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“Just that they’re witches and that they’ve come for me.
 
Or the amulets.
 
I have a feeling they’ll take what they can get, which likely means killing me to get what they want.”
 
I saw the concern on her face and wished I could hold her.
 
Did she know how much I was attracted to her?
 
Did she know how deeply I was beginning to feel for her?
 
If she did, she didn’t show it.
 
But Jennifer was a cool one, so who knew?

“I don’t want you to worry about me.
 
I’ll be fine.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” Alex said.
 
“I’m not convinced.”

“Same here.”

Homeroom was empty.
 
The bell rang and I started with them for the door.
 
“Can’t be late for Mrs. Branson,” I said.
 
“You know how she gets.”

“Promise us you won’t do anything stupid in there.”

I looked at Alex.
 
“Define stupid.”

“Like slamming a door and shooting her across the room.”

I shook my head at him.
 
“Give me some credit,” I said.
 
“At this point, I’d be a hell of a lot more creative than that.”

chapter forty-one

When we walked into Branson’s class, she already was standing in front of the group, book in hand but no words coming from her mouth.
 
We’d just made it.
 

“So glad you three could join us,” she said.

“So glad you’d have us,” I replied.
 
She was wearing a ridiculously tight-fitting pink suit and her blonde hair was blown out to give the illusion that she wasn’t quite as fat as she was.
 
But the illusion was an epic fail.
 
She looked like an over-sized bottle of Pepto Bismol with a wig stuck on top of it.

As we took out seats, she said directly to me:
 
“I’m assuming you’ve read today’s assignment, Seth?”

“Are you serious?
 
Do you really think I’d miss reading ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ knowing that you of all people were the one who was going to teach it to us?
 
There are pleasures in life you just don’t turn your back on, Mrs. Branson.
 
So, yes, I’ve read the book.”

And so the interrogation began.
 

“Who are the main characters?”

“Petruchio and Katherina.
 
She’s the shrew.”

“What does Petruchio want from her?”

“Well, let’s see.
 
This is just a stab in the dark, but I’d say he wants to tame her, Mrs. Branson.
 
I’d say he wants to marry her.”

She wrinkled her nose at me.
 
“Who is Bianca?”

“The shrew’s sis.”

“Where is the story set?”

“Padua.”

“Who is Grumio?”

“Petruchio’s servant.”
 
I held out my hands.
 
“Is there anything more, Mrs. Branson?
 
Any other way that I can prove to you that I’ve read the book and done my homework like a good boy?
 
Or are you going to continue to single me out and hammer away at me because we all know that you can’t stand me?”

“I—
what
?”

“It’s pretty obvious that you can’t and it’s been obvious for years.
 
I’m just trailer trash to you—or at least I was when there still was a trailer around.
 
You think no one can see that you treat me differently?
 
That you have these giant chips on your massive shoulder pads with my name on them?”
 
I looked at one of the buttons straining against the fabric of her suit and made it pop off, soar across the room and strike the wall just behind my head.
 
I ducked and looked up at her.
 
“What the hell?” I said.

Somebody said, “Mrs. Branson’s suit just exploded.”

And then so did the room—in laughter.

I bent down, picked up the button and brought it over to her.
 
“When my mother used to gain weight and outgrow her clothes, I remember she’d use fishing line to sew on buttons whenever they popped off.
 
It was fool proof, but only to a point.
 
She’d usually diet when she got too fat and then, when she lost the weight, everything would fit like it was supposed to.”
 
I looked down at her hands covering the hole in her suit.
 
You could just barely see her doughy tummy beneath her fingers.
 
“Just a tip.”

I was standing beside Jennifer, who was seated in the front of the class, just as she always was, and was aware of her turning her iPhone around and pointing it at Branson.
 
She started to record what was transpiring between us, but this time Branson saw it.
 
She looked coldly at Jennifer, then turned that look on me.
 
“You can sit back down, Seth.
 
Thank you for the advice.”

“You’re very welcome.
 
Can we talk about shrews some more?
 
I’ve met my share over the years and can offer some insight.
 
You might be surprised at the breadth of my knowledge.”

“I think you and I have talked enough about shrews.
 
Back to your seat.”

When I turned to walk back to my desk, what I saw was a surprise.
 
With the exception of Mike Hastings, who had his book cracked open and his face buried in it, every other face in the room was smiling back at me.
 

I looked at Alex and saw a hint of a smile on his lips.
 
My teacher had tried to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone, but she failed—once again.
 
But why?
 
Just because I was brought up poor and had been a target for much of my life?
 
Was it just in vogue to hate me, even for a teacher who should be here to protect me?
 
Just thinking about it pissed me off.

And so, when I sat back down, I looked over at Branson as she was sitting at her desk in an effort to conceal her fleshy belly.
 
And when she did, what became clear is that this wasn’t going to be her day—not if I could help it.
 

As she tucked in her chair, there was an audible sound of the bottom of her skirt ripping open, which caused the class to gasp and to which I had to offer some guidance in the wake of her red-faced embarrassment.
 
“Fishing line,” I said.
 
“I’m telling you, when my mother was alive and struggling with being grossly obese, as you are now, she swore by it.”

I looked over at Hastings.
 
“Do you remember that, Mike?”

He ignored me.

“Our mothers were friends back then, as unlikely as that seems to anyone who knows how you’ve shit on me over the years.
 
But they were.
 
They went to school together.
 
They lived across the street from each other when they were kids.
 
For a time, they were even close as adults until my parents hit hard times, my father turned to booze and your parents tuned them out.
 
Do you remember that trick with the fishing line?”

He continued to look into his book.
 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.
 
Our mothers were never friends.”

“Oh, come on.
 
Seriously?
 
They were best friends when they were young and for years after that.”

“My mother wouldn’t have been caught dead with your mother.”

“That’s an interesting choice of words, Mike.”

Finally, he looked at me.
 
“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it?”

“Just as it sounded.
 
They weren’t friends.
 
They had nothing in common.”

“That’s not true.”

“How so?”

I leveled him with a look.
 
“They have you in common, Mike.
 
And with that comes life and death.
 
Should I elaborate for the class?”

“Shut the fuck up, man.”

And that was it for Branson.
 
Without standing, she pointed a finger at Hastings.
 
“Principal’s office.”
 
She scribbled a note and handed it to him when he gathered his books and went over to him.
 
Too eagerly.
 
“I don’t tolerate that kind of language in my classroom.”

“He said ‘shit’ a minute ago.”

“I didn’t hear it.”

“Well, he said it.”
 
He turned and looked at the rest of the class.
 
All the people he’d wooed for years were looking at him.
 
“Didn’t he?”

But no one said a word.

“You’ll have detention tomorrow,” Branson said.
 
“One hour.
 
Plan on it.”

“Fine.”

As he left the room, she turned her pudgy face at me.
 
“You’re skating on thin ice, Seth.”

“Am I?”
 
I took a breath to calm down.
 
“You know what, Mrs. Branson?
 
Maybe if you actually cared about people and showed up at my parents’ funeral, you’d understand what I’m going through and have more compassion instead of grilling me like you just did.
 
You wanted me to fail in front of everyone.
 
You wanted to humiliate me.
 
But why? I guess you think the feelings I’m dealing with just fly away.”
 
I paused.
 
“Like one of your buttons.”

Her lips moved, but nothing came out.
 
The entire classroom went quiet.
 
I watched her and sensed her mind working.
 
What was she thinking?
 
What did she want to say?
 
There was one way to find out and it had nothing to do with me putting words in her mouth.
 
I just wanted to know what she was thinking.
 
I wanted the class to know.
 
So I asked the amulets to have her tell us.
 
And she did.

“Here’s the deal, you little son of a whore.
 
I’m glad your parents burned up in that fire.
 
That’s right.
 
You heard me.
 
I’m glad they died.
 
You’re not good people.
 
None of you Moores ever were.
 
You’re not good Christians.
 
You don’t fear God.
 
You’re fucking Satanists!
 
Your family was an embarrassment to this town.
 
YOU’VE been an embarrassment to this town.
 
I’m glad your parents are dead.
 
You should be dead right along with them.
 
I think we all agree on that, don’t we, class?”

But the class was shocked by what they heard.
 
I snapped Branson out of her reverie and made certain she knew what she just said.
 

“Seth,” she said.

You literally could see her face go pale.
 
I watched Jennifer hold her iPhone high above her head and turn on the video she captured.
 
The sound rang through the room, dropping the temperature a dozen degrees when Branson spoke.

“You don’t fear God.
 
You’re fucking Satanists!
 
Your family was an embarrassment to this town.
 
YOU’VE been an embarrassment to this town.
 
I’m glad your parents are dead.
 
You should be dead right along with them.”

“I didn’t mean it,” she said.
 
“You know I didn’t mean it.”

“You called me a son of a whore.”

“I don’t—”

“You said you’re glad my parents are dead.”

“It wasn’t—”

“You said you wished I died with them.”

“This isn’t happening!”

And with that, I got up from my seat, asked Jennifer to join me with her iPhone and told Branson that we were off to see the principal ourselves.
 

An hour later, that was it for her.
 
Principal Roberts put her on immediate suspension until the situation could be reviewed by the school board.
 
I told Roberts that if Branson wasn’t fired, she could expect a law suit from me and that the video Jennifer shot would make its world-wide debut on YouTube, with the school’s name prominently featured beneath it, not to mention her own name as the school’s principal, a woman who apparently allowed this sort of behavior to unfold in the classroom.