The Monarch Room

by Danielle James

  Since I only needed one credit, I got to leave after lunch. It was the best part of my day. My father was still at work and I would have the house to myself. I stepped out of Aspen Grove and let the sun warm my face.

  While I waited for my car to arrive, I spotted a flash of white in the parking lot. Then he materialized. Mr. Clermont. He was at his car, staring down at his phone. His brows crashed together and his expression harsh.

  I burned to know what gave him that expression. What painted his features so dark? I wet my lips with my tongue and shielded my eyes from the sun to get a better look at him. My heart pounded in my chest the longer I stared.

  I let out a gasp when my car pulled up to the curb. The black Escalade blocked Mr. Clermont from view. I wanted to keep staring at him though. His teacher guard was down and he looked like a normal man. A troubled man.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Okolo,” Duke greeted me as he opened the back door.

  “Hi,” I muttered, lugging my blue book bag in the truck beside me. As we pulled off, I stared at my art teacher through deep tinted windows. He shoved his phone in his pocket and took long strides back toward the school. We pulled out of the parking lot and I fought the urge to turn and look at his strong back.

  I exhaled, put my earbuds in, and cranked up Biggie.

  **

  Once I was home, I called my mother and smiled when I heard her soft voice. “How was your first day, Zuri?”

  “Frustrating,” I pouted. Visions of Mr. Clermont’s brown skin and dimples assaulted me until I snapped my eyes shut and fell backward on my bed.

  “Why don’t we meet for ice cream?”

  “Mom, come to the house. Father isn’t here.”

  “No, Zuri. He doesn’t want me in his house. He has cameras.”

  “I’ll cut them off.” I sat up and snatched the hair tie from my dark curls, letting them fall down my back.

  “Let’s not make any trouble. I’ll treat you to ice cream for your first day of school.” It was our tradition and it had been since kindergarten. I got ice cream on my first day of school. The little girl inside of me needed that ice cream date.

  “Okay. Let’s meet at The Spoon.” I shed my uniform as I finalized the ice cream date details with my mother. I opted for a pair of distressed jeans and a floral tank top.

  The silver BMW in the garage was a sweet sixteen gift from my father but I knew my mother was really the one behind it. I was allowed to drive it around town but not back and forth to school. I didn’t even bother asking why but I knew it was because my father wanted to keep appearances. No daughter of his would be seen driving herself to and from school.

  I slid inside and Get Money started playing immediately. It was like my car knew me. I let out a happy sigh and headed to meet my mother.

  The Spoon was an overpriced Baskin Robbins but it was our spot. I got summer peach and my mother got chocolate. It matched her flawless skin. “You only have one class this year, right, Zuri?” She sat across from me with sparkling mocha eyes.

  “Yup. One class and one teacher.” I rolled my eyes and she frowned.

  “I take it this teacher isn’t your favorite?”

  “No. He’s so…pretentious. He acts like he’s better than everyone and that it’s his way or the highway. It’s annoying already and I’ve only been in his classroom one time.” I neglected to tell her about the missed assignment. She would have urged me to talk to my father. I wasn’t ready to do that yet.

  “It’s the first day. You’ll get over it or get used to it. This is your last class in high school. Push through it.” She made it sound so easy. If only she knew how I felt sitting in the same room with Clermont.

  There was no way to express how he tied my tongue and snatched the breath right from me or how my thighs trembled if he got too close. I couldn’t share that kind of shit with my mother. She would probably punish me until I graduated college.

  “I’ll try.” My voice was monotone as I let the cold ice cream melt on my tongue. I needed something to cool me down because every thought about Roman Clermont made me smolder either with anger or lust. The dichotomy was startling.

  “How’s Krissy?” My mother asked.

  “She’s still Krissy,” I laughed a little. “She only has three credits to finish the year.” I sat with my mom for a couple of hours and a couple more bowls of ice cream because they never really count when you’re with your mommy.

  I hated leaving her.

  I wanted to follow her back to her apartment in the city but I knew my father would flip his lid if I did. I didn’t fight the tears welling in my eyes as I pulled away from The Spoon. I let them flow. I didn’t want to hear Biggie right then.

  I needed to hear Whitney Houston.

  Those were my two moods: Biggie or Whitney.

  Like I said, I was meant to be a 90’s kid. It’s where my heart was.

  **

  In my room, I finally made myself read that stupid fucking syllabus and when I got to the last page, my palms turned sweaty.

  This page is your first assignment. If you are in agreement with the syllabus, please sign your name on the line and return only this page to my desk at the end of class.

  What. The. Fuck.

  **

  Roman

  Matt and I sat at a bar after work because we both agreed that the first day of school warranted a stiff drink. “Those kids are the most entitled bunch of brats I’ve ever had the chance to teach,” Matt grumbled after he pounded a glass of bourbon. I glanced at the bartender with long brown hair and copper eyes for a few seconds before turning to my new friend.

  “My first class wasn’t that bad but the rest of them were pains in the ass.”

  “Every class I had sat there and stared at me like I was speaking French when I asked them to do work. You can tell they’ve been vacationing all summer and their brains are fried.”

  “Exactly,” I scoffed. “If I didn’t need the damn money, I’d go to public school. It comes with its own set of issues but the kids and the parents there are real.” I lifted my gaze to a football game on the TV and sighed. “Before school started, I had a parent all but tell me flat out that he expected his daughter to pass my class without a problem because he was giving a sizable donation to the art department.”

  Matt looked at me with frustrated green eyes. “How are we supposed to teach if they expect us to pass students based on donations? I didn’t start teaching to take bribes and pass kids.” I felt every word he said and I started questioning my choice to work at Aspen Grove.

  I needed the money though. Lawyers weren’t cheap and I refused to go back to my parents asking for help. I had the degrees and I was going to use them. That’s what they were for, to help me make money. God knows I spent enough money getting them. They might as well do their job.

  Matt and I sat at the bar griping for another hour before we both headed home. We had to get ready to face work again in the morning and I was going to start my first project with my homeroom class. I needed rest.

  **

  I was listening to Who Shot Ya? and loading the video I wanted to play for class when I smelled something sweet that made my stomach rumble. I suddenly remembered I hadn’t eaten. I wanted to eat whatever that smell was though.

  I turned around and locked eyes with Zuri Okolo. I shut my eyes for a moment. Why the fuck did she smell like that? It disrupted my train of thought. “Miss Okolo, why are you here so early?” I asked, clenching my jaw.

  “The assignment. Why didn’t you tell me all I had to do was sign the back of the syllabus?” She was snappy but her tone was still even. She reminded me of Daria from MTV but without the glasses.

  “Because it’s not my job to keep track of what you pay attention to. Do you think when you’re filling out forms in the real world someone is going to constantly run behind you telling you that you didn’t do it right?”

  “Most people would, yes,” she deadpanned. “You know why? Because most people want their
forms filled out correctly. You were being an asshole.”

  “Miss Okolo, one more word from you and I’ll write you a warning. I’m not your friend. I’m your teacher. You don’t get to tell me I’m being an asshole because of an oversight on your part.” She rolled her eyes and it made every muscle in my body tighten. Someone needed to show her how to behave.

  “Well, here. I signed it. Can I have my grade, please?” She tried her best to sound sweet but she still sounded annoyed. I let my gaze fall to the signed sheet of paper then I chuckled.

  “I’ll take the signature, Miss Okolo but your grade is marked as zero for the assignment. It was due yesterday and if you read the rest of the papers I gave you then you would know I don’t do late assignments without a note from your parent stating why you were unable to do the assignment in a timely manner. Even with the note, I still take off forty percent unless you were ill.” Her brown eyes widened then narrowed as she leaned forward. Vanilla and brown sugar surrounded her.

  “That’s not fair. You know that’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair. You want this last credit? Work for it.” I turned the music back on and noted the way her lips moved along to the words like she knew them by heart. Words moved her. They seemed to thaw her icy exterior.

  She shook the fog of the music from her head and glared at me again. “How am I supposed to reconcile a zero?”

  “Extra credit,” I sighed. “Do I have to point everything out to you, Miss Okolo?”

  “No, but you’re a teacher. Helping students is what you do.”

  I stood to my feet and loomed over her petite frame. She was like a blade of grass in the shadow of an oak. “I don’t need my job description from you. I’m here to help. Not coddle.”

  “I didn’t ask to be coddled. Can you at least tell me when I’ll have the chance to earn extra credit?” I felt a charge from our back and forth and I wanted it to stop. It seemed that every word I spoke to this girl, she spit it back at me with defiance.

  “Maybe,” I sniffed. “Have a seat. Class is about to start.” She spun around and walked to her seat. My eyes disobeyed me to trace her tight dips and arches and the way she moved in that uniform.

  I used to think it was a hideous uniform until I saw her in it. The yellow and burgundy against her cocoa skin were sinful.

  Fuck.

  Cut it out, Roman. She’s your student .

  She was also used to getting her way whenever daddy waved his magic wand. I could tell. She wasn’t getting her way in my classroom. I didn’t care if she got it in every other space of her life, she wouldn’t get it in the Monarch Room.

  Students filed in and I cut off my music. I had to find something else to focus on besides Miss Okolo. “Good morning class. I hope you’re ready to work today. We’re going to start on our first project of the year.” I couldn’t tell whether the chatter was excitement or dread. I didn’t care. I hit play on the video and began explaining what they were watching.

  “These are clips of movement. I told you yesterday, we’re not focusing on still life for one second in this class. I want to focus on motion.” The clips showed a dandelion blowing in the wind, willow trees during a storm, and fish swimming through water. “Life moves forward and you have to capture it. Your first project is going to be to sketch something showing movement. When I look at your work I want to be able to feel the movement.”

  I gave them pointers for the rest of the class on how to make a flat drawing come to life and move. While I talked, they practiced. Every student except for Miss Okolo.

  She had a pencil in her hand and she was doodling, but she wasn’t trying. She was bullshitting. I stood behind her until my presence made her turn around. Clearly, I unnerved her.

  “Were you listening to any of the tips I gave during class?” I asked her, my arms folded across my chest. Every time I tried to focus, her mink eyes grabbed me and I couldn’t. They made things fuzzy for me.

  “Obviously. I didn’t have anything else to listen to.”

  “Well, then you’re horrible at following directions.” I moved on to the next student and the next after that until the class was nearly over.

  “Monarchs, can I have your attention? I’m offering the first opportunity for extra credit.”

  “Already?” Brittany Sawyer perked up a bit and leaned forward. I could already tell she was going to be my overachiever.

  “Yes, Miss Sawyer, already. You don’t need it now but I can almost guarantee you’ll need it later on in the year. You might as well grab it while you can. Two weeks from now, there will be an art exhibit at eight o’clock in the evening at the Meadowbrook Center downtown.

  If you show up and create a piece of art from something that inspired you from the exhibit, you will get extra credit. Some of you need it already.” I made sure to look at Miss Okolo and I didn’t miss her glare.

  I handed out permission slips to everyone and they muttered as they looked over them. “We don’t have to come though, right?” Another student asked, holding the permission slip between his fingers. He was the entitled slacker asshole.

  Most of them were though. He was just more open about it.

  “No, it’s not mandatory. It would be helpful though.”

  He chuckled as he tucked the paper away in his binder then gave me thumbs up. I knew none of them would show their faces at that exhibit but they needed to.

  Once the bell rang, everyone left their drawings on my desk and Miss Okolo was the last one to drop hers on the pile. I looked at the sketch of a fish allegedly swimming through water and frowned.

  “Miss Okolo, you above all students in this classroom need to be present for the exhibit.”

  “Are you saying my work is subpar? This is literally the first assignment.”

  “This is the second assignment. You got a zero on the first one. Need I remind you?”

  “No. You don’t. What’s wrong with my fish?” She picked up the paper as students from second period came in.

  “It’s not moving. It’s dead in the water. You get a D.” I flipped the paper over and marked a bold letter on the back in red ink.” Her eyes were wild with anger.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” She exploded.

  “Hallway. Now ,” I growled. We marched out of the classroom, leaving behind whispering students. “Have you lost your mind, little girl? I’m your teacher, you don’t speak to teachers that way.”

  “You’re an asshole.” I couldn’t help lingering on her neck and how dainty it was. How my entire hand could probably fit around it. My fingers could crush her windpipe and silence all that fucking talking back. It was making me crazy.

  She was my student.

  Still …

  I couldn’t deny the heat passing between us if my life depended on it. I noted the way her pulse jumped frantically beneath her smooth ebony skin. It made me feel like a vampire.

  “You‘ve earned yourself a seat in detention. I hope you’re happy. You get to explain to your father why you’re not being chauffeured home today.”

  “Detention?” She drew her head back like it was the pinnacle of offense. Her eyes blazed with fire and I dared her little smart ass to do or say anything else because I’d make it a week of detention on the fucking spot.

  Her pouty lips trembled and tears sprang to her eyes. She knew she’d lost the battle. “Oh, have you never gotten detention before, princess?” I mused. “No time like the present. I expect to see you in my class after school.”

  “Don’t call me princess.” She clenched her teeth, on the brink of snapping. “I don’t even have a full day of school,” she stammered. Her voice was thick with emotion.

  “You do today. Have a seat in my room,” I gestured to the Monarch Room and she stormed through the doors. I headed to Principal Palmer’s office and walked in after a few knocks.

  “Mr. Clermont, what’s the problem?” He took one look at my face and his lips fell into a frown.

  “Zuri Okolo has detention tod
ay and I’m aware she has a half-day schedule. Would it be possible to have her act as a student aide until school lets out and detention can begin?” He blinked in disbelief a few times and stood.

  “Zuri Okolo? Dr. Okolo’s daughter? What the hell happened, Clermont?”

  “She’s disrespectful. I won’t have it in my class and I don’t care who her father is.”

  “I—I don’t know about this. Are you sure you can’t let her go with a warning?”

  “I’m positive.”

  After a few minutes of back and forth, Palmer conceded. I stared at him with stern; unmoving eyes and he shrank under my gaze.

  “I’m going back to class now,” I told him. I was tired of being expected to bend for those rich motherfuckers. That little girl was disrespectful. It didn’t matter how beautiful she was or how badly I wanted to take her out before I realized she was a student.

  The fact remained: she was a student. A seventeen-year-old student. A student that looked like fire incarnate in that goddamn uniform. I tore my eyes from her standing in the corner of my room and cleared my throat as I spoke to my second period.

  **

  During the day I made Zuri run errands and sort through papers hoping she would see where everyone else got it right and she got it wrong with the motion sketches. When the day was over and the students disappeared from my class, I felt the space shrink.

  I was alone with her. I looked down at my desk and tried to make sense of the papers in piles but all I saw from my peripheral vision were smooth chocolate thighs like silk. My spine became stiff along with all my movements.

  “Miss Okolo, have a seat,” I said. Honestly, I hoped that if she were seated, I wouldn’t have to stare at her legs in that skirt.

  “Yo, Rome, we hitting the bar again tonight? I have some papers to grade but then it’s time to get fucked up.” Matt clapped his hands from the door and I shook my head at his timing.

  “Wilmore, I have a student here for detention,” I pointed out. Zuri huffed in her seat and folded her arms.

  “Oh, excuse me. Ignore everything I said. Teachers never drink liquor or curse. We only drink in good grades and the desire to educate our students.” I let a laugh slip and walked him out to the hallway.