“Hi, Everett,” she said. “Oh, it's going alright so far. Um, I do have a bit of an issue though with some of my eleventh graders.”
“Oh, and what's the problem?”
“Two of the boys sitting in front keep making, well, comments that are quite inappropriate.”
I nodded. It was easy to see how two teenage boys could get, in the words of Van Halen, “hot for teacher” considering Irene's youthfulness and frankly stunning good looks.
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “Teenage boys can be like that. Have you had a word with them?”
“I called them out, but they didn't seem to take me seriously.”
She batted her mascara-heavy eyelashes at me.
“Do you think it's because my skirt is too short? Or maybe that my blouse is cut a little too low? They can see my, you know, my cleavage.”
It hit me then – she was trying to flirt with me, drawing my attention to her admittedly very attractive physical features. I was flattered, of course, but my thoughts in that department already seemed to be only on Vivienne. And, of course, I was a strict proponent of the old rule of not getting romantically involved with anyone you worked with. I wondered what the best way to deal with this situation was. Obviously, I wanted to keep things light between us, and maintain a good, friendly relationship as I would with any other member of staff. But also, I needed her to know that it wasn't okay to flirt with me. This was a tough one.
“Well, Irene, I think that you'll have to be the judge of that yourself. You know the school code here allows you to make your own choices regarding how you dress, but we do encourage a more, um, conservative manner of dress. I'm not saying you have to cover up, but dressing a little more conservatively might help with regard to teenage boys and raging hormones. Anyway, if they give you any more trouble, send 'em straight to my office, and I'll make sure they stop their comments right away.”
She smiled flirtatiously at me.
“Thanks. It's good to know that I have a principal looking out for me the way you do. I really, really appreciate it, and I'd love to return the favor somehow.”
I chuckled dryly, not taking the bait.
“Oh, as long as you do your job well, I'll be happy, and that'll be all the thanks I need.”
Just then the bell signaling the end of lunch rang.
“Alright people!” I said loudly, “Keep up the good work everyone. The weekend is almost here!”
It was during the last period of the day that the intercom on my desk buzzed. I saw that it was Ben, dialing from his office.
“Ben, what's up?” I asked as I answered the call.
“Ev, we've got a situation. Two kids just got busted snorting Rocket in the boys' bathrooms.”
“Where are they now?”
“I've got 'em here in my office.”
“I'll be right there.”
I got up from my desk and hurried through to Ben's office. I was surprised to see two preppy-looking guys standing in front of Ben's desk, their heads hanging in shame.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” I said as I walked in.
I walked slowly around each boy, giving them cold, merciless stares. I took one by his chin, forcing him to look up at me, and saw that his pupils were dilated. He was definitely high.
“What are your names?” I demanded.
“I'm Charlie MacDonald,” mumbled the one whose face I was gripping.
“And I'm Dylan Korb,” muttered the other. Both of their voices were shaky and tinged with nerves and fear.
“And you two idiots were sniffing that Rocket garbage in the bathrooms, huh?”
Neither replied; they both just stared at the ground.