Page 76

Forget that Richard and I never even met until after I started working there and didn't start seeing each other until a month or so after that.

Once things ended, I met judgmental stares at nearly every door. But not from Connie. She brought me into her classroom and closed the door and let me have a good old-fashioned cry on her shoulder, and damn if that hadn't been exactly what I'd needed in that moment. I've been in her debt ever since.

And yet here I am, reaching out again for a lifeline.

"Um," I start.

But she takes over. "How did you hear so fast?"

I lift my head from my hand, scrunching up my brow. "Hear what?"

"Oh, I just assumed. After last night's faculty meeting…"

"Connie, what's going on?"

"It's Richard."

Shit. Shit shit shit. I brace myself, rising to my feet. I picture car accidents or early strokes or hell, some weird karmic round of layoffs.

But I'm wrong. I'm so fucking wrong.

"Haley," Connie says, "Richard is trying to steal your job."

34

Six hours later, I'm on a plane.

As I sit there, staring out a window at miles of empty plains passing away below me, I'm numb.

This morning's panic is starting to fade, leaving me exhausted and gray. I just felt so penned in. When Connie told me that my only possible route of escape was slamming shut in front of me, the panic crested over. I stopped by the guys' house just long enough to throw some clothes in a bag, thankful all the while that I didn't run into anyone.

If they had asked me to stay, I don't know what I would have done.

If they had let me go, I would have been even more lost.

It's better this way. I took my exit before they could get tired of me, while I still had some resources to make my own way out.

So why does my heart ache at the thought of them finding the note? I scribbled it on a random scrap of paper. I stuck to the facts, thanking them for everything and telling them there was an emergency and I had to get back before I lost my job. Everything I wrote was the truth, and every word was the very worst kind of lie.

Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the thick glass. I miss them already, is the thing. Adam would have teased me about calling to make my flights instead doing it online, then gently taken my phone from my hand. Sergio would have given me a look that told me in an instant that I had my head up my freaking ass. Jax might have told me what an idiot I was being to my face.

And Deandre…he would have held me. He would have asked me why I didn't trust that my daddy would take care of his little girl.

Cayden would have kissed me softly and told me not to go.

Not that I gave them the chance.

What choice did I have, though? Even if all their promises were true, a girl can't shack up withfivemen. It's wrong. It's not done. People would talk. I could hardly stand the judging stares when I was sleeping with the vice principal at my school. How would people look at me if they knew I merrily spread my legs for all these guys? Would they call me a slut? Or a whore?

Maybe I was both. It felt right whenever I was in their arms, but I still can't banish the terrified voice in the back of my head that insists over and over that it's so, so wrong.

Through the rest of the flight, I flutter back and forth. I'm numb and sad and angry at myself, at society. Irrationally, I'm even angry at them, but it's not their fault they put me in an impossible situation.

By the time we land, I'm a wreck. I walk off the plane with my vision blurry and my heart sore.

It doesn't matter how I feel, though. Not anymore. I made my choice, and it was to try to salvage what was left of my old life. There's no going back now.

The ride back to my place costs a small fortune. I teach in a small town an hour away from the closest airport. I'm lucky anyone was even willing to take the fare at all.