Aidan
The hot coffee burns my tongue. I jerk and hiss out a curse as I try to prevent the spillage from cascading onto my clothes. I can bear a burn and the pain associated; however, I can’t afford to throw out a good shirt or a decent pair of pants because of a massive coffee stain.
“I hope you don’t use that language with your students, Mr. Talbot,” a voice scolds from the door.
“Ms. Hartlett,” I remark cooly, hiding my displeasure over this parent-teacher conference under a big smile. “Please come in.”
Setting down the coffee, I turn to the woman who I now know is leading a movement against keeping the library. She sits down in the chair I set up in front of my desk.
I glance at the clock. Four o’clock. Good, she’s on time. If she’s on time, then I can leave here at a reasonable time, and then get home and play Stardew until I can collapse in bed and dream of Charlotte.
Nineteen hours until my date with Charlotte. Fuck yeah!
Steeling myself, I begin, “So, Ms. Hartlett, regarding Jackson’s per—”
“I’d like to wait for my fiancé please,” she remarks while tapping her fingers against my desk, showing off a large shiny rock on her finger. “As Jackson’s soon to be father, he should be here for this conversation.”
“Of course,” I reply with my pasted-on smile. I didn’t know she had a fiancé. It’s not on the student information form and it hasn’t come up in previous parent-teacher conversations. “How is your day?”
“Fine.” Ms. Hartlett pulls out her phone and starts tapping on it.
There goes my attempt at small talk. Part of me wants to thank her for giving me an out over the dreaded social requirements: chit chat. The other part of me sees her rude and disrespectful.
I input grades from my latest pop quiz instead. I’m about halfway through when a suited gentleman strides into the classroom, and Ms. Hartlett squeals, “Pookie!” He flashes us with a wide toothy grin and reaches a hand to me.
“Hi, I’m Stephen Gott. Apologies for my tardiness. I had important business to tend to.” He winks.
Ms. Hartlett fawns over him. “Oh, we haven’t gotten started yet.” She stands up and squeezes his arm. “This is my fiancé.” She draws out the word, fiancé. “We’re having a fall wedding. It’s going to be the event of the year.”
“Congratulations,” I mutter out. My stomach drops and my mouth feels like sandpaper. This is the guy who’s responsible for potentially shutting down our town’s library and stifling the major public cultural and educational center in town. He’s engaged to the woman leading the countermovement.
I smell a conflict of interest.
Eighteen hours and forty-seven minutes until I have my date with Charlotte.
With that pasted-on smile, I shake his hand. At least his grip is firm and steady. I’m tempted to squeeze back harder, assert dominance. Dan always told me he would do that to people who annoyed him. Ironically, he never did that to me. “I’m Aidan Talbot, you’re stepson’s English—”
“Son,” Ms. Hartlett snaps with a curled upper lip. “We don’t use terms like ‘stepson’ or ‘stepfather’. They’re demeaning and don’t describe the full extent of the County Executive’s relationship with my darling boy.”
I nod, rolling my lips together. “Thank you for the clarification. Now, I’m assuming you read my email about Jackson’s book—”
“Yes, I read that email, and I’d like to know why you’re picking on my son,” Ms. Hartlett scowls.
“He’s so smart and so talented. It’s like this entire year you’ve been finding fault in his performance, and I don’t appreciate it.
” She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear before jabbing that same finger at me.
“He’s got such a bright future, and I think you’re keeping him from fulfilling his potential. ”
My nostrils flare. Maybe I should’ve invited admin to join us.
Or at least my team leader. But no, admin is too busy, and my team leader is putting out a fire of her own.
It’s just me against one difficult parent and one influential person who could potentially make my life miserable if he doesn’t get his way.
“Ms. Hartlett, I am not picking on Jackson at all. I treat him the same as I do any other student.” I keep my voice even and cool, trying to hide the anxiety coursing through me.
“I do agree that Jackson has potential, but he’s just not following through or directing his efforts appropriately. Now, did you read my emai—”
Again, Ms. Hartlett interrupts me, and my blood boils. “I don’t need to read the email to know that it’s full of slanderous—”
“Now, now, pumpkin,” Gott quips, silencing her.
“Mr. Talbot just wants what’s best for your son.
Let us take a moment and read the email that this fine educator of young minds has produced for us.
I had the pleasure of digesting it earlier, and I believe that it is vital to our conversation that you catch up with the rest of us. ”
She crosses her arms and squirms in her seat in a move that reminds me of her little shit of a child. With a huff, she pulls out her phone and, I assume, begins to read my finely crafted email. I’m a bit disappointed that she hadn’t read it. That was some of my best work.
Gott shifts in his seat and unbuttons his unwrinkled navy suit jacket. He gazes around my classroom and the various posters. “Nice little classroom here.”
“Thank you, it is small, but it’s works,” I remark coolly, biting my tongue and trying not to blurt out, “it’s especially tight in here with thirty hormone infused teens since the county keep reducing funding for education despite increasing enrollment.
” I may have tenure, but I know that he could still make my life miserable in other ways.
“Small, but compact,” he remarks. His gaze falls on a poster of All Boys Aren’t Blue by George M.
Johnson behind me, and he studies it for a few seconds.
I grip the armrests of my chair, bracing myself for whatever insult he’s thinking about one of the most banned books being up on my wall. “You must read a lot.”
I nod, skeptical that some other insult is coming. “I do. Do you read?”
“Oh yes. I read books. Mostly thought-provoking books. I guess you could call them self-help books. Reading should be used to improve one’s life.” Gott leans back in his chair, and I note that he doesn’t ask me about my literature preferences.
Eighteen hours and forty minutes until my date with Charlotte. I can do this.
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, and adjusting my glasses, I fully put on the persona of Mr. Talbot. He stands tall and doesn’t take shit from parents. “I prefer fiction. But I’m always open to trying. Any recommendations?”
He lifts one shoulder. “Uh, I just read something about habits, but I didn’t get past the first chapter.
I just don’t have much time to read.” He rolls his hand.
“With running a county, and I’ve been so busy planning and renovating my office.
” He winks at me. “There’s so much important work keeping the county running for the people. ”
Ah, a self-help fan who doesn’t actually read.
“Really?”
Gott grins and continues without any encouragement from me.
“The whole thing needs to be gutted. The carpets have asbestos. The walls are filled with mold. I’m trying to get the place condemned.
” He nudges his fiancée. “My pumpkin here has worked in construction, Her insight on design is so enlightening. She’s been so helpful in telling me what we should do.
” Ms. Hartlett smiles but does not look up from the phone.
He shifts forward in the chair. “I’ve got an amazing contractor lined up who’s going to make it all so incredibly beautiful. Pumpkin here recommended him.”
“Very nice,” I say, trying to hide the slight waver in my voice. “Pardon me, I just have to check something. I’ll just be a second.”
To: hello@
From: atalbot@
Subject: SG is here
He’s engaged to BH. What did the county offices look like when you visited SG? Were they moldy?
Ms. Hartlett slams the phone on the table, breaking my concentration and making me wonder how she did that without breaking her screen. She lets out a huff and crosses her arms. “I still don’t understand why we’re here.” It must kick up some sort of dust, which tickles my nose.
“Excuse me,” I manage to get out before I sneeze.
“Gott bless you.”
My jaw drops. “What did you just say?”
“I blessed you.” He peers at me. “It’s a normal thing to do when someone sneezes.”
“You said, ‘Gott bless you.’ As in, you used your own name to bless me.” I adjust my glasses and look him up and down. “People usually invoke some sort of god or just say ‘bless you’. I don’t go around saying, ‘Talbot bless you’.”
Gott flashes one of those fake megawatt smiles. “I didn’t say my own name. You must have misheard me.”
Great, he’s gaslighting me.
Sighing, I make a mental note to tell Charlotte about it later.
“Moving on. We’re here today because Jackson copied passages directly from a Wikipedia article for his book review.
This is plagiarism and against school policy.
” I pull out a paper with the policy memo stated clearly and read it aloud.
She points a finger at me. “You have no proof!”
I pick up said plagiarized paper and point to a passage. “This passage is on the Wikipedia page for Turtles All the Way Down.” I observe her stony demeanor.
Ms. Hartlett raises an eyebrow. “Ok, so he added in his work to the page after he did this paper.”
My mouth drops open. Keep it together Aidan, you don’t look good in orange and Charlotte wouldn’t date you if you punched this insufferable woman in the face.
Or maybe she would. Sighing, I reply, “The page was last edited in November. This book review was assigned two weeks ago. He did not read the book, and he turned in incomplete work, in addition to the plagiarism.”
She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. Jackson doesn’t need to read books to become successful in life.” Her face softens into a smile. “He’s going to take over my brother’s business and work with him. He needs to know practical things, like math and building things.”
I clench my jaw and lower one of my hands under the desk, pulling my fingers into a fist.
Eighteen hours and thirty-seven minutes until my date with Charlotte.
Gott pats her knee. “Now, now, my pet. Mr. Talbot is only doing his job and he’s doing a fine job of it.”
Shit, is this guy going to defend me?
He continues, “Now, I think there is a miscommunication here, which I think can be solved very easily.” He flashes yet another megawatt smile that sends my heart racing with mistrust. “Jackson simply used an outside source to complete his work. Is there anything wrong with that?”
My jaw drops again. I hate this guy. “Citing sources is completely fine, even directly quoting passage to back up an argument. Students were encouraged to do so, however, there is a specific format he needed to follow. Copying and pasting without that is plagiarism.” I take a breath.
Damnit, I need my team lead here. “This is a violation of the school’s plagiarism policy.
He got a zero on this paper and, at this point based on his performance, I am worried about his ability to handle eleventh grade.
I’ve made the recommendation for summer school to make up for the gap.
The hope is, he can catch up and not repeat tenth grade. ”
Thank God, I’m not teaching summer school this year.
If all goes well, I’ll be spending the entire summer with Charlotte surrounded by books, drinking coffee and tea.
Ms. Hartlett’s eyes grow wide. She slams her fist against the desk, rattling my pencil holder. “What? No! You can’t do that to him. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s working this summer!”
I grasp the pencil holder to keep it from falling over and grit my teeth.
Gott reaches out to hold her hand, caressing the knuckles.
“My darling pumpkin, I’m sure there’s a simple solution, and I’m sure we can workshop something so that Jackson still can spread his wings and soar.
” He mimics a flying motion with his hand and looks at me.
“Perhaps our boy can resubmit the paper.” His tone is more tell than ask.
Eighteen hours and thirty-six minutes until my date with Charlotte.
I wish I could blink and be sitting in Triple C with her right now.
Swallowing the bile in my throat and my pride, I reply in a stiff voice, “I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do.
From all the class time he’s missed, to the lack of work on assignments, he’s not going to catch up.
He needs extra instruction. I mentioned this in our last meeting.
” I glance at the calendar. “Two months ago?”
Gott frowns and rises from his seat, buttoning his suit jacket. “Now, now, pumpkin, I’m sure we can have a nice conversation with the principal and solve this. Come, I’m sure he’s still here.”
“Good luck with that,” I mutter under my breath and purposefully fail to mention that the principal is on leave today.
Ms. Hartlett crinkles her nose and jerks her hand away to cross her arms. She stares down her nose at me and says, “I’m sure that will be more productive than this.
” She rises from her seat and rolls her eyes.
“Let’s go, pookie.” Without another word, she storms out of my classroom, Gott following along.
“Thanks for coming in,” I halfheartedly call after them. Chucking off my glasses, I rub my face with my hands and let out a groan.
My laptop dings, and I find an email.
To: atalbot@
From: hello@
Subject: RE: SG is here
The offices were really nice. Definitely not moldy or gross.
FYI, super excited for our date tomorrow. BTW, you know it is a date, right? I realize I totally forgot to mention it, and I hope I didn’t mislead you under false pretense.
Eighteen hours and thirty-five minutes until my date with Charlotte. Fuck yeah!