Read The Final Lesson Plan Online

Authors: Deena Bright

Tags: #Contemporary

The Final Lesson Plan (23 page)

"Actually, Tim, Gavin, I'm okay with it. I trust him. He hired me...and I trust that you'll both be outside waiting for me if I need anything," I said, nodding toward the door. "Jasper." I didn't need to say more than that. Jasper hated unions, hated the whole idea of them. He stood up immediately, and led Tim and Gavin to the door after they each shook hands with my superintendent.

"We're right outside, Nelle, if you need us. Mr. Baker, nice to see you again. Thank you," Jasper shook his hand and left.

Once they left, I said, "Mr. Baker—"

He cut me off immediately, "Janelle, I'm sorry you had to go through all of this. Public scrutiny can be brutal. Downright vicious at times," he said, taking off his glasses, and cleaning the lenses. "But, I do want to say that I'm pretty disappointed in you." Holy shit. I was going to get a lecture, a lecture from a man I respected and spent much of my career trying to impress. "You're an incredible teacher, one of our district's finest."

"Thank you sir…I'm…I'm so sorry."

"Marriage is hard. I get that. I know your husband…ex-husband…was a creep and made some rather horrendous choices," he said, shaking his head. "I suppose that I just thought you'd make better decisions."

"Mr. Baker—" he raised his hand, cutting me off.

"Briggs Alexander and Leo Cling are fine gentlemen. Probably the best this district's ever turned out…next to your brother, of course," he stated. I smiled. Of course. Leave it to Jasper to get accolades at a meeting about me. Living in an older sibling's shadow was awful, especially if you knew that the light kept getting brighter for him and darker for you.

"But…Janelle…they were your students. They should've been off limits, people you'd never consider..." He didn't finish the statement, handing me a tissue as he recognized the tears streaming down my face. "I'm just disappointed. I thought better of you."

He walked around the desk and grabbed two files off his desk, sitting in the chair next to me, and said, "But like I said, you're in the clear. I'd hate to lose such a valuable teacher." He handed me the first file and said, "Look at this." I took the file and began leafing through it. "Those are the letters from angry parents in the district, who want to see you gone…hanged in a public venue."

I looked at the letters; there were 15 of them total. Mr. Baker or his secretary blackened all the names within each letter. I couldn't see who'd written what. I didn't know who hated me, who wanted me gone. The letters were vicious and defeating. My reputation was ruined, and for what? What did I really gain from this past month? More heartache and pain, that's what.

"Now look at these," he said handing me the second file. I started thumbing through the documents inside. There were over 50 of them. "These are the letters that I received in your favor, supporting you." The names were there, in black and white. Parents had written to him singing my praises. I couldn't believe it. I'd made connections with some students and their parents; those particular letters weren't surprising. However, some parents I'd never spoken to, never actually bonded with, but had their child in class; they'd written letters, supporting me. I'd made a positive impression on my students and their parents and had never even known.

"You're an incredible teacher. One who makes an impact; one we cannot afford to lose. You need to decide if the picture you're currently painting of yourself is how you want to be seen, publicly displayed," he said, standing up, indicating that we were done.

As I was walking to the door, he added, "And Janelle…two more things." I waited, afraid of what was coming. "All those names that were crossed out. You've only had three of their kids in your class; the rest never knew you." I smiled, knowing that I shouldn't be too proud or happy, but feeling much better. "And that ex of yours, I never liked him. You could do a lot better."

"Thank you, Mr. Baker. Again, I'm so sorry," I said, opening the door.

"I know. I'm sorry too. Enjoy the rest of your summer," he said, sitting back down as his desk, focusing on his computer screen.

 

 

Shocked, I pulled into the driveway, not believing my eyes. Briggs and Leo were tossing a football back and forth to each other. Leo looked extremely out of place, playing catch in the yard in a suit and tie. Glancing at my watch, I wondered why Leo wasn't at work. Maybe he didn't really have a job. Maybe he was an undercover spy, trying to find terrorists in the country. Maybe he thought Briggs was, or had reason to believe that Jasper was a spy on a secret mission to overthrow the country. That was why he was hanging around all the time. Okay, so most likely Leo Cling was not a spy, but he wasn't at work. That was fishy and suspicious in itself. Maybe, I should quit my job and become a spy. I'm leery of people and their motives. When people become spies, then to whom do they send their resumes? What would be the objection: To use my secret spy decoder ring in real life situations to pursue and capture villains, who threaten the well-being and happiness of our good nation? I'll Google it later, for sure.

Focus Janelle! Christ. Pull yourself together, you nut job. Realizing that they were at my house waiting for me to get home from my meeting, I heard Mr. Baker's words again: "You need to decide if the picture you're currently painting of yourself is how you want to be seen, publicly displayed." Looking at both of them, in all their glory, I thought "fuck the Hell yeah."

I mean, who wouldn't want to be paraded around town on the arm of one of them? Who wouldn't want to be publicly seen with Briggs Alexander, displayed openly with Leo Cling? Ummm, the answer was nobody. Everyone would die to be in my shoes. Well, not at that time, the shoes I had on were Jocelyn's old black pumps. Char had my good pair, and I couldn't get ahold of her last night to get them back. She was the worst "borrower." I mean, do you have any idea how many times she's borrowed my clothes, shoes, purses, whatever, and not given them back? Countless. I tell you; it's frustrating. People who borrow stuff should always—

Focus Janelle. Bring it back. Anyway, so, fuck yeah; this was definitely the picture I wanted to be painting. Screw the rest of the people who couldn't even get themselves a paintbrush to create such a masterpiece. I was working with acrylics and pastels, while all those naysaying assholes were dabbling in finger paint. Screw you jealous bitches. I had my job. I was in the clear, and now I had two gorgeous guys to help cure my woes. Booyah!

As I got out of the car, both of them walked over to me, looking impatiently at me for answers. "Leo," I asked, "Why aren't you at work?"

"I am. Sort of. I need to pick up a client at the airport. I have a few hours to kill before his flight gets in," he said before walking closer to me and kissing me on the cheek. "I have to take him to dinner tonight, so I get a few hours off this afternoon. So tell us, what happened."

After relaying the story to them, I felt better. Sometimes just hearing the story, even when you're the one telling it, puts things in a better perspective. Talking, the cure all. Couldn't get enough of it.

"I can't believe he said that shit about painting yourself. What a douche! I bet he wouldn't want the world to know what he does behind closed doors either," Briggs said.

Briggs continued, while Leo stood patiently listening to his tirade. "Don't you worry about what you look like to those judgmental assholes. You shouldn't give a flying fuck what those people think," he said, hugging me quickly. "I'm glad that they're not going to publicly crucify you. I'm getting pretty used to you being around, Babe." Then, before he let me go, he turned to Leo and said, "The letters worked. Nice job, Cling."

Leo shook his head slightly and looked away. "What does that mean?" I asked. "Why 'Nice job, Cling?' Why would you say that?"

"He's been sending messages to people, calling people, and stuff like that about how they should write to Baker, telling him that you're a good teacher, good role model, all that shit," Briggs admitted. "And totally true shit…Hell, my dad even wrote one for you."

"It's no big deal…really…I just told a few people that it would probably help," Leo confessed, looking away.

"And they told people, and they told people," Briggs said, rubbing my back.

"You did that for me?" I asked, walking toward him, needing to see his eyes. I was torn. I'll admit; I kind of liked when I believed that the community had stepped up to the plate to back me all at their own fruition. I liked that the parents of my district chose to fight for me. It was flattering, ego-boosting, and validating. However, just knowing that Leo would go to so much trouble to help me was incredibly heartwarming and let's be honest, panty-wetting. I mean let's face it. People don't usually go out of their way to help others; it was wonderful. And, it was still flattering that they actually did it—even though they didn't think of it on their own. Leo was like a knight in shining armor, always coming to my rescue.

"Of course, I'd do that for you; I'd do anything for you," he said, tossing the football up and catching it. Staring at him, he amazed me in so many ways. Leo was so smart, so sensitive, and so selfless. Plus, I couldn't believe that he could pass and catch a football. I wasn't sure why I was so shocked that he could actually catch a ball. He wasn't some uncoordinated loser, but I was shocked all the same.

"Babe, I'm gonna get going...It's not my day," Briggs said, as he grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll see you Wednesday though."

Briggs was being so respectful and reserved. I loved it, but part of me missed the barbaric fighting between the two of them. It made everything so animalistic and downright sexy. Truthfully, it was nice to feel wanted, really wanted. Leo and Briggs certainly made me feel desired and sexy, feelings I'd been denied for a long time. I wasn't sure how all of this was going to pan out, what the end result would be. But I did know one thing: I would never settle again for being someone's second choice. Hell, I was Marcus' fifth choice if we're really counting. It was so refreshing being someone's priority, someone's round one first draft pick.

"Okay, I'll see you Wednesday. What time?"

"I'll pick you up around 3:00. Sound good?" he asked.

"Per-fucked," I said. They both shook their heads at me. It was going to catch on. I just knew it.

"If I don't see you, Happy Birthday Alexander," Leo said, thumping him on the back.

"Birthday? When?" I asked. And Leo knew about it, and I didn't? Briggs just nodded and shrugged. "I cannot believe you didn't tell me it was your birthday!" I whined.

"No big deal. I'm just glad to get to spend my birthday with you," he said. "It makes me so much luckier."

"Yeah, he fought like Hell to have you on his birthday," Leo admitted. "Kept saying 'Dude, 7/11, lucky 7/11.' Man, I'm not gonna lie; I kinda wanted to punch him."

"Good thing you didn't; I'd have flattened you, Cling," Briggs said.

"Only on your birthday, Bro," Leo said, laughing.

"Whatever. See you guys. Have fun," he said, walking to his car.

Did he just say, "have fun?" What was going on? They'd never gotten along that well. What in the world was that all about? Granted, it was nice that they weren't at each other's throats, but it seemed like I was witnessing a budding new bromance. Maybe, my ultimate fantasy could come true. We could all live together, nakedly, on a deserted island, catering to each other's every whim and wish. We'd spend the days frolicking in the waves, lying in the sand, and eating fresh fish and berries from the island. The nights, we'd spend in each other's arms, enjoying our inherent sexuality, not worrying about judgmental people or feelings of jealousy. We'd be happy—all of us—together. That would be the ultimate utopia. That, and if we were spies, too. Now, it was the per-fucked fantasy.

"Wanna go in?" Leo asked, tugging on my arm, eyeing me playfully.

"More than you can even begin to imagine," I replied.

"Oh, I can imagine. I can certainly imagine," Leo said, as he picked me up, cradling me back to the pool house.

Leo didn't put me down when we entered the pool house. He carried me straight back to my bedroom, laying me back on the bed. Kissing me, he said, "Wait here," and walked back and closed the door to the pool house and then to my bedroom. When he got into my bedroom, he took off his suit, slowly and sexily, leaving only his boxer briefs on.

"Leo honey, what's your rush?" I asked.

"I've got to pick up a client and take him to dinner," he complained. "I really don't have a lot of time. It's actually not my day either. Today and tomorrow are your scheduled 'days off.' I'm surprised Briggs didn't fight me on staying," he stated. Leo was right. I wasn't technically supposed to see him until Thursday. Briggs wasn't fazed at all by Leo staying. What in God's name was that all about?

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