Fat School Confidential (27 page)

BOOK: Fat School Confidential
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We sat and ate our meal quietly. After dinner, after we played in the living room and read picture books, after Bobby nursed himself to sleep, Ellie and I sat down in front of the TV. The picture of domestic bliss was just that—a picture. Without more than a perfunctory goodnight kiss, we went to sleep.

   
The calm before the storm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

Discovered

 

   
Thursday, February Fifteenth.

   
Ellie needed the car, and dropped me off at school—much later than my normal time. Done with their walk, the students were either getting ready for class or finishing breakfast in the caf. Having eaten already, I headed for my office. I logged into my computer, updated the attendance roster for the previous day, and made quick work on the day’s lesson plans. It wasn’t going to be long before the first class.

   
Funny how the unexpected and the unfortunate seem to show up at the same time.

   
Bolting into my room without greeting me, Wendy was in a panic. She wasn’t hyperventilating or showing any other obvious signs of worry, but I could tell.

   
Her eyes said it all.

    “
What’s going on?” I asked.

    “
They’re searching my room right now!” she blurted. Her eyes kept darting back and forth—from me to the corridor, and back again—as if she was waiting for someone to arrive. I thought of the search that was taking place, and of the contraband I gave her.

    “
Did you hide the cigarettes?”

    “
They found them.”

   
I tried to seem nonplussed about it. No use in exacerbating the situation by sending Wendy off the deep end.

    “
They drug tested me too.”

    “
So what,” I replied, keeping calm, cool and collected.

    “
So what? They’re going to find out that I got high during Christmas break. They’re gonna put me on solo. Then they’re gonna kick me out.”

    “
They’re not going to kick you out. Christmas was a month and a half ago. Besides, look what happened to Suzie. Didn’t she screw another student who was for all intents and purposes an adult?”

   
I was referring to Suzie Calder’s night sneaking off with an older student. He got a hand slap. She got solo. But no matter how hard I tried to reason away the situation, Wendy was in full crisis-mode.

    “
You did hide the phone, right?” I asked her.

   
Wendy nodded her head. “Under the bed.”

    “
Fuck,” I whispered to myself. “That’s the worst place to hide it! Did you at least erase the messages?”

   
Wendy’s nervous shrug told me what I didn’t want to hear. I slumped in my chair. I didn’t think there were many voicemail messages—perhaps one, maybe two. I altered my voice, just in case.

   
Text messages were another story.

Looking just past Wendy, I said, “They’re going to fire me.”

    “
No!” Wendy exclaimed in a near shout. Placing my hand on her shoulder, I tried to calm her with something. Anything.

    “
You might get solo, but you’ll be able to stay.”

   
Wendy gave me the longest look. “I don’t want to stay here if they fire you.”

   
What did she want from me? Was she actually thinking of leaving A.O.S. with me—in full view of everyone?

   
In an instant, my office seemed to shrink three times its size. Walls closed in on me. I found it hard to breathe. I had to think  of something and something fast. I walked over to my jacket, draped over a chair. I unzipped a pocket and pulled out my matching pre-paid cell phone. Glancing at it, I replied, “You’re sure about this.”

   
She nodded slowly.

    “
You know my number, right?”

   
She nodded again.

   
I handed her the phone, adding, “Don’t let them take this, or you’ll never get out.”

   
Slipping it under her sweatshirt, she headed for the doorway.

    “
I want to go to L.A.” was all she said, before heading down the hall towards my class.

   
Was she serious? L.A.? Now?

   
That would mean only one thing: That I’d have to leave Ellie and Bobby behind—for God-knows how long. That wasn’t the plan we had envisioned—or I had envisioned, at least. We were supposed to see through the spring semester until graduation. Then I’d take her. And then I’d come back.

   
Damned if I took her, damned if I didn’t. Either way, I was fucked. It was only a matter of time before staff would put the pieces of the puzzle together and implicate me in the process—with the time being a matter of minutes or hours, rather than weeks, months or the preferable—never.

   
What did I expect?

   
I showed up at my first class, noticing Wendy in the front row with her head down on the desk. I jotted a warm-up on the board, then joked to everyone that “No matter what, we’re gonna finish Death of a Salesman.”

   
Wendy was the only one laughing. Either the rest of class weren’t listening, or they didn’t get the joke. I wasn’t a salesman long past his prime, but the irony was not lost on me.

   
The class was a blur—at least until Tom Eccleston stopped by to take Wendy away. Right then and there, I knew that no matter how the day would play out, this was going to be my last day as a teacher. I wasn’t going to finish Death of a Salesman—or any other play or reading or project. I wasn’t going to grade papers or update my roster or the myriad things a teacher does on a daily basis.

   
I wasn’t sure I cared anymore. All I could think of was what was in front of me. That was, if I could see past the blur.

   
At some point during her solo— which was nothing more than an interrogation, Wendy was going to break. She was going to spill her guts and implicate me. She was going to say that the cryptic Moby in her journals and Mr. Rourke were one and the same. That I bought the cell phones to talk/text her after hours, that I bought her cigarettes, that I talked staff into spending as much time alone with her so we can plan our future together.

   
Who the fuck could really blame her? She was eighteen. So what if she’d been around the block a few times more at eighteen than I did at forty-two? Sexual experience and street smarts were two different animals. I knew full well I wouldn’t bend under questioning.  But then, who was the idiot who thought buying cigarettes and phones were smart moves anyway?

   
Not twenty minutes into my second class, Bella—who should have been in a B.C. session or in another class—popped her head in my classroom. I motioned her to wait

outside, while I checked to make sure the students were all working on their class assignments. I stepped out.

    “
Hey, Mr. Rourke. You hear about Wendy?”

    “
She’s on solo. Yes, I know.”

    “
What do you think will happen?”

    “
Is there a class you need to be at?” I asked, with a tone that suggested she’d better comply. Getting the hint, she zipped down the hall, disappearing round a corner.

   
I let my last class before lunch out a little early for the students to get a jump on the line. I wasn’t being gracious or generous with my time. I simply didn’t want them to see any anxiety register on my face. Still, for a guy in the throes of career suicide, I must have been giving the performance of a lifetime.

   
Visiting Tim Rodriguez in his office, I closed the door behind me. Smiling broadly, Rodriguez was his usual, gossip-hungry self. Anytime I’d come for a visit, or on the rarer occasion when he’d visit my domain, we’d talk smack of our fellow co-workers—at least the ones whom earned our displeasure. I never trusted Rodriguez, mostly because of his near-insatiable appetite for “news” from Carmen—the reigning queen of dirt at A.O.S. But for whatever reason, be it my own masochism or the very real need to get something off my chest, I was compelled to give him dirt of another sort—my own.

    “
You going to lunch?” I asked. He shook his head. “In a few minutes. What’s going on?”

    “
Let’s just say that something is gonna go down on this campus in a major way,” I replied, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.

    “
Oh really!” he said, leaning back in his chair—his hands folding behind his head. “How major?”

    “
It’s gonna be a media event.”

   
I didn’t know what else to say. I was buying time, attempting to stave off the inevitable. Of course, something was going to happen, but a “media event?” If anything, Bill would keep the whole affair under wraps. No one outside campus would ever know.

   
Rodriguez was intrigued, nonetheless. “Are you involved?”

   
I knew if I answered “yes,” I would implicate me and Rodriguez would go into gossip girl mode.

    “
I can’t reveal my sources.” Giving my best poker face, I left Tim to ponder.

   
I waited out lunch in my office, until just before it ended. I entered the caf just when everyone was leaving, wolfed down my meal, and headed back to class.

   
Anxiety continued to build inside of me. I grew despondent. The feelings were churning inside of me, overwhelming me.

   
This was indeed going to be my last day as a teacher. No matter what was to happen tomorrow—today, at some point, I was going to be found out and fired. I thought of my students. I was letting them down, especially the ones I grew close to. Charlie Ross, and Elijah Coleman in particular, were young men with whom I felt a bond. I could only imagine what they were to think of me once they found out.

   
But it seemed to fit a pattern with me. I let my Special Ed students down when I left my teaching position with L.A. Unified.

   
But this was different.

   
I kept glancing at the clock in my classroom, as if I could manipulate the second hand. Nothing could take me back now. I recalled a childhood memory waiting in the doctor’s office for a checkup. I hated shots of any kind. Sometimes I’d put up a fight. But the waiting was the worst.

   
Staring at the clock on the wall.

   
It was just past three in the afternoon. With class ending, I hunkered down in my office until Ellie and Bobby arrived. Like clockwork, they pulled up at three-thirty to pick me up. Stopping the Element, Ellie got out to trade seats with me. Giving me a hug, she sensed my tension. I took the driver’s seat.

    “
What’s wrong?” she asked.

    “
You don’t want to know.”

   
Ellie tried to look calm, given that Bobby was in his car seat in the back. Nearing our apartment, and looking dead ahead, I blurted, “I have to go back.”

    “
Why?”

    “
I really have to take care of something.”

    “
Can it wait till after dinner? Bobby needs you right now—”

   
Cutting her off, I replied with, “I’m sorry, but this can’t wait.”

   
She looked into my eyes—clearly something was wrong. Her look was one of alarm. Under my breath, I couldn’t help but mutter, “Something is going to happen, no matter what I do.”

   
I helped Bobby out of his seat, giving him a kiss. After resting my cheek against his, I handed him to Ellie.

   
When I pulled away from the apartment, I let out a heavy sigh.

   
What have I done?

   
Was I going to lose my family?

   
Would I ever see Bobby again?

   
Something was going to happen. I had an idea what it was, but the way it would play out would be far different than what I could ever imagine.

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