I would pick her up at seven, and we'd head to a nice Spanish restaurant that had good reviews. After that, we'd catch the late show at the movie theater around nine. I had to admit I was looking forward to it. Luckily, Maggie had recovered from her illness and was willing to look after Jane for the evening, so I didn't need to worry
about that.
I watched her as she walked up her driveway, and as she got onto her porch, she turned and waved to me. I waved back, smiling, and then she went inside and locked up. I headed back to my garage, where I finished setting up my circular saw, and after that figured I'd better get to bed as I had to be up early for my morning jog on the treadmill.
With a smile still plastered across my face, I turned off the garage light, locked it up, and headed inside.
FRIDAY
It was the second day of school, and already things were crazy. This was a much bigger school than the inner-city school I'd worked at previously, and while things were much better run around here and a lot more efficient, just the sheer number of students and staff made it quite a challenge to run.
Still, though, I kept things under control. I not only handled pressure well, I thrived on it. I always had; stressful situations often brought out the best in me and had me performing at levels that were beyond what I could normally achieve.
During lunch period, I joined the rest of the teachers and administrators in the staff break room. I'd been introduced to all of them the previous day, of course, but it would still take me a while to learn all of their names.
Instead of eating, I went around to each teacher individually and spoke to them, exchanging a few words and asking about their classes. It seemed everyone was settling in pretty smoothly, although, as was to be expected, there were a few stories of problem students, and, of course, the ever-present worry about the effects of the Rocket epidemic.
The last person I stopped to talk to before lunch was over was another brand-new member of staff, a young chemistry teacher by the name of Irene Greer. She was only 24, and fresh out of college. She'd done two years at a school in Northern California, and she had just moved out here a few weeks ago.
“Hi, Irene,” I said, remembering her name from the day before. “How are things coming along?”
She smiled at me. I had to admit that she was very pretty—a brunette with long, silky hair and a slim, toned figure, she had a killer smile, and with her full lips, she flashed me one of those.
“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.