of the hallway with a knife balanced against his throat. A small bead of blood dripped from a tiny cut in Jay’s neck and I swallowed against the panic that crimson dot pulled out of me.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” I sounded as afraid as I felt and I hated my weakness.

  Two of Andre’s gangster friends flanked him. Neither had produced a weapon yet, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think they didn’t have one. They glared at me with a wildness that sent my stomach plummeting to my toes.

  “Go back in your classroom, Ms. C,” Andre instructed. “You don’t want to get involved in this.”

  He was not wrong.

  Jay pushed against Andre, pulling everyone’s attention back to him. “You’re dead, puta. You should never have put your hands on me.”

  “How-how did you get that past the metal detectors?” I squeezed my cellphone in my hand and wondered where the other teachers were. Where were the other students? Except that this wing of the school was mostly quiet during this period. I glanced up and down the hall, but most of the classrooms were dark.

  Andre grinned and it sickened me. There was a calculated maliciousness there that didn’t seem right. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, teach.”

  “Andre, please let him go. You can’t kill him at school. It’s almost Christmas break. Can’t you kill him during that?”

  Andre cocked his head back in surprise. His grin spread and genuine laughter barked out of him. “He’ll run. I’ll never find him if I let him go now.”

  “Please don’t kill him,” I pleaded. Everything inside of me shook. I could barely stay standing. Tears pricked at my eyes and adrenaline surged through me, making everything feel extra bright, extra real.

  Andre stood up suddenly and pressed his fingers against the dull side of the knife to close it. He slipped it back into his pocket and shrugged casually. “Ms. Carter, it’s just a figure of speech. I wasn’t really going to kill him.”

  I nodded to reassure him, but I didn’t believe him. Not in any way. “I know,” I whispered.

  Andre’s scary gaze swung back to Jay, “You’d better get my money.”

  Jay jerked his chin up, “I’ll get it.”

  Andre took a step toward him again in an attempt to shield me from his next threat, “Better watch your back until it’s in my pocket, culo.”

  Jay’s jaw clenched dangerously, “I said I would get it.”

  Andre stepped back again and turned his attention to me. “You’ll never find this knife.”

  I understood what he was saying. I didn’t argue. “Okay.”

  “And you don’t have any witnesses. Jay’s not going to talk. Are you, Jay?”

  Jay didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I did, though. I needed to reassure Andre I wasn’t going to turn him in. “Okay, Andre. I won’t say anything either.”

  “It wouldn’t matter if you did or not,” Andre grinned. “There isn’t anyone to back you up.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t stop nodding. “I get it.”

  His smile died and he pinned me with a hard look. “Good.”

  Andre and his thugs walked down the hallway with the kind of swagger that told me they believed they were completely untouchable. They believed they could act like thugs and threaten teachers and hold knives to other people’s throats and nothing bad would ever happen to them.

  I watched them go and wondered if I would ever see Andre again. Sometimes things like this happened and the offending student never came back. As soon as their autonomy was questioned, they gave up school for good and left for the life they believed was inevitable. A life on the streets.

  I couldn’t decide if I wanted Andre to come back or not.

  On one hand, he was smart. Too freaking smart. He could do something with his life. He could go places. Do things.

  On the other hand, he had threatened me.

  This school.

  My legs finally gave out and I slid down the lockers until I was a messy heap on the floor. I felt like bursting into tears, but I held them back. I had to make it through the rest of the day. I couldn’t breakdown now.

  I’d wait until later… until I was locked safely in my home... until I was away from this place.

  Jay slid down next to me and I jumped. I’d forgotten he was here.

  He sat a foot away; his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He crossed his arms over his chest too and stared at his shoes thoughtfully.

  I didn’t know what to say to him. I knew what I wanted to say. I wanted to yell at him for ever getting caught up in something so stupid. I wanted to hit him on the back of the head and ask what the hell he was thinking. I wanted to know why he owed Andre money and how he planned to get out of this mess.

  I didn’t say anything.

  He wouldn’t have answered any of my questions. And honestly
, I was still trying to recover the ability to form words.

  I was a trembling, terrified mess.

  “Thanks, Ms. C.,” Jay finally said in a low, sincere voice.

  I looked up at him, jerking through an especially bad shiver and nodded my head. “Don’t ever let that happen near me again.”

  He looked over at me with big eyes. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  My fierce conviction was evident when I said, “I mean it, Jay. Next time I’ll call the cops before I ever step foot outside my classroom. Don’t think I won’t.”

  “You should have done that today!” The look in his dark eyes told me he meant it. “In fact, you should never have come out here! Damn, Ms. C., what were you thinking? Isn’t there school policy or some shit? Next time call the police and lock your damn door.”

  I ignored all of his valid points and growled, “Goddamn, Jay! There better not be a next time.”

  His lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh and I wanted to smack him again. “There won’t be. At least not at school anyway.”

  “You shouldn’t be messed up with this.” I dropped my face into my hands so that my words were muffled but still loud enough for him to hear. “You should know better. You’re too smart for this shit.”

  “This shit?” This time I heard him chuckle but I chose to ignore it. “Besides, Ms. C., you have to say that. You’re my teacher.”

  I let my hands fall to my lap, “Maybe I have to say it, but it’s also true. You’re brilliant, Jay. You could use that brain power for good.”

  “Not where I’m from.”

  “So move! Graduate from high school and move away. That neighborhood doesn’t define you. This city doesn’t define you. That’s something you get to decide. That’s your choice.”

  His jaw clenched again and I started to worry I was pushing him too hard. “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Because it is,” I promised him. “Talk to Ms. Chase about the opportunities there are for you in school. Talk to her about the ways to pay for it, the financial aid that’s available to you. Especially you, Jay.”

  He didn’t say anything for a really long time and when he did, it wasn’t exactly reassuring, but it was better than nothing. “Maybe.”

  “That’s all I ask,” I gave him a shaky smile. “And that you survive this year.”

  “I can say definitely to that,” he grinned back. “What about you, though? You going to be all right?”

  I looked down at my trembling hands. “I think so. I need a stiff drink, but I think I’ll be okay.” I looked up at him quickly. “I mean, coffee. I need a strong cup of coffee.”

  White teeth gleamed at me in the hallway. “I didn’t mean after today. I mean are you going to survive whatever shit you’re going through.”

  My eyes narrowed suspiciously, “How do you know I’m going through shit?”

  He made a scoffing sound, “Anyone that sees you can tell you’re going through something deep. You’re always looking off into space and trying not to cry. You’re a mess, Ms. C.”

  I smiled grimly against his honest assessment. “I’m going through a divorce.”

  “He beat you?”

  “God, no.” I started to ask him why he would think that but stopped myself. That abuse was his first guess said something about his home life I was positive he would never share with me. “We just… we don’t get along.”

  “Boo hoo,” Jay taunted. “I don’t know one married couple that does get along.” He bounced his heel on the gritty tile floor. “Come to think of it, though, I don’t know many married couples.”

  “Your parents aren’t married?”

  “It’s just me and my moms. Never met my dad.”

  I nodded to acknowledge that I’d heard him. When I put my life in perspective with Jay’s, he was right. Boo hoo. He came from extreme poverty, had never met his dad and seemed awfully quick to recover from having his life threatened.

  My problems were small.

  Nick and my problems were small.

  The bell rang and I stood up to my feet, brushing the back of my pants off. I speared Jay with my most serious glare. “Go talk to Ms. Chase, Jay. Ask about college. Be the one thing in my life that goes right.”

  He grinned up at me from the floor, looking more like a little boy than a soon-to-be man. “Okay, Carter. It’s the least I can do for saving my life.”

  I turned around and threw over my shoulder, “He wouldn’t have killed you on school property.”

  He didn’t respond and that only made me more nervous. I stepped inside my classroom, blinking against the bright fluorescent lights. I raced for my chair so I could sit down again. A few tears slid down my cheeks, but I quickly wiped them away.

  Students started to drift into the classroom and I had to hold myself together.

  I had to.

  Besides, all I had to do was administer a test. I could sit at my desk for the rest of the class and freak out as much as I needed to.

  I knew I wouldn’t keep this a secret. I would have to go to Kellar with it. But, I also knew that Andre hadn’t been lying. We would never find that knife. I also knew that Jay was as likely to turn Andre in as Andre was. Nobody would back up my story.

  Kellar would believe me, but there was nothing we could do.

  And I wouldn’t risk trying to punish Andre with a suspension because I was too afraid of how he would retaliate.

  I settled my students down and passed out the final exam. This was my sophomore class and the only class I had this year that I felt confident they’d actually learned something.

  As soon as they’d begun I sat back down, unable to support myself on legs made out of jelly. My hands still shook and my stomach felt very near the edge of upheaving itself.

  I had wanted to go home earlier.

  Now I was desperate for it.

  Finally, I couldn’t hold still. I picked up my cell that I’d dropped on my desk and stared at it.

  I had to tell someone, if not every little detail, just enough so that I felt better. I needed someone to care.

  I needed someone to be happy I wasn’t bleeding out in the hallway.

  I’m alive. After pressing send, I realized that was an odd text to send to someone.

  After a minute, Nick texted back. Was that in question?

  A powerful shiver jolted through me. It kind of was…

  His response was instantaneous this time. Do you need me? Tell me where you are.

  I’m okay. I’m at school. It was just scary for a minute.

  Kate…

  I sniffled back a fresh surge of tears. Really, I’m okay. I just wanted to tell someone.

  If you need to talk, call me.

  My chest flooded with something warm and sweet. I’m in class. Maybe later tonight.

  I’m here if you need me. It doesn’t matter what time.

  Thank you.

  I took a deep breath and it was steadier, evened out. My hands settled down. My legs stopped shaking. My head cleared and I felt like myself again.

  See? I just needed to tell someone.

  It didn’t matter that the first person I went to was Nick.

  It didn’t matter that with only a few reassuring texts, he’d soothed me completely.

  He had been there for me.

  He would be there for me if I needed him later.

  I knew that without a doubt.

  Which was exactly why I didn’t call him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  25. I just want to be happy.

  The start of Christmas break was just as glorious as I’d hoped it would be. I was positive I had gained ten pounds on cookie dough alone, but I was warm, I was hopped up on Netflix and hot chocolate and I’d been able to sleep in for three days.

  It didn’t get much better than that.

  Okay, honestly, my life wasn’t exactly the picture of happiness and contentment… but I was on my way.

  The doorbell rang and I set my Kindle down, pushed off
my couch and tugged on the hem of my shirt. I begrudgingly put on real clothes for the first time since break started and I was having issues with not ripping them off.

  I opened the door and was swarmed by munchkins. They ran circles around me, grabbing at clothes and body parts and whatever else they could reach. Annie jumped into the mix, torn between protecting me from the savages and trying to force their attention on her.

  I knew I should have stayed in yoga pants and Nick’s old tees.

  “Look at you guys! You got so big! How did that happen?”

  The middle munchkin stopped skipping to look up at me and say, “Veg-a-tubs.”

  I raised a curious eyebrow at my old college roommate, Fiona, and repeated, “Veg-a-tubs?”

  She grinned at me, with her classic Fiona grin and said, “Veg-a-tub-les.”

  I stepped to the side so Fi could usher her gaggle inside with her full hands. She put the baby’s car seat on the rug and closed the door behind her. After she’d systematically stripped each child out of their hat, gloves, coat and boots, she turned her attention to her newest one. I was anxious to see the little guy, but right now, he was buried beneath a zipper thing and a mountain of blankets.

  “Can he breathe in there?”

  She shot me a glare over her shoulder. “Yes. But these freaking winters. I swear we can hardly leave the house because I’m afraid one of my children is going to turn into a popsicle.”

  “I bet it’s Gigi. She looks the most popsicle like.” Gigi wrinkled her nose at me until her mom turned her attention back to the baby, then she stuck her tongue out. “Clever little girl.” I leaned over and tweaked her nose. Standing back up, I announced to Gigi, the three-year-old and Jack, the six-year-old, “There’s Legos on the table and coloring books for those who are interested.” When neither of them moved immediately, I had to stoop to more desperate measures, “And snacks.” They raced for the kitchen.

  Fiona stood up with a gurgling baby in her arms and I felt myself start to glow. “Gimme gimme gimme.”

  She handed over baby Jonah and I cuddled him against my chest. Babies had the best smell. Annie licked my jean-clad leg, distraught that I had something else to snuggle with.