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I couldn’t let it.
As I walked up the stairs, I made a promise to myself. I’d set my pride aside—I’d beg, I’d plead, I’d bargain—anything to keep this job I loved so much. And the second my job was secure, I’d find an apartment, any place that would take me so I could start living on my own and be the adult I should have been through all of this.
Inside the building, I marched past the main office as if it were any other day. Because really, it was. My relationship with Cohen didn’t have to interfere with my work. If anything, it made me a better guidance counselor. He and I had worked as a team to help solve Ollie’s issue. With a little more parental involvement, it could be the same with the other students.
Why did we have to sit in our ivory tower at Emerson Academy like we somehow weren’t on the same team with the parents and students?
I reached my door and jiggled the knob until it opened, saying hello to Ralphie as soon as I saw him. He cooed in response and tucked his beak under his wing a few times.
“I’m okay,” I said, not convincing either of us. So I tried again. “We’re going to be okay.” It was more of a wish than the truth.
A few knocks sounded on my open door behind me. Marjorie stood in the doorway, looking me over with a disappointed expression. “Headmaster Bradford would like you to come to his office.”
My heart stalled, and I felt dizzy for a moment. This was it. The moment of truth.
“I’ll be there in a second,” I said. I needed to gather myself, to make myself as confident as possible before setting foot in his intimidating office.
“Mhmm.” She turned and left my office, as if even she knew I was a dead woman walking.
Taking deep breaths, I knelt before Ralphie’s cage. “That man who came in here mattered to me, but this school, this job, these students matter to me more. I’m going to tell headmaster that. And everyone makes mistakes—it’s what you do after that matters.”
Ralphie tilted his head, and I took that to mean he agreed with me.
I wiggled my finger through a slat in his cage, and he gently nipped at it with his beak.
“I’ll be back,” I promised.
He cooed.
With another deep breath, I stood, held my chin high, and walked toward the headmaster’s office and whatever fate awaited me.
57
BIRDIE
Confession: Sometimes I want to punch my students in the face.
I’d expected the intimidating wooden furniture. Headmaster Bradford’s hands folded on the desk. Even Marjorie’s smug smile as she shut the door behind me.
What I hadn’t expected to see was Ryde Alexander slouched in a chair next to his mother. Pam Alexander sat in a bright red dress and killer black pumps with the smile of a cat who’d just killed a poor, innocent canary.
“Sit,” Headmaster Bradford said to me. His voice was formal, cold.
Trying not to show the wobble in my legs, I did as I was asked.
“Mrs. Alexander and her son came to me this morning with interesting news,” Headmaster Bradford said. “Do you know what that might have been?”
I kept my gaze even. Because if I didn’t, my eyes would have shot daggers at both of them. I didn’t like the game, the way they were treating me like I’d committed an unforgiveable crime. “I’m curious,” I finally said.
“Very well.” He let out a sigh and shifted forward, steepling his fingers atop his desk. “It has been brought to my attention that you are having intimate relations with a parent.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he already had out the blue leather handbook with Ad Meliora embossed in gold.
“Article III, section 12b,” he said. “‘Teachers are strictly forbidden from having any relationship with an Emerson Academy parent, aside from that of a collaborator for the betterment of a student’s education. Romantic involvement is prohibited except in the case of teachers who are also parents.”
Every inch of me was screaming at myself to crawl into a hole and stay there until this was over. I knew the rule full well. I’d cited it to Cohen before we’d taken things further than we ever should have.
Headmaster Bradford continued reading. “The consequence for breaking these rules can be as minor as probation or as severe as dismissal.” He glanced to Pam, who smiled even wider, and Ryde, then turned back to me. “The bylaws state severity of the consequence is determined by past performance assessed by—”