Maybe This Time (The Educators Book 3) (3 page)

Delaney smiled sympathetically. “She needs help, Mr. Grayson.” The formality sounded absurd coming out of a mouth that he’d devoured a little over twenty-four hours ago.

“I know. Her behavior has been getting progressively worse for a long time. And I’m afraid I’ve gotten the distinct displeasure of being her disciplinarian.”

“What about her mother?” Kane asked.

From the expression in Delaney’s eyes, Gage could tell she already knew this, though he hadn’t told her much in Atlanta about his ex-wife. “She’s bipolar. And not consistent which causes problems between me and Steph. Andrea provides no oversight of her behavior and I end up doing all the dirty work when she comes to me.”

Kane’s phone buzzed and a voice came over its intercom. “Dylan, the mayor’s here for breakfast.”

“I have to go. We’ll talk more after Stephanie’s detention. Delaney, come see me after you meet with her today.”

Gage waited until Delaney preceded him through the door to the hallway. The buses had arrived so the halls were teeming with students jostling each other, calling out names, hurrying to class. The two of them started to walk and when they reached an alcove, she pulled him over and stopped.

“This is interesting.”

“It is. How could I not have found out you were the teacher that walked on water?”

“I feel the same—you’re the dad who doesn’t understand her.”

“You mean who she hates.”

“She doesn’t hate you. Down deep, I think she wants a relationship with you. I do know about the discipline stuff. She sees you as a punisher in her life.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Sometimes, I wake up at night and wonder how things got this way.”

“They can change.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do. And maybe I can help.”

“You already have. She hasn’t had an incident in school like this in weeks.”

“I was out yesterday—which, um, of course you know. I was supposed to have a chat with her after school.”

“I don’t know what to do about my daughter anymore.”

Reaching out, Delaney squeezed his arm. “We have to work at getting her to open up to you.” She sighed. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Gage cursed himself for thinking of this at a time when his daughter needed him, but he remembered how Delaney’s lips had been everywhere on his body. “I know.”

They couldn’t see each other again romantically.

And he was a lot more disappointed than he should be at the notion.

o0o

This close to him, Delaney’s skin sizzled. It was the scent that did it—that wonderful smell of man and musk that she’d immersed herself in for one whole night…

She’d licked his chest and he’d startled.
Oh, shit. My body’s on fire.

Hmm. Let’s see if I can kick up the temperature.

He’d grabbed her arms hard enough to bruise her but he couldn’t control himself and she didn’t want him to…

Now, Delaney’s voice was hoarse when she said, “I know this is selfish, but I’m really disappointed. That we can’t, you know…”

“Yes, I am, too. I was looking forward to some more of
you know.
But we have to think about Steph. Where do we start?”

Glancing around the crowded hall, she shook her head. “This isn’t the time or place. We’ll have to meet again to talk about her.”

“I’m due in court at ten, and you probably have classes soon. How about before I pick Steph up today?”

“I have a meeting right when the kids leave school. How about after that? Steph could wait in the library for you.”

“Nope. I have to be back in court again at four today. You said you live in the city?”

“Yeah, on Park Ave.”

“My office is on State Street. I could meet you somewhere. Or I could stop at your place. That would be easier because I don’t know exactly what time I’ll be done.”

They both knew he could call her, they could talk on the phone. But what the hell, nothing could keep happening between them and she wanted to see him one more time alone. “Fine.”

He took a pen and slim pad out of the inside pocket of his suit coat. “Here, write down your address.”

With faked calm, she took the pen from him and their fingers touched. Hers tingled, his eyes turned almost completely green. “Damn it,” he said while she wrote.

She peered up at him. “Yeah, damn it to hell.”

o0o

Stephanie walked into the detention room, which was better than the one from last year. Mr. Kane said even degenerates needed windows. And he’d put up cool posters, the kind Ms. Dawson had on her walls.

“Hey, Stephy girl,” someone called out. She glanced over to see Schmooze was already here. “Heard you told Tom Tom to do what’s anatomically impossible.”

Stephanie laughed. Schmooze, aka Sara Simpson, was a senior and had kind of taken Steph under her wing this year. They hung out together in school and smoked pot together in Schmooze’s car. She’d even given Stephanie a ride this morning because her dad got stranded in Atlanta.

When the bell for first class rang, Mrs. Long, the supervisor of detention, said, “All right people, time to settle down.”

Ironically, the kids liked Mrs. Long. She had a shit job sitting here all day with the dregs of school and she was pretty good natured about it. Steph hated when others gave her grief.

The five students inside quieted. Steph got out her English book, a big anthology, and opened to the poetry that had been assigned for the week. She had her essay done for today but she’d work on what was due Friday. Shit, she didn’t have her journal to write in. She opened a spare spiral notebook.

Mrs. Long began her checks to see if the inmates had enough to do and when she got to Steph, she shook her head. “Haven’t seen you in here in a while, Stephanie. I thought Ms. Dawson was keeping you straight.”

“Yeah, I had a relapse, I guess.”

Steph began to read the poetry on family that Ms. Dawson had assigned to go along with
The Perfect Family
.

As if one existed. She liked the book, though. It was about a family whose kid comes out gay and what happened in their family and school. Stephanie could relate to the dickwad dad. The assignment was to pick a poem they could relate to the book, then write their own poem mimicking it. She stopped when she got to one that was relevant to her in an opposite kind of way.

My Dad

My dad is a giant who battles demons for me.

My dad is a river who guides me through tough times.

My dad is the sky, watching over me every day.

My dad is the forest where I can go to find peace.

My mom is the grass, where I lay my head.

My mom is a cool breeze, calming me when I need it.

My mom is milk and honey, nourishing me always.

My mom is dessert, like chocolate cake, a treat to have.

Huh. This assignment was a snap. She had no problem imitating the poem. She wrote in a spiral notebook:

My dad is a giant who steps on the little people.

My dad is a river who drowns me in his negligence.

My dad is the sky, dark, gloomy and threatening.

My dad is the forest, where I get lost.

My mom is a crazy person and maybe so am I !!!!!!!

Stephanie stopped writing because her eyes blurred and her throat burned. There wasn’t much more to say anyway.

Chapter 3

On the way to the principal’s office after school, Delaney thought about her meeting with Stephanie. After the shocking encounter with Gage
Grayson
in Dylan’s office, she’d met with Stephanie in her room second period.

The girl had been pouty…

“I thought you’d understand.”

“I do. You hate Mr. Speranza. He doesn’t seem to like you either. But you’d decided to try to get along with him.”

She’d pitched forward from her slouch. “He took my journal. Who knows what he’s doing with it?”

From inside her drawer, Delaney had retrieved the book. “Here, now he doesn’t have it
.
”

A smile bloomed on Stephanie’s face. “I knew you’d get it back, Ms. Dawson. You’re the only adult in the world I can trust.”

“For your information, young lady, your dad went to the science wing before he left this morning and got the journal back from Mr. Speranza. He left it for me in the office.”

Stephanie’s face closed down in an instant. Delaney realized she wasn’t going to give Gage any break…

She came back to the present when she reached Dylan’s office for the second time today; it was empty. She had a meeting with Brie in twenty minutes, but Dylan had asked her to come down now. She was looking at a photo of his family, Annie, Trevor and Danny, when he breezed inside smiling.

“You seem happy.”

“Yeah, the senior Volunteer Challenge to the faculty is taking off. I just met with the committee.”  He smiled. “You’re on the list of teachers who took the service project challenge.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to do my part.”

“Sit down. I know you have a meeting, so I’ll get right to the point. Thanks for getting Steph to apologize to Speranza. I hear you took her down to his office after second period.”

“It about killed her, but she did an okay job.”

“You’re a great teacher, Delaney, and the kids relate to you so well. Especially the girls.”

“Thanks.”

“Which is why I hope you’ll take what I’m about to say in the right vein.”

She tensed. She always did when she expected criticism.

“You let the kids use any kind of language they want in their journals?”

“No, not any kind. I don’t let them use insulting terms for women, or men for that matter, but there’s a big difference in the connotation of stud and the c-word. But yes, fuck is allowed, as are curses.”

“Why is that?”

“Do you swear, Dylan?”

He chuckled. “I’ve been known to. When Annie and I were…” He stopped because he was about to reveal something personal. “But only when I’m alone or with people I trust implicitly and never in front of the boys.”

“The kids can’t swear in my classroom, and they view their journals as talking to someone they trust.”

“You?”

“Uh-huh. I think everybody uses bad words to vent.”

“I guess I understand that. Have there been parental complaints?”

“I don’t think parents read their journals. God, I hope not.”

“Why?”

“Because they share their unprocessed thoughts. They don’t think before they write the personal entries. Writing is a way to discover how you feel about an issue.”

“I agree with that from my English teaching days.” He watched her. “Okay, I’m satisfied. Promise me you’ll deal with anyone who crosses the line in their writing or if you get complaints from any parents.”

“I will.”

Delaney left the meeting happy. Dylan had really listened to her and that meant a lot. She headed to Brie Gorman’s room thinking about all that had happened in the last eight hours.

Lost in thought, she reached Brie’s room, but inside she found Coach Nick Corelli instead. Shaking her head, she quipped, “It’s still bizarre finding you in here. I can’t believe you and Brie are hitched.”

The whirlwind relationship between the head football coach and the most sophisticated teacher in the school had buzzed through the Crystal Corners grapevine for weeks, especially after they’d eloped over a four day vacation. Only Annie Kane, Delaney’s friend, and the teacher Delaney had replaced at the high school, knew they were getting married. She and her husband Dylan went with them.

“Believe it, kiddo.” He dropped his feet to the floor. “I’m waiting for my bride. How you doin’?”

Delaney perched on one of the student desks. “I’m whipped.”

“I hear you got stranded in Atlanta. Down my way, girl.”

“I did.” Thinking of Gage, she said, “It wasn’t too bad.”

His gaze strayed over her shoulder and from the light on his face—his
Grey’s Anatomy McDreamy
face--she knew Brie must have come to the door. Turning, she saw her friend in the entrance.

Today, Brie Gorman Corelli didn’t look good. She was dressed in her usual style--a wool skirt that flirted with her calves, a white button down sweater and pearls peeking out from beneath it. But her complexion was completely white and even her hair was mussed. Usually Delaney felt like a country cousin next to Brie, but not today. “Hey, you okay? If you’re sick, you can go home with Coach. We can meet another time.”

“No, I’m fine now.” The married couple exchanged glances. Strong, meaningful glances.

“What’s going on?”

Nick cocked his head. Brie shook hers. Meaning Brie was keeping a secret

“Oh, hell,” Nick mumbled as he got up; he squeezed Delaney’s arm when he walked by. “Take care, kiddo.” To Brie he mumbled, “I got you some fizzy water so drink it,” then brazenly kissed his wife on the mouth and left.

“Secrets?”

Brie rolled her eyes. “Nothing I’m ready to make public.” Crossing to her desk, she picked up the bottle and took tiny sips. “Can we go back to the partitioned off area? I’d like to sit in a comfortable chair.”

“Sure, but seriously Brie, we can do this another day.”

“No, now will work.”

Once they were seated in the back of the room, Brie picked up a pamphlet from the table and began to fan her face. “Is it hot in here?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Oh. Well, let’s talk about our classes for next marking period.”

Brie and Delaney coordinated their eleventh grade classes to connect their curriculum as much as possible. “What’s next in social studies?”

“The Puritan Era.”

“Then we’ll read
The Scarlet Letter
.”