Page 42 of For Your Own Good

“Not exactly.”

Zach stares at her, his face so open and trusting. “What’s up?”

She motions for him to follow, leading him around the corner, where the hallway isn’t as busy. It’s morning break, which lasts exactly sixteen minutes.

“It’s about the editor position.”

“Oh,” he says. His eyes widen even further as he gets it. “Oh.”

“Yes,” she says, with the appropriate amount of seriousness. “We don’t have an editor at the moment.”

“But Courtney’s coming back,” Zach says.

“Of course, of course. It’s just for right now, while she’s out. I’m sure she needs time with her family.”

Zach nods and keeps nodding. Sonia can almost see him weighing his options.

“Why don’t you think about it overnight?” she says. “Obviously, it’s a big decision.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll think about it.”

“Whatever you decide is fine. Either way, your participation at theBuglewill look good on your college applications,” she says. “Even as just a reporter.”

He continues nodding as she walks away, leaving him to think about that.

THE STUDENTS ARElooking at Frank, but he doesn’t really see them. They’re just a blur of sleepy eyes, chins propped up by hands, and lots of blank stares. For him, seeing them like that is unusual. Most of the time, he watches them with care, waiting for one of them to act up. To do something wrong.

The devil and his minions can be anywhere anytime. Always trying to lure these kids to the dark side. Frank is usually on guard for that, trying to help them resist the urge.

Today, not so much.

It’s fourth-period calculus, and no one wants to be here. Not the students and not Frank. If he had his way, he’d be at the gym. Working out all his nervousness, which is a constant state at this point.

Or at church, praying out all his guilt. He was there last night, and the night before, and it hasn’t worked yet. He hasn’t heard a peep from anyone—not the police, not Ingrid’s husband—and it’s driving him insane.

A hand shoots up in the middle of the class.

“Yes, Stella?”

“Ifaplusbis the inverse function off, then wouldn’t the intersection point beaequals 1 overaplusbminus 1?”

Frank looks at the problem, working through what she’d said. It takes him longer than it should. “Yes,” he finally says. “Yes, you’re right.” He swipes the smartboard and makes the whole problem disappear. How easy math can be.

Another problem appears on the board, and he asks the class to solve it. He uses the time to open his desk drawer and check his phone.

One text from his wife, telling him to get the oil changed in his car.

Relief, at first, but the angst comes back quickly. Two words express how he’s feeling:If only.

If only he hadn’t met up with Ingrid at that fundraiser.

If only Missy had come with him instead of staying at home with Frankie.

If only he hadn’t had so much to drink. It always gets him in trouble.

If only he hadn’t left with Ingrid instead of going home alone.

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